Camaraderie

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A few weeks ago, I participated in a 45 mile ocean race with 6 other crew members and a 33-foot boat.  There were 10 other competitors in our class.  One of them - a very fast boat-had a handicap rating, which meant we had to beat them by 20 minutes (in a 61/2 hour race).

We did our best and did a good job with tactics and sail changes.  But our handicap was such that this just wasn’t enough.

A big boat from another class was right behind me, bearing down hard, some 13 miles from the finish line.  My tactician said “Okay, now I’m going to teach you something new.”  He had me maneuver the boat so they’d go under me (meaning I was between the wind and the other boat) so I would not slow down in their wind shadow.  Once they almost passed me, and I turned the boat down to catch their wake.  Evidently, this is the “on the water” version of what bicyclists do when they follow another closely - it actually makes you go faster!  And it worked, because, suddenly, I was going a knot faster.  The waves were big, fast, and furious.  It took a lot of strength on my part to keep my boat directly behind the bigger boat and stay in their wake.  I stayed in his wake for 8 miles and 1 hour.  When the wind died down a bit, his boat took off, and I was back to just being a small boat in the race. 

The guys in front on my boat were getting soaked and when one more huge wave actually broke over the boat, I too was soaked.  One of them leaned back and said sympathetically, “Oh, did you get wet Doc?”  I said “Yes,” as I spit out salt water.  As if orchestrated, they all turned and said simultaneously:  “Awwwwwwwwww.”  It was hilarious, and it felt great.  The team was working together, kidding each other in the heat of battle, and I just loved it!

When we docked, we all got off the boat extremely wet and all body parts hurting.  We all moaned and groaned as I said “Whose stupid idea was this?”  Again, they all turned, laughing, and pointed at me.  We hit the restrooms and cleaned up, and then went out to dinner to celebrate a job well done…done as a team, and done with humor.

We were at the restaurant toasting each other and laughing and throwing food down with passion, when we realized we were happy and didn’t even know if we had won anything in the race or not.  That was the best part - that we didn’t need a “win” to enjoy our camaraderie and our time out on the ocean.

It wasn’t until the next day we discovered we had won the race by (remember, this was a 45 mile race that took 6 1/2 hours)…..TWO SECONDS!  Bless that big boat’s wake!  We were all stunned at the result.  Whew!  But even without the win, we had a great time together facing the elements.

A Man With A Vision

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I want to tell you about an extraordinary man’s vision and commitment.  In this case, “vision” is figurative, because he is, quite literally, blind.

Urban Miyares is a Vietnam veteran.  At the end of a particularly horrendous firefight, he was mistakenly put into a body bag for dead.  Two days later, when the bags were opened to do identifications, a medic assistant noticed that he was not dead.  His injuries were severe, and he is now blind, but he didn’t miss a beat to stay involved in life.  He has started and operated many businesses and has always used his talents.  He didn’t “quit” on life.

Urban is the founder and director of Challenged America (www.challengedamerica.org), whose mission is to introduce sailing as a therapeutic and rehabilitative-enhancing activity to individuals with disabilities. That sounds very nice, but what put me “over the top” was his firm commitment to working only with people who are committed to being involved in work and life.  If they aren’t working or in work training, he won’t take them into the program.  He told me that the folks who just get disability and sit around are directed toward regular sailing schools.  He works hard with people who are equally committed to working hard.

That sounds more than nice.  It is brilliant.  Never be more committed to helping someone than they are committed to helping themselves!  When Urban made those pronouncements, I was all aboard with ferocious enthusiasm, as I share that philosophy and that’s why I chide so many parents and other family members for trying harder than the one they’re helping.  Continual rescues only serve to let the person they’re “helping” continue on his or her destructive path, and to assuage any feelings of guilt on the part of the helper by keeping the other afloat when that person is not even trying  to tread water.

I participated in a wonderful dinner (where I was the keynote speaker), silent auction, and regatta in support of Challenged America.   I was very proud to be part of all those events to benefit such a worthy operation.  Check them out at www.challengedamerica.org.

Facing Your Fears

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Recently, on a Friday afternoon, I had an experience which challenged my fears and comfort level.  I went out sailing in 20-30 knots of wind, with 6 - 8 foot swells, in a very, very narrow boat only 41 feet long.  I have five experienced crew with me.  And I was nervous.

Believe you me, it is an intimidating experience when a little sailboat is planing at over 20 knots with gusts and crazy waves.  You don’t have a lot of opportunity to think things through or to hesitate - a five degree wrong move and….WIPEOUT!  In the cold water and sloppy big waves, that could mean “man overboard” with the boat temporarily out of control. (Watch the experience.)

I am learning to skipper a boat under these conditions, where you have to run on “feel” and not so much on thinking things through.  I have lots to learn and practice, but whoo hoo!  What a ride!

In doing this, I faced rational fear and was out of my comfort zone.  It took 48 hours for me to come down from that exhilaration.  It changes you.  I feel proud of myself; I know I’m getting better and better.  Facing fears and limitations, while scary, leads to such acceleration in joy of life and a growing self-confidence, that it is more than worth the scary moments.

