12: The One Time I Definitely, Almost, Probably Most Likely Thought I was Going to Die*

*But was actually not in any real danger

Well, I’m Alive

Turns out, I'm not a boat person. I just found this out and now I can say without a shred of doubt that I have absolutely no plans or intentions of sailing ever again. NEVER. And in fact, I have to seriously question those who do sail on the open sea. Why would anyone do that to themselves? 

Let me explain. 

THE CLOUDS! LOOK AT THESE CLOUDS! Trouble is on the horizon. 

On Saturday August 25, 2018 between the hours of 11pm and 3am I made peace with dying on a boat. Well, it was less peace and more of a version of:

"Ok fuck, I'm going to die here. I don't really want to drown but I am on a fucking boat right now and sort of don't have a choice, do I? How was this a good idea? This is awful. I think I'm going to be sick. I want to be anywhere but here. My life is incredible and amazing and I'm so grateful. I love all of these wonderful people (namely most everyone that is reading this blog), thank you for being a part of my life. And now I am going to figure out how I'm going to survive a sinking boat and floating for days/weeks in the open ocean." 

I'll tell you that my survival plan included the following: putting on a long sleeve shirt (so I wouldn't get totally sun burnt while floating in the ocean), bringing a small mirror I have in my toiletry bag (to reflect the sun and morse code signal to passing ships), grabbing my Nalgene bottle (which was 1/4 filled with the only fresh water I would have on hand) and of course a life jacket. Because, all bets were off it I didn't have one of those.

Perhaps I'm brilliant. Or perhaps I've watched far too many TV shows and movies but I'm pretty sure that brining the mirror is the most brilliant thing I've thought up recently. (I also had plans to fashion a weapon out of the mirror if I needed to fight off sharks. You’re welcome.) 

I was ready to grab all of these things, waiting in anticipation for the captain to yell down into the cabins that we were sinking and it was time to put on life jackets. I shit you not, this is not an exaggeration of any sorts. Is this dramatic? Yes. But I suppose not that dramatic if you think you're going to drown to death, right?

Luckily none of this happened. But my first (and close to last) night sailing was the absolute most terrifying experience of my life. Of the 8 guests on the boat, only 3 seemed bothered in the slightest the next day during breakfast when we discussed the perils of the previous evening. THREE. WTF were the other 5 people doing? Most said something along the lines of, “Ya, that was a storm, right? Crazy but I don’t think it was that bad.” 

When I mentioned it to the captain later that morning that I thought I was going to die AND it was the most terrifying night of my life, his face said it all. He was in disbelief and shock. He had no idea how I could have thought this. Last night was “typical” for him. However, he did assure me that he has 25+ years of sailing experience and that we were not in any danger that night. And, to my relief, his most prized possession was on board (his son) and he would never do anything to risk his or our safety. Temporary relief, yes. But there were still 4 more nights to go.  

Our vessel for 5 days and 5 nights. 

Night One: Saturday

Let me start at the beginning. That first evening started off fairly uneventful. A taxi picked me and 3 others up from our respective lodging in Panama City. We then drove 3+ hours to the coast and to the port where we would depart. We were greeted by our El Capitan, Umberto and his first mate, Nino the dog. We arrived at the marina around 3:30pm and he told us that we would be sailing that night at 10pm. Hmmm, my first sign of "that's interesting news, wish I had known this earlier“. This first night, it turns out was the secret 5th night of the trip. Our itinerary clearly said, 4 nights but this travel night wasn't a part of the info and didn't count against our 4 nights of travel. Curious. 

First Mate, Nino.

Myself and the 3 other people I traveled with all went in search for dinner (because that also wasn't included in this extra night either) and found an awesome little fish restaurant down the road. After dinner we headed back to the boat to meet the other 4 guests who would be joining us. In total there were 2 Americans, 4 Germans, 1 Brit and 1 Dutch. The group was split 50/50, four of us were in our 30’s, the other four were all 23 (or younger).  

