About the abyss: escaping by sea

4000 meters of ocean below, it hosts us, holds us above it’s deep indigo mystery. It is majestic, omnipotent.

4000 meters of deadly abyss, it would swallow us, carry us lifeless to it’s depths without a boat, without this floating mass of fiberglass and wood and metal we call home.

These are the random thoughts that capture my mind and soul as we are pulled along by rumbling motors and the breath of wind in our sails. It will take approximately 14 hours, out here in these deep ocean waters, to cover the 80 miles between Nassau and the Abacos islands.

It’s always a humbling experience, which is why whenever we arrive at a new destination after a day long sail, we sit quietly, usually with a whisky in the sunset, marveling, celebrating, appreciating our successful passage. 

It is literally a freedom one cannot feel on a day to day basis when we are surrounded by land and it’s inherent anchors – trees and buildings and people and society. It is none of those things. It has only sky above and ocean below. Seems a simple obvious, but on a day at sea it is profound.

If you choose, then there is music as well. And it is one of societies’ offerings that is at home on the sea. Music can put you at one with the universe. It can help you transcend the fiberglass vessel and all the things that could go wrong, and just how vulnerable you are. It carries you right out there into the freedom that is travelling by sea. 

So here I am, the sea surface is as calm as glass, while the sky wakes up for the day in the most magnificent way. Black gives way to muted purples, that give way to candy pinks and citrus orange as the sun peeks up into view. I am dancing like no one is watching – which thankfully no one is! I’m out in the cockpit at sunrise, with my music, my freedom, my bliss. 

A day ago, we awoke anchored in the middle of it all - Atlantis to one side, city bridges crawling with cars and massive tanker ships lined up on the other. 

Hemmed in to the west by the rotating monstrosities called cruise liners. 

We left our rocking boat, pushed around by all the boat wakes and headed to shore. We trudged through the sweltering wind-less, sidewalk-free perilous streets of Nassau, in search of groceries. Dust swirled and clung to our sweat as cars flew past. We held our breath in the litter covered few inches of grassy gutter that kept us from becoming casualties of fuel and metal.

We made our way through the artificially bright aisles of the big store, choosing overpriced produce and tempting ourselves with American offerings. All the while anticipating the hot, fast cab ride back to the jetty, followed by the transferring of bags into the dinghy, zipping across the wild Nassau Harbour, criss crossed by hundreds of tour boats, fishing boats, tankers etc., up into the boat, and ultimately the quest to find enough space to stuff it all. Sweat and dirt featured high yesterday. Car horns, sirens, industrial cranes, litter… all of that surrounded us. Held us in the fist of society.

Today we escaped. Snuck out before dawn, watched the decadent lights of Atlantis shrink into the distance as freedom took over and the day unfolded like a new life.  

Funny how I discovered that having no ground at all in sight, makes me feel more grounded than ever before.

 But today is another day. Another side of cruising life. We've met up with three other boats we last saw in Georgetown. Reunions. Adventures. We've arrived in the Abacos at Regatta time, so the parties begin...