As I keep nagging at you folks, things are scary until they become familiar.  Practice and forcing yourself to face the experience time and again gives you familiarity which gives you confidence, and a natural, free, and legal “high.”

The Ride of My Life

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Last week, I took part in my first international ocean sailboat race.  There were six of us in a narrow, 42-foot sailboat with teams working around the clock in shifts of four hours awake and four hours trying to nap, unless we had to do a sail change, in which case it was everybody up on deck.

I did this because I wanted an adventure, and I got it:  whales, dolphins, sharks, flying fish (we tried - and failed - to catch a fish for dinner), and giant sea turtles.  The race covered 850 miles from Newport Beach, California to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.  The days before we launched, I have to admit that I was afraid.  The days after we finished….well, I was transformed.  My most vivid memory is racing the last ten miles in the moonlight with a brisk wind:  I was steering with tears running down my face because I was so moved by the whole experience.

Facing fears and enduring hardships changes you in a very good way.  When you know you can get through extraordinary challenges, it makes everyday issues “mellow out.”

I want to thank my crew:  Kevin Miller (tactician), Eric Bohman (navigator), Kit Will (one of the stars of Morning Light), Sam Solhaug, and Paul Wolthausen for the ride of my life!

from left to right:
Sam Solhaug, Paul Wolthausen, Eric Bohman, Dr. Laura, Kevin Miller, Kit Will

Teen Sailor Gets Dissed by the Associated Press

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A now 17-year-old boy from Thousand Oaks, California recently sailed, by himself, some 28,000 miles in one year on a 36-foot sailboat.  Zac Sunderland was 16 when he left Marina del Rey harbor in June, 2008.

The Associated Press writer was a bit snarky, I think, when writing: “But the shaggy-haired Thousand Oaks native might not hold the record of being the youngest person to sail around the world alone for long.  British sailor Mike Perham is a few months younger than Sunderland, and is sailing a bigger, faster boat.”

If I were Zac’s mother, this would have annoyed me.  I’m not his mother, but it annoys me.  Assuming she or he wants to keep a scrapbook commemorating his sailing exploits, what a snarky thing to have included.  “A few months…a bigger, faster boat.”  So what?

Here is a 16 (now 17) year old kid who, instead of partying, abusing drugs, alcohol or hanging out with silly girls, instead of spending hours on Facebook, MySpace, Twitter or whatever, instead of hanging in his room sullen, instead of causing trouble at school, instead of driving too fast in the car he shouldn’t have been given in the first place, instead of a lot of typical teenage boy activities, took on a challenge that was to test his ability to discipline himself, live austerely, deal with unpredictable weather and seas, survive loneliness and fear, and fix equipment failures when warranted.

Shoving up his nose in print that someone else trying it is younger and has a better boat, shows, in my opinion, a complete ignorance of the difficulties and challenges he had to face.  It is remarkable for such a young person to brave all the elements of wind and sea to take an incredible journey on his own.  I am sure he now has a healthy respect for nature, life and himself.  I am sure he won’t hesitate to face many other challenges on land.  I am sure he won’t be abusing himself or substances to get a “rush.”  I am sure he’s a fine young man who should be an inspiration to other teens.  You are never too young to have a dream and go for it.

I’m sure his mom is very proud.  She should be!

It’s Not Over Until …

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As I have mentioned on the air many times, I race sailboats.  I’ve won some races and lost some, but the favorite wins have been the ones that I least expected would or could happen.  I remember the time that we were over early at the start and had to do a penalty turn of 360 degrees, after getting out of the way of the other starting boats.  We had a heck of a time starting again, as, by the time we finished our penalty turn, many boats were already in our way. 

This incident happened early on in my sailing training, and I became despondent almost immediately, because I realized we now had absolutely no chance of even a third place finish, let alone a first.  My coach and tactician sternly yanked me out of my doldrums and told me that we were “down but not out,” and we had to work even harder now to catch up.  Frankly, I thought this was philosophically lovely, but hugely impractical, and I could barely see the sterns of the boats in front of us as they had so much distance on us.

Nonetheless, after considering breeze, windshifts, current, direction choices, steering, and crew work, there were enough variables to work with to keep our chins up. 

We pulled together as a team, and worked very hard to maximize every option we had, and we ended up winning the race.  I learned a lot that day.  It’s a lot more gratifying to succeed when it is a righteous challenge than when it seems like more of a slam dunk.

Jason Lezak knew this lesson.  Fifty meters from the finish line in the 4x 100 meter freestyle relay at the Beijing Olympics, Mr. Lezak doubted he could overcome the half-body length lead of his French opponent, Alain Bernard, who also happened to hold the world record in the 100-meter freestyle.

Instead of just accepting the probable loss, a determined Mr. Lezak pulled grit from down deep, and swam the fastest he’s ever done, and touched the electronically sensored wall, winning by eight one-hundredths of a second.  He shattered a world record and won a gold medal. 

And then he heard the fat lady sing…the American national anthem!