By the time 10pm rolled around, everyone was eagerly awaiting the departure. The boat was awesome. The cabins were small but we would figure it out. We were an unlikely group to be together but overall the spirits were high. We all went out topside on the boat to hangout and watch as the sun set and we left the safety of the marina and the bay. The lighting and ominous black clouds on the horizon should have been my first clue but I was oblivious, too caught up in the nervous excitement of the sailing trip. Not really having any idea or expectations what I was in for over the next 4 days. 

As we were sitting on the bow, slowly the waves began to get bigger. I was one of the first to go back under the deck because I was nervous the waves would get so big that I would be too scared to walk back and even worse, within the first hour of departing I'd be the one person who would fall off the boat! 

Sweet rig. Back when I thought this was going to be fun. 

I stood up to go and WHAM. In an instant, sea sick. It was incredible how quickly that hit. In our excitement to leave the port and start sailing a few of us (me) forgot to take the Dramamine pills we had brought. A fellow traveler in Panama City had given me his spare pills since he had just completed a similar but reverse journey from Colombia to Panama. In my bravado and my misconceived perception of "I don't really get sea sick" I wasn't planning on buying any, thank god for the generosity of this friend and also for the others on the boat willing to share over the coming days. I quickly found the pill and prayed to the sea gods it would kick in fast. Within 15 minutes of getting sick, one other person vomited and a third began his all night vomit sesh. He was sick at least 10 times that night. In a strange way the camaraderie of my ill friends comforted me, at least I wasn’t alone in feeling awful. Luckily I was able to take a pill in enough time that there was no purging. A small miracle on the sailing trip from hell. 

The Captain urged us to look at the horizon, supposedly that will help you feel better. It didn't matter though. Once you're sea sick all bets are off. I needed to go to sleep. Luckily laying down helped significantly with alleviating sea sickness. And the Dramamine was kicking in, the delightful feeling of drowsiness began to overwhelm the feeling of sickness. I got up to head to my bunk, instantly feeling nauseous and like a drunken sailor hobbled my way down to my room.

By this time, the storm was in full swing. Rain, thunder, lighting. I could not have measured the waves, I couldn’t even stand up without getting sick but with some certainty I want to say that there were 8-10 foot swells. Heading back to my bunk I barely got on pajamas. Brushing my teeth that night was completely out of the question, it was impossible to stand because of the violent crashing of the boat. I climbed into the tiniest, hottest and most uncomfortable sleeping situation I’ve ever been in and feel asleep quickly, considering the horror of the situation. 

But don’t worry, it got worse. It didn't take long before the thrashing of the waves, the swelter of the room, the rain, lighting and the tilt of the boat woke me up in sheer panic. The boat would lean to one side and then another in a violent fashion, throwing me and my belongings on my bed from left to right. Every 10 waves or so the boat would take a massive wave and a second later hit the water with a loud and violent WHAP. Fearing my life, I gripped the side of my bed paralyzed in fear. I truly believed that there was nothing normal about this storm and that it would be my last night on earth. To make matters worse the room was at least 80 degrees with insane humidity. Every pore in my body was sweating. Each bunk had a personal fan but when the fan just blows oppressively hot air it was useless. There are windows in each bunk room that open to the top of the deck. Without the window open the room climbs to at least 90+ degrees, but of course on this insane night the rain was pouring down so hard that the Captain came around and closed all of the windows. 

On a boat it’s an ongoing evaluation, do you leave the window open knowing that you will not only be woken up by water splashing you and your items potentially getting wet, or do you simmer in the boiling heat of the cabin?  I always, without a doubt, opted for window open. Wide open.

The last horror of that concluded that night was if you were able to fall asleep you were alarmingly awoken to the brightest flashes of lightning you’ve literally never seen. Yes, never seen because you don't really see the lightning when you're below deck on a boat.  I don’t know exactly how close the lightning was to the but if it was close enough to wake up multiple people because of how bright it was than that is too damn close. The only silver lining was that my sea sickness was a far distant third priority. 

