Much was written about the journey to Ithaka; hell, Homer even came up with a complete odyssey... Yet like with any other journey, so does the one to Ithaka; They all begin with one small step for women and end with the age-old last mile problem.
When the Genesis slipped into the bay of Ithaka in mid-august, it was as majestic as ever, and the wind was blowing hard at 30 Knots with gusts of up to 40. The bay was swarming with sailing yachts, desperately looking for a place to dock for the night. I had a minimal crew on board (wife and two little girls) and a scarred, worn-out ego from numerous encounters on land air, and sea. So… I dropped anchor in the middle of the bay, awaiting the wind to calm down before I went about the business of docking, i.e., the last mile.
Life onboard, slow to begin with, came to a complete halt. There was nothing better to do other than fly a big kite; the girl's inflatable sea turtle that, with a bottle of water tied to its tail and 30 knots of wind, flew like there is no tomorrow. And... watch the yachts flocking into the bay like doomed ducks attempting to dock in 30 Knots crosswind.
Even in less demanding conditions, the gap between a skipper and his ego makes for an endless stream of occurrences, anything from funny anecdotes all the way to life-threatening situations. One by one they came crashing into the yachts that did manage, hurt and scarred, to tie to the dock beforehand. Every attempt came complete with a loud cacophony of shouting and cursing from the boats making the approach as well as from the skippers on the receiving end (standing by the dock), hopelessly trying to prevent the inevitable thump of fiberglass.
Then came one more.
A big two-masted white and blue Hallberg-Rassy, for sure not one of the cheap rentals running around in droves at the height of the summer season. The yacht passed on my stern clearly headed to the crowded hectic dock.
Behind the wheel stood a blond Viking with a mountainous body. He was steering fast in reverse, with his back to the bow (as should be), aiming to a small gap in the battered line of boats at the dock. In the cockpit behind him sat two sleepy young lads, and further out on the bow bending over the anchor's lever, stood a celebrated Nordic Amazon. The silence on board was deafening. Nobody said a word, no eye contact was made, boys dozing off, he is doing his thing, she is doing hers... and only the wind screaming in the shrouds. Suddenly, what seemed like a battle zone just a moment before, was now a sleepy scene of a family pulling into the parking lot with the kids dozing off in the back.
Without the Viking uttering a single word, nor turning towards the bow to gesture, the Amazon dropped anchor in one decisive thrust. The anchor fell, and the chain began to run making a loud crackling noise. The youth in the cockpit showed no sign of life, and the boat held its course. A few seconds later, the Amazon locked the chain in another swift move, and it began to take load-lifting up from the water. When it was clear the anchor took hold, she briskly rereleased the chain again all the while the Viking on the wheel kept steering with his gaze fixed to the dock, oblivious to all the action behind him.
In a strong crosswind, speed is of the essence. If you hesitate and come in too slow, you will crash; if you come in fast but botch the approach, you will crash harder. In other words, you must act as if you know what you are doing even if you don't; if you tiptoe your way in, you are f***ed for sure. The Hallberg-Rassy came in fast. Very fast. The trick is to come at an angle to the desired spot, compensate for the wind, and then let the anchor straighten the yacht in the last few meters so it goes straight in rather than crash into the others. The Viking at the helm had the boat committed. The Amazon on the bow was calling the shots. She locked the chain in perfect timing, the chain lifted from the water, the nose straightened, and the yacht slipped into place like a charm. The two boys got to their feet, walked back, hopped on the dock with rope in hand, and secured the boat in one clean move. Next thing, they were all walking down the pier. Silence.
It is, indeed, all about the journey. Ithaka, the majestic heavenly Ithaka, is simply a means to an end. True, when the going gets tough, the tough get going. The wise, however, ask themselves if they are the Viking in the story. If they are not, they would not hesitate to drop anchor, await better conditions... and then play tough.
Eventually, you will go in, and when you do, having a trusted Amazon on the bow is the real deal. And yes… It does make all the difference in the world to know if the island ahead is indeed, as Constantin Cavafy puts in his immortal poem "Ithaka" - the last island.
Ithaka (Constantine Cavafy)
As you set out for Ithaka
hope the voyage is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon- don't be afraid of them:
you'll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon- you won't encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
May there be many a summer morning when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
the sensual perfume of every kind-
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her, you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won't have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.
Constantine Cavafy
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