The Passage

After 17 days at sea, I’ve come to accept that the most authentic way of telling this story is by taking ownership of my own experience. A part of me would love to be a spokesperson, an ambassador, a secret ghost scribe for the collective. But there’s a certain genuine nature that gets lost in translation with denouncing the first-hand perspective. And, after 17 days at sea, it’s clearer than ever before that taking ownership for our gifts, our faults, and our overall energy is what makes a collective successful. And fun. 

During our passage from Hawaii to French Polynesia, we were both bashed and blessed. There were days of tumultuous swells that turned our insides into an akin sea of confusion. Bodies rolled, contents tumbled, all food except saltine crackers was unappetizing. But, there were also days of silky smooth cruising, fresh catch, and surreal elemental existence. As with most journeys, we got it all. The polarity between bashing and blessing served a profound purpose of perspective. And since we were all in it together— no escaping the tight confines of our floating footprint— we inevitably bore witness to each other’s struggles, applied endurance, and adaptation. 

I’m not sure if bearing witness or being witnessed is more satisfying, but both are necessary parts of the equation. There’s something precious about both ends of the spectrum. Bearing witness, you see the true colors and hidden facets of your fellow mates that only surface in unprecedented situations. Being witnessed, the parts of us that shine through become validated and recognized, perhaps even anchored as a part of who we are. And, if it’s not a part of us we want to perpetuate, our fellow mates can serve as clear reflections and (hopefully) support systems for the shedding of said undesirable traits. 

This was a part of my journey, at least— a voyage out to sea and into me. With the reflection of five absolutely top-notch, fantastic human beings around me, I’ve arrived at our destination brimming with gratitude and stabilized by a pentacle of connection points. For, through the gamut of bashing and bean-bag-life blessing, the connection points were what pulled the very best parts of me out into the open.

Now that we’ve moored up and the ocean’s commotion is subdued by lagoon sanctity, a whole new chapter begins. We’ve successfully transported Wild Thing, you’re vessel of fun, to it’s destined South Pacific playground. After 17 days at sea, I can attest to this boat’s life-enhancing abilities. Legitimate gourmet meals are churned out of the galley on the daily. Life-long connections are created. Sunsets and surf seshs and the gifts of pure elemental bliss are bestowed. Dreams are revealed, and before you know it, they’re realized. 

So, we’re here. We’ve arrived. Yet, we all know there’s no ultimate arrival— the voyage just keeps unfurling as we ho’onalu (go with the flow). 

Now it’s your turn. I know there’s a lot that might make it seem like a stretch, but all you have to do is say “yes” and then go with that flow. Your own unique journey is an important tributary to the greater collective co-creation. Just like each and every crew member aboard Wild Thing for the passage was a critical component for cohesion, success and ridiculous amounts of fun. 

It’s official. The opportunity of a lifetime awaits. The vast horizon of the ocean calls and there’s a place set at the community table with your name on it. I promise, with a little bit of stoke and blind trust, you’ll be led to the timeless destination of a lifetime. 

A special shout-out to Brian and Kerstin for welcoming us into their home, their nest, their manifestation of an impeccable life existence. While I’m happy to take ownership for the gratitude I feel, I know I can speak for all of us with a massive mahalo for their generosity and epic exemplifications of pushing life’s boundaries by way of fearless voyaging.