Day One: Sunday

I have no idea how, but the longest night of my life ended. As promised, we awoke to our first island stop. Throughout the night I think I was able to get maybe 2-3 hours of sleep. The panic and terror of thinking you’re going to die finally exhausted me to the point where sleep was possible, albeit for short intermittent periods and definitely never more than an hour at a time. Myself and others were up around 6:45 on day one, ready to find reprieve in some island time and, fingers crossed, no more rough seas.   

The whole point of this cruise was to travel through the San Blas islands. A little slice of Caribbean paradise, the San Blas is a 365 island archepelago. The trip promised 3 days of island hopping ending with a 30-50 hour sail on the open sea to Cartagena, Colombia.

Once morning rolled around I didn’t care where we were, as long as it wasn’t what we experienced the night before. 

Just a little rain.

We awoke that morning to more rain. Fortunately for us, storms move in and out at a moments notice and by the time 11am rolled around it stopped raining. It wasn't exactly sunny but it was hot and the water was delightful. The first island we arrived on was awesome made sweeter only by the reality that I was alive. The water was blue and warm and gorgeous. Exactly what you would hope for. The biggest bummer was the unimaginable amount of garbage on the beaches and in the water. It was devastating to see and throughout the entire trip an epidemic sized problem. There didn’t seem to be anyone monitoring this issue let alone caring about it. It was difficult to be around and have the guilt that we were somewhat contributing to it but mostly feeling the burden that we were not helping to fix it. 

There were two highlights to this day (beyond being alive). The first was that we were going to be sleeping in the calm waters and shelter of the reef surrounding the island. That meant a real night's sleep was in store. No funeral preparations or risk of sea sickness in my immediate future. The second highlight was the local man who sold the boat fresh caught lobster and crab. Dinner on night one was fantastic!

And of course, who can resist a great sunset? The hour of the day that the sun and light are simply glorious makes me sit and truly appreciate the crazy journey I'm on. Day 1 sunset did not disappoint. 

Day Two: Monday

On our 2nd day we arrived at the island with a tiny airport on it and the customs office for getting our passports stamped for entry into Colombia. It was a glorious night of sleeping on the calm sea near the island. By this point, it felt like this trip was getting kind of fun. But each day we reminded ourselves of the upcoming 30+ hour open sea passage. Would there be storms? Would we be used to sleeping on the boat by then? What do you do doing the day? And so on. 

During the day we repeated the main, and only, attractions: Swim. Snorkel. Eat. You could add a few activities into that, lots of people drank beers. And a small few read books, myself included. It was a delight to be able to read 1.5 books on this boat. Otherwise, there wasn’t much else to do. I suppose there was the occasional finding and smashing of coconuts for an island snack should be added in there. Delicious. 

My typical evening routine: kindle + alone time. 

For those who have sailed before, this isn’t news. For the rest of us, it was a reality that you know but you don’t really know. The sleeping arrangements are…unbearable. My “room” or “bunk” or what I liked to think of as my 5 night coffin was excruciating. It's important to reiterate that this cabin slept 3, uncomfortably. Beyond the first night’s storm, it was the 2nd worst part of this trip. There’s nothing to do to get comfortable. Inevitably every night I had to wake up in the wee hours of the morning and use the bathroom. On nights we slept near an island that was "easy" to do. On nights sailing it was beyond a chore. Not to mention that I literally had to climb in feet first to this bunk and climb over my sleeping roommates. I could’t bend my knees without hitting the ceiling. If you are claustrophobic or even think you’re claustrophobic don’t sail.  

NEWS FLASH: Everythign you put in this goes directly and immedaitely into the sea. Didn't know that one either.

My coffin, aka the top bunk bed.

