It was a glorious morning.
For nearly two years now, John had been anticipating this very day. You see, John was an avid sailor. Ever since he was a child he dreamed of owning a sailboat, retiring early, and setting sail on some great adventures.
At age 48, John had managed to do just that. He retired from his 9-5 office job, purchased a sailboat and began planning his great adventure. He just couldn’t believe this was finally about to happen.
At age 50, John had planned to become the oldest man to ever cross the Atlantic Ocean by sailboat. This daunting task had only been completed by 4 other men in the world at this time. John knew it was crazy, but with the help of a small team and a plan that took up over two years to create, he knew there was a decent possibility that this dream could become a reality.
The plan set in motion on an early May morning. He had taken the last few days to prepare what he would need to have for the nearly two-three week travel time he would be experiencing. The boat itself with all the gear packed also had to have a specific weight limit so as to create an overall better experience.
He packed fishing gear to help with meals he would need along the way. He packed a change of clothing for at least every other day. He set his sails up and included a patch kit just in case something were to happen while out at sea.. Most importantly he had packed a compass to help him lead his way through.
Upon arriving to port in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, John met with his planning team to have them double check everything. After final inspections were through, the men gave their final goodbyes to John and would eventually meet him at the ending port in Ireland.
John set sail at 8:30 AM Eastern Standard Time.
The first two days flew by and John was positive at this point that he was going to make this happen. He had never felt more in control of his life. The salty water of the ocean waves crashed against his boat. He was exactly where he needed to be.
The sea air was warm.
John kept a journal of his daily routine so that he would have it to remember. Some days the words weren’t there and all he could do was draw a picture or write a poem. Words could not simply describe his life in this very moment. Perhaps a feeling of serenity or absolute euphoria.
A week had passed by and all was still smooth. He had run into a small stretch of rain earlier the day prior, but it cleared up rather quickly and he was still on the right path to arrive to port within another week.
On the evening of day nine, things began to get a bit bumpy. John checked his sails and made sure they were tied on tightly. The wind was picking up. The waves were now slamming the boat back and forth splashing water over the side. John took a moment and looked up into the sky. What wasn’t there 10 minutes prior was sure there now.
The wind continued to drive and rock the boat. The largest storm he had ever witnessed was within minutes of him.
John was starting to be toss aside now as well. 9 days into this journey and was this going to be it? He grabbed his life vest and put it on. Seconds later, the wind took the sales and knocked them directly into John. He grabbed on tight but could not hang on. He was tossed into the ocean.
He quickly attempted to swim back to the surface. Panic wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Once he arrived to the surface he took a quick look around to try to find his sailboat. Without hesitation, he swam as fast as he could towards it. It had tipped over on it’s side and the waves were pushing it further away.
John quickly grabbed a rope that had flown from the boat and tied it to a railing. He had to attempt to get the boat back upright. This was no easy task as the winds were still forcing it over. With everything he had in him, he swam to the other side of the boat and closed up the sails to make it easier. He tied them down and swam back again. This was impossible. He was going to lose it. 9 days in.
John looked back up at the sky again. There seemed to be a clearing in the sky coming. He knew at that moment if he could just hold on a little longer that he might be able to get this boat back.
An hour went by and he was finally able to pull it up with out any force from the wind. He looked at his compass and realized that the bout of storms he just lived through tossed him off course. He needed to get back on course and now. He rushed over to the sails and reopened them. He positioned them back and the wind picked them up again. The worst was over.
John resettled his belongings after being tossed about and sat down exhausted. He couldn’t believe he had just survived what could’ve been a terrible shipwreck. Would people know he had gone missing? What about his friends waiting for him at the port in Ireland? John took out his sopping wet journal and wrote down what had happened.
Four more days passed by without so much as a raindrop or a cloud in the sky. The wind died down a bit so John decided to help his journey along a bit and start to paddle. Suddenly, far off in the distance he could see it. His initial feelings of euphoria returned and you couldn’t take the smile off of his face. He paddled harder and readjusted the sails to help get him there faster.
He had finally reached land. Never has he wanted to kiss the ground more. He tied off his boat at the dock and lowered his sails. John immediately began to look around for his friends who would be waiting for him there. He walked around into the town a bit thinking that perhaps they were just in a pub biding time. He noticed something was off. Nothing here looked as though he could even remotely be in Ireland.
John walked into the nearest pub and asked the bartender where he had landed.
The bartender replied, “Portugal.”
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Photo credits:
https://www.redbull.com/sg-en/riding-the-storm
https://www.macsadventure.com/cycling-holidays/europe-cycling-holidays/portugal/