Sail Away...

“Showers in the morning.  Chance of thunderstorms in the afternoon.”—so said the weather channel for Dana Point last night.  Considering I had to drive down to the Ocean Institute in Dana Point for a boating fieldtrip required for one of my classes, I was pretty disappointed.  I don’t get to go out to sea often.  In fact, I can actually count on one hand how many times I have been out on the ocean.  Until I heard about the ominous gray and cold forecast I had so been looking forward to going out there! 

This morning, when I looked out my bedroom window at the gloomy day and checked the online weather—again—for Dana Point, I almost considered not going.  “All-day thunderstorms.”  I’m a woman for 75 degree weather and constant sunshine and blue skies with the occasional white puffy cloud decorating the sky here and there—not thunderstorms!  But I sucked it up, made the definite decision to go and bundled myself up in my warmest clothing.  Maybe the weather would be all right.  Maybe it wouldn’t rain the whole time.  At least I’d get it over with. 

As I drove down the 5 freeway at 8:15 (I had to be there by 9:15) the dark clouds overhead began to drift away and the warm rays of the sun shot through the sky—and when I got down to Dana Point and parked my car at the Ocean Institute, I looked up and saw that the dark clouds had formed a huge half-circle around where I stood.  There was clear blue sky right above me, stretching out like a giant blanket toward Catalina, and the pale yellow sunlight felt so good on my face.  I sent a silent but heartfelt thank you to God for keeping the weather nice.  Maybe it wouldn’t rain after all!

There were about 15 or 20 of us that came out today.  Shanette, the Ocean Institute employee who was in charge of our little group, was so pleased that we’d decided to brave the weather and show up.  “I was afraid you all would bail today!  The fact that you guys showed up tells me that you have a bit of an adventurous spirit in you—that’s fantastic!”  And she’s right—I suppose I do! 

Then Shanette ushered us onto the research boat and stuffed our hands with muffins, bagels and cream cheese, fresh fruit, croissants, coffee and hot chocolate, telling us we needed our strength.  After we munched on our goodies and listened to a brief safety talk and met with and greeted the other crew members and the captain himself, the girls and I went out to the front of the boat.  As we powered through the harbor, we exclaimed over the different types of birds that were nesting along the jetty—pelicans, gulls, and little birds that looked like black ducks.  Did you know that the older pelicans have white heads?  Neither did I, until today!  I was still admiring the pelicans’ grace in the air when suddenly a blast of cold air tossed my hair into my face—we were finally going out to sea!

The sky was still a brilliant blue above and the golden sunlight was even stronger now.  I went to stand near the prow of the boat with a few other brave souls who weren’t afraid of getting wet, clutching the handrail so I wouldn’t fall on my face as the boat rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.  The icy wind buffeted against me and the waves leapt up against the sides of the boat, lapping greedily at my pant legs—but I was hardly aware of this.  My eyes were fixed on the horizon, on the faint outline of Catalina Island, on the chopping waves, the white foam stark against the black-blue water.  It was one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. 

It didn’t take long for my body to begin to sway on its own to the rhythm of the boat, and now that my balance was much more stable, I edged further along until I was at the tip of the prow.  The icy wind whistled in my ears, slowly numbing my face, throwing and tangling my hair all around.  The churning waves splashed up, raining down on me, soaking my jacket and my jeans.  I licked my lips, tasting the brine, completely uncaring that I was drenched or that my hands were growing red from the wind and numbing until I could barely feel the rail beneath my palms.  I was mesmerized by the ocean and the potent beauty of a stormy Nature. 

With every dip and crash of the waves against the boat I felt my spirits get lighter and lighter.  Laughter and screams of delight from the rest of the girls sounded all around me, and my own screams and laughter mingled with theirs.  “Look!  Look!  There’s a sea lion!  At 12:00!”  Then, “Look!  Another one!”  We clapped and cheered as two sea lions leapt among the waves, spinning and twirling in midair before they slipped back down beneath the frothing water.  We all were one entity, delighting in this wet and wild adventure.  Then, after a while, the laughter faded and I focused on the sounds of the water and wind, losing myself in my own thoughts.

It’s hard to describe what I felt in my soul as we sailed over the water.  There is something very healing about the sea, isn’t there?  I have always felt there is.  I love the beach and the sea.  I’ve always loved it.  I couldn’t live in a place without it.  I have always felt closest to God when I’m at the beach.  It is a place where the earth meets the heavens, one of the many places were the beauty of God’s creation takes my breath away, and therefore, for me, it is a place for reflection and introspection, to thank God for the many blessings in my life and to ask him for His guidance.  Today’s experience was no different.  When you look at the beauty and wonders of nature, how can you doubt God?  My soul was unbound and I was free to soar in His loving majesty.

Now I’m back home, all warm and cozy and happily windburnt under a pile of fuzzy blankets.  I’m so glad I went down to Dana Point today.  It was a beautiful day!

<3