Because of the aforementioned group and our respective ages, I spent a fair bit of time on this trip alone by choice. I would find little swims to go on or I would head back to the boat before the rest of the group to lounge and read my book in silence. As a natural extrovert I found the group dynamics, in a word, exhausting. Trapped on a boat with 10+ other strangers is definitely exciting at times and at other times depleting. By the 3rd day everyone seemed to know each other’s ticks and idiosyncrasies. The unspoken 30-somethings vs 20-somethings divide was starting to become more apparent. I’m not saying that the 10 year age gap is so massive, but I am saying that in terms of being self aware it is. Eventually, everyone rolled their eyes at one (or more) people on the boat. Fortunately, there were no major incidents, no mutiny on the bounty. If this trip had been any longer though, who knows…

Day Three: Tuesday

The best day yet. We sailed again in the morning to another island. This was the most remote island and there were no other tourist boats around. We had this little slice of paradise all to ourselves.

The water surrounding the island was by far the most spectacular. The captain definitely saved the best for last. It was the most beautiful day we had and the best snorkeling of my entire life. It's hard to put into words the beauty and awe of the reef that was there and how magical it was. Simply, it was breath taking. 

We only had a few hours on this island but it was well worth it. The plan was to leave around 6pm that night to begin our open water sailing to Cartagena. It felt great to leave on a high note but also nervous not knowing what to expect for the next 2 nights. 

SO HAPPY! And yes I bought a rash guard so I could snorkel without getting sunburnt. Worth it.

Freckles and sweat. 

Outtake reel. 

Day Four: Wednesday

Tuesday night’s sleep was just ok. Perhaps I was getting used to it, perhaps I was just ready to be done already. That night there was another storm. The boat rocked, but not like the 1st night. We left the window open and got rained on and awoken throughout the night. But it was ok. Just ok. 

In the morning we awoke early to the boredom and brutal heat of the open sea. The thing I didn’t expect the most was how hot it got during the day. The boat moved along and a steady pace but that didn’t matter, there wasn't much breeze below the deck. I didn’t want to risk getting sea sick or worse, sun burned so I stayed pretty much all day in the seating area reading and trying to stay cool. 

It would have been a tradeoff, go up on deck and get some air but be in the direct sunlight. It was really an option for me, I choice the safety of coverage over sun.

The beauty of the open ocean. Not a storm cloud in the sky, right? 

The food on the last day was by far the least impressive. I don’t blame the chef, it’s not like boiling a pot of water in the heat and the open sea is fun or easy. But it made the day a bit less enjoyable without the delicious meals we were previously receiving. 

The day dragged on. By the time the sun sets around 7 or 8pm you can’t have any lights on in the boat because the Captain and crew need to see if there are any other oncoming boats. So literally, you just sit there. It's not late enough to go to sleep but there also isn't anything to do. It was unbelievable though, the lack of light pollution on the ocean and the perfect timing of a full moon made for an incredible evening viewing. By the time night hit the heat also decreased and it was a pleasant time to socialize and to just be. Most everyone was taking Dramamine again by that point so the drowsiness hit around 9pm and folks headed off to bed early. 

My favorite German couple from the trip. 

The day on the open sea was long, hot and a bit boring. It was somewhat of the feather in the cap of this trip. It wasn’t good or bad, it just was. But more importantly, it meant we were almost done. And I was very done with this boat ride. 

Day Five: Thursday

We arrived in Cartagena around 7am. THANK GOD. The views from the bay were stunning. The city scape was much larger than anyone expected. We were given breakfast on board and by around 9pm everyone had packed and left the boat. I can say that I had a nervous but eager energy. We gave the crew hugs and thanked them for the trip. They were incredible nice and generous with their time, even if this wasn’t my ideal 5 days, others seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves. 

On our last morning the group made some half hearted attempts at exchanging information and pictures. There was an amazing German couple that I adore (and I think they liked me too). We definitely kept in touch after the trip and had dinner. But everyone else basically went on their way. A few of the 20-somethings making plans later that week to party and half heartedly invited the rest of the group. A funny and odd ending to what could have been a group of lifelong (social media) friends ended in casual hug and goodbye. Adding yet another unexpected moment to this trip. Not that I was deeply upset about it either. 

In summary, would I do this trip again…NOPE. But, I hear there is a really cool 5 day boat trip in the Philippines that is supposed to be amazing…

- M