Sea legs

"Did you get sea sick?" Is a question I hear often now that I'm back. The answer is yes, I certainly did. Was it bad? Well, you get used to it, your body adapts, then it passes and all is well again.

The first day out of Ko Olina started off great, the seas were relitively gentle, and it was a warm day. I was wearing a patch just behind my ear which is supposed to help with motion sickness. I've been sea sick before, but that was stopped on a motor boat out in Monterey Bay, never while sailing. Of course even in a sailboat, I know that going into the cabin while rolling over the waves will make me sick nearly instantly, but up above with a fresh breeze, and active involvement in working the boat keeps down any reactions.

This time was different. I thought the medication would keep away any symptoms, but within only a few hours I was feeling ill. What really triggered it was working up on the bow of the boat, changing sails. The forward part of the boat just moves more, it lifts and drops each time the boat crosses the waves, in a way that the stern of the boat does not.

Then trying to go below, into the cabin only exaserbated the situation. Several of us got sick that first day.

It gets better though, and the sleep is the magic elixer that cures it. I would guess that while you're sleeping your body adapts, it stops trying to fight the motion, and accepts that this new and fluid enviroment is simply the way things are now.

Those first few days, we spent a lot of time sleeping in the cockpit, to avoid trips below. Either that or you would have to make the "sleep run," where you rush down the companionway steps into the cabin, wedge yourself into the berth as quick as possible so you can lay down an close your eyes. That's the safe position, eyes tight to shut out the vision of a world just before you that roils with motion that defies all attempts to fix it in place. Your mind tries to reject such an incongruous pairing of sensation and sight; shutting out one sensory channel is the only avenue of respite. Once you wake, then you rush the opposite way, carefully waiting to open your eyes and make the mad dash back outside.

I slept in my gear a lot those first few days, lying in the bunk with a life jacket on, trying to fall asleep and gain some relief.

That was really only the first two days, and once you gain your sea legs, everything is wonderful agian. Your world become a playground, the challenges of balancing down below are fun (unless it's really rough) and sometimes sitting in the salon or the v-berth at the front of the boat and just feeling the motion is a delight. It's hard to describe the difference, because there is a subtle difference in the way you feel the motion. Initially there was that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, the constant sensation of lifting and falling, but then it goes away. You still feel the motion a bit in your head, but it's like your brain turns the volume on it down to the point where it's just a murmur in your mind.

Later, towards the end of the trip, when the seas got really rough, the sea sickness came back. It seems, that adaptation happens by degrees, so it was back to the medication, back to rushed trips down to the bunks, and lots of time outside. That passed again as well for most of us, but it can really make you miserable for a time. Though I think that few of us were on this trip to do things the easy way, or to let the discomfort discourage us. If we wanted that, we'd be on one of those gigantic floating-city type cruise ships.