The Incident

You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.

                       ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

My Facebook post June 29, 2010 was uncanny. How could I have known the many layers of meaning that would soon take in my life. My post the next day would read like this:






Things Can Change in an Instant
June 30, 2010

On the first day of sailing lessons we learned how to right a capsized boat. Little could we guess how soon we would need that skill. Yesterday on the second day of sailing lesson, we learned the basics of how to sail. There was such little wind it was perfect for a beginner. I had to concentrate, “to turn left, pull rudder right, to turn right, pull rudder left, look at wind direction, angle of sail, which way is tacking? Which way is jibing? So much to think about, none of it intuitive. I felt like I was concentrating on a six dimensional moving puzzle or patting my head and rubbing my belly at the same time and SO grateful for the barely-a-breeze day on Lake Champlain.

We were having a good time. Chris was doing donuts around the buoys like a pro. An hour into it the wind picked up. It was too much for me and my fuddled brain slowly repeating, “to turn left, pull rudder right, to turn right pull the rudder left”, he was doing much better so I asked him to take the tiller. Within seconds the wind started blowing hard, we were going fast and out of control. The wind was going 35mph and this boat was safe in 12mph winds.

Headed straight into the open water towards New York, we knew we were in over our heads. Chris did a great job of handling the rudder and the sails but we knew we were in trouble. Big waves appeared, every one rhythmically hitting me full on in the face and breaking over my head. The boat was nearly capsizing with the force of the wind. We climbed up on the side and used all our body weight for ballast to keep the sailboat upright.

A few times I thought this was it, but was amazed to find we were still upright. I was beginning to panic, realizing there was no way we could turn around. We were almost capsizing as it was and to turn around would have clearly knocked us over, not to mention the sheer force of the boom as it spun around hitting us in the head. It was a tiny 420 boat and there wasn’t any room to move out of a fast moving boom's way. I looked for the line to take the sail down, but couldn’t figure out which one it was or how to get to it without being tossed into the waves. The only thing to do was to hold on and try to keep the boat up. We were going to New York.

We capsized. It happened so fast I don’t remember it. I looked for Chris and was so relieved to see him ok, floating 30 feet from me. We swam towards each other. He hollered “are you ok?” above the wind and I realized I could barely breathe. Adrenaline pumping, life vest straggling me around the neck, I just could barely breathe or talk so I gave him a thumbs up and whispered I needed a moment to catch my breath. It took a few minutes. It seemed like forever.

The boat was upside down, turtled in the middle of nowhere. We bobbed like corks in the big waves and the howling winds, unsure of what to do. We hadn’t covered this in the lesson. After a while the teacher approached in her motorboat. We were the furthest out of all her students. I was so relieved, I thought she’d help us and we’d be ok now.

To my surprise, instead of getting us on her boat and out of there, she hollered out instructions. I realized I had expected a rescue and it wasn't coming. She shouted to point the bow into the wind, right the boat, and get back on it. We could barely make out her words above the water and wind, and then she was off to help the other boats. The prospect didn’t sound exciting to me. At best, we would succeed and be in the same position we were in before, heading fast to New York with no way to turn around. Not knowing what else to do, it seemed prudent to follow the expert's advice.

Swimming and pulling the boat through the waves was really heavy and hard. Eventually, we got the bow into the wind. We climbed up on top of it and managed to flip the boat on its side. It was a bit like wrestling a whale. We tried righting it and almost got it up. The next thing I remember the boat was upside down again. I had a huge gash in my arm, like a shark had taken a bite. I was surprised to see the white of flesh deep inside my arm and have absolutely no pain. That was surreal. I knew I was in shock or just cold, but it was amazing to have no sensation with my arm so slit open. We tried righting the boat again, and again, it turtled.

In between swallowing waves of water, we looked up and noticed that the ferry boat was fast approaching. Storm clouds were also coming. I was grateful it wasn’t raining and realized this could be much worse. I wondered if we’d get hit by the ferry or lightening first. But no time to dwell on that thought.

Again we pulled the whale of a boat into the right direction. Again we got it on its side. This time we got it upright, which scooped me into the boat, the way we were instructed yesterday. I was in the boat for a half second, excited that we had succeeded, and before I knew it the wind took the sail and flipped it over again upside down. The boat had done a complete 360 degree somersault with me in it. It was so fast. It must have flipped the whole boat right with me in it on top of Chris. He doesn’t remember, I don’t remember. We came up again. Again relieved to find each other safe 35 feet away. How did we get thrown so far?

I could taste blood, my face was warm. I spit out my front tooth. Where I used to have a tooth, was now a hole. The remnants of my tooth were sharp. Chris took one look at me and his demeanor got very calm and reassuring. “Come here and hold my hands. You are ok.” This was feeling serious. We found ourselves suddenly alone in the middle of the lake, with no experience, in a life-threatening situation, not knowing what to do.

Looking towards shore I saw four other turtled boats dotting the turbulent water. It was reassuring to know this storm was challenging to more experienced sailors. The ferry boat was coming close enough to add a new element of panic. I felt like an ant under an elephant’s foot. It turned in front of us. I noticed a crowd of people standing on the ferry watching us. We were trying to survive, and not sure what to do next. They must have been entertained I thought. I found out later than the ferry turned to create a breakwater for us and protect us from the waves. I feel loved.

Why do my eyes look so strange?

 The Coast Guard finally showed up. I swam over to their boat so adrenaline pumping fast. I could still feel and taste warm blood pouring down my face. I felt no pain and had no idea where the blood was from. The five Coast Guards on the boat looked frightened when they saw me. They exchanged a look of alarm. “Call the ambulance” I heard them say as they pulled me on board. My arms was dripping blood and they told me to hold it up.

I was cold and shaking. The lake in June is still cold. I was cold and shaking for hours afterward. I was still dripping wet in the ER hours later getting seven stitches in my arm. Self-hypnosis and reiki came in really handy at keeping me calm and relaxed and painfree. My knees are scraped, my legs bruised, I miss my tooth and I am ok. Chris is miraculously fine.

 I am so humbled by this experience. So humbled by the power of nature. I feel the same way I did after surviving the Santa Cruz mudslides in 1983 or the San Francisco Loma Prieta earthquake in 1989. I am left with so many thoughts and questions which will sorted out over time.

I wanted to sail because of the beauty of working in harmony with nature. Because I love the water and I’m a fan of wind power. I had no idea a joy ride on the lake was so dangerous. When I got home I asked my 13 year old son what I should do. I wasn't so sure I wanted to sail anymore. His answer was endearing. “Mom remember when I was learning to ride a bike and I fell off and skinned my knees? You told me to get right back on and not let fear stop me. Biking is really fun now.”


I am happy to be alive today, and am reminded how things can change in an instant. I thought I was turning right and I went left. How often is life like that wind? Calm one moment and when you are least expecting it, you are in the middle of a storm. We can’t stop the storms but we can try to surf them as gracefully as possible. We can remember to be grateful that at least it isn’t raining, things could always be worse, and to love the ones we are with.