I discovered at the end of last weekend that I get landsick. That’s correct: landsick. Jay, on the other hand gets seasick. So far, he’s done fine, but I feel absolutely nauseous. It’s at its worst on Sunday nights when we get back from the boat, and doing the dishes exacerbates my condition. Normally, when I do dishes, I look out at the water and sky and sometimes see small people bouncing around on the foredeck or fishing, periodically peeping in at me. The horizon stays still, but everything else is moving. When I get home, I just can’t get my bearings. I plunge my hands into the water, look out of the window at our back yard and nothing will stop moving, including the horizon. I actually had to go lie down last Sunday afternoon. Jay and I had a good laugh about it.
I guess I’m landsick in other ways too. As much as I appreciate my warm, high-pressure shower (now more than ever), and having space to move and breathe and spread out, I would rather be sailing. I am never more at ease than when the sail goes up, or we drop the hook to spend the night somewhere, or wake up in the middle of the night and see the stars overhead through an open hatch and feel the boat rocking me back to sleep. Last December, when we went to look at Take Two, I got a few minutes kid-free to go peeking into nooks and crannies by myself. I was the only one of our search party to actually lie in one of the bunks. After about five minutes of lying there considering the future possibilities, I said to myself, “A person could get tired of their house moving all the time.” Never did I consider that a person could get tired of their house feeling like it was moving, and prefer the actually moving house.
Does this mean I am ready to go overboard and abandon land? I don’t know. Can one be ready for that sort of thing? All I know is that I love being on the water, near the water, and in the water. I love sea birds, stars, small, deserted islands, being with my family, and sitting with Jay on the foredeck in the moonlight. When I’m at home, I think constantly of being back on the boat, and when I’m on the boat I finally feel at home.