Conquering that fear

It was bright and sunny. The sea was calm but slightly wavy with a nice light breeze. The single seater laser (dinghy class) sail boat which I was sailing was cruising along smoothly . The open sea and the calming breeze always had a mesmerising charm and made me feel one with nature. Suddenly the wind started picking up speed. My boat too responded like a stallion that has been spurred. With the adrenaline rush I felt that I was on the top of the world. Nothing seemed to matter other than the feeling of speed, power and control as the boat raced forward skipping up and down the waves.

I was practically horizontal with my torso jutting out of the boat with the sheet (the line that controls the sail) in one hand and tiller (that controls the rudder) in the other hand. Suddenly the wind shifted. I was taken unawares and the boat turned turtle. This happens occasionally when we sail a little boat; nothing to worry about. There is a simple way to turn it around; a matter of technique than strength.

I had already jumped into the water and was hovering around the boat enjoying the waves. Then I tried to turn the boat over. Suddenly I had a severe catch in my shoulder muscle. I could not move my right hand. I realised that I was in trouble. Tried some work around; but, nothing would help. I just could not move my right hand and it was hurting badly. I hung on to the boat and decided to wait it out. The wind was getting harder blowing away from the land and I was drifting into the sea farther and farther.

This happened, when I was based in Jakarta for couple of years. . I always loved the sea and sailing was my passion. When I realised that there was a sailing club not so far away (about 150 km) from home. I was excited. I immediately signed up and used to visit the club at least twice a month. I would for the weekend and sail about four to five hours both the days. I enjoyed the experience thoroughly.

Now as I was drifting deep into the sea with one hand almost paralysed, the realisation dawned on to me that I could be in deep trouble. Minutes were ticking away. There were no boats to be seen anywhere near. . As it was lunch time all the other sailors were back on shore for their lunch or siesta. I started to feel scared; scared at the prospect that I may not return alive. A watery grave appeared a distinct possibility. There was nothing that I could do except pray for divine intervention.

Faces of that little girl who follows me calling me dada, her mother, my mother, my friends; all started fleeting in front of my eyes. Each minute felt like an hour. I felt the energy draining out of my body. I hung on there with a faith that there is somebody who looks after me and without his wish nothing will happen.

I closed my eyes and tried to relax. It was almost an hour since my boat had capsized. Then suddenly I heard the roar of a motor boat. I thought that I might be dreaming. I opened my eyes and looked around, and there it was; the rescue boat looking for me. Oh! What a relief.

They reached near me. I was too tired even to climb into the boat. They had to drag me in. I lay in the boat thanking my luck and the supreme intervention. When I reached the shore I had to be practically carried out to the hammock. Liz told me as she was relaxing at the shore she had a uneasy feeling that something was wrong. So she looked far and could see no mast. She told the rescue team that I may be in trouble. They told her that as I was a good sailor so there was no need to worry. They felt that I might have gone around a small island nearby and that is why the mast could not be seen. But she insisted that they take a look; and that saved my life.

I had a cool drink and lay down for an hour. Then I decided that I had to go out for one more trip immediately. I knew if I don’t do that then, the last memory in my mind would be the scary experience and I could permanently give up my confidence to be out in the sea.

I got up and walked to the boat. My wife and friends thought I was mad and enjoined me that I desist from this. But I got into the boat, went back to the same spot where I was drifting helplessly for an hour.

Then I returned. . I knew I had conquered one fear. The lesson stayed back in my mind. One way to overcome the fear is to try the experience once again (so long as it is repeatable).

Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. Ambrose Redmoon