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The Voyages of "Galatea"- Stories, songs, poems and photos

Vessel Name: Galatea
25 December 2016
25 December 2016
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25 December 2016

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16 December 2016

Motion Commotion (Motion...Come...Ocean!)

When I was a child, my worst nightmare was a strange and horrible creature that chased me in the darkness. I could never make out the form of this terrifying beast but it frightened me so badly I was unable to move. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't move my legs to run and I was frozen in a [...]

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25 December 2016
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25 December 2016
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Motion Commotion (Motion...Come...Ocean!)

16 December 2016
When I was a child, my worst nightmare was a strange and horrible creature that chased me in the darkness. I could never make out the form of this terrifying beast but it frightened me so badly I was unable to move. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't move my legs to run and I was frozen in a suspended state of animation .
Normally, I screamed and woke myself up. Mom came running to see what was the matter and she held me closely. "It was just a dream, just a dream", she would say as she rocked me back and forth in her arms. Sometimes, she would sing.
Last week, I lived my worst nightmare. It played out to the bitter end and I, myself, was my worst enemy. Caught in five to ten foot wind waves which tossed us back and forth, east and west, we were caught in the aftermath of a hurricane.
My husband I studied the weather pattern before we left Brookings, Oregon. Calm seas were forecasted. In fact, we worried about having no wind at all! Contrary to our expectations we were caught in the tail end of the storm. "Galatea", our 40 foot, "Island Packet", was agitated in the Northwest Pacific washing machine for hours.
This was not my battle. It was the Lord's. I surrendered myself up to a loving God who would teach me something extraordinary after such a struggle. Two hours after battling the waves, I was a heap of useless baggage doubled up on the sofa in our salon.
Weeks prior to our journey, I prayed I would not get sea sick. It was essential that I be of sound mind and body to assist my husband. We had to take , "Galatea" down the far reaches of the Pacific North West coastline to Long Beach. Our dream was to sail to far and distant ports. My hope was to write about our travels but as soon as we left the getty, I felt that familiar queasiness voyagers dread.
I was brought to my knees.
"Do not fear, the Lord is with you, do not anxiously look about you, I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." I prayed. I petitioned.
"The Lord will perfect that which concerns you," was His answer.
This promise failed to relieve my fears. I felt completely flawed for my mission in life. Try as I could, I was numb with cold and unable to pull myself up. My stomach was empty but food was the last thing on my mind. Instead, I reached into the medicine cabinet and found , "Dramamine". I swore I wouldn't take it but I did.
I got no relief from the chills and intestinal spasms . I fell asleep! My husband was left with the full responsibility to Captain the boat through wicked and dangerous sea conditions. This was a real nightmare.
There is a curious mystery in suffering. I reached a point of calm, sweet carelessness . I laughed at my own ridiculous state and thought of my mother. Here was a woman who endured pain and suffering equal to that of Job. I saw her smile. She rocked me. I heard her sing again. It is one of our favorites:
"Build yourself a strong box, fashion each part with care. When it's strong as your hand can make it, put all your troubles there . Hide all thoughts of your failures, and each bitter cup that you quaff. Lock all your heartaches in it, then sit on the lid and laugh. Sit on the lid, sit on the lid, sit on the lid and laugh..." (Bertha Adams Backus)
Mom never openly prayed out loud. I'm sure she silently petitioned God to relieve her of her pain and her suffering. All she did was smile. Toward the end of her days she sat strangely still under the hand of the Lord. Every faculty of her mind and will and heart were subdued. A quietness of eternity settled down into her whole being. She no longer spoke. There were no tears or crying out, "Why hast thou forsaken me?"
I was at that very point. My imagination did not conjure up visions of Mike and I sailing across the Atlantic. Thoughts were silent. Choices were annihilated. I had no voice. Like my mother, I resigned myself to let the circumstances be what they may. I wanted God's will and His alone. I felt completely assured that God was making everything in the universe, good or bad, past or present, work together for its good.
There is a bitter sweet blessedness of being absolutely conquered. When I lost my own strength, wisdom, plans and desires, suddenly, the sea calmed. The turbulent waters of my soul as well as the ocean around me mirrored the heavens above with a glassy stillness.
Mike struggled nearly 12 hours without making any headway South. He turned West and headed for the coast. We entered Humboldt Bay and I was able to take the helm.
My mother's spirit whispered to me in those dark hours. She was the most courageous person I have ever known. Her sufferings were unparalleled but she never was discouraged.
While I was sleeping, Mike tangled the spare halyard around the jib. Later that day, I was called upon to climb the mast and remedy the situation. Guess what? Mike doesn't like heights. When I was needed, I was there to help.
We left Humboldt the next day. I faced possible motion sickness but the ocean was peaceful. Lightheaded and with very little appetite, my stomach was still tender but, I remembered the rest of that song mom and I sang:
"Build yourself a strong box, fashion each part with care. When it's strong as your hand can make it, put all your troubles there. Tell no one its contents. Never its secrets share. When you've dropped in your care and worry, keep them forever there. Hide them from sight so completely, the world will never dream half. Fasten the strong box securely, then sit on the lid and laugh."
My mother lived that poem. Honest to gosh she was right there with me singing. She repeated the chorus and music and off it went into a sea chanty. Up jumped six pirates who danced on their strong boxes and laughed heartily as I sang the tune. There was mom, sitting on the lap of one of the pirates!



An amazing thing happened. I reached down to loosen the strap of my motion relief band and it wasn't there. Without drugs, herbal or perscription remedies , I finally got my sea legs !
The answer was singing. If you want a scientific reason for my cure it must be that I can't remember the verses to a poem and put them to music and feel seasick at the same time. I overloaded my mind with sensory input. Singing took the place of Dramamaine and Scopalamine and the Relief band.
Scripture says, "Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say, rejoice..." Take that verse literally. Sing your way through everything. Mom did. Her secret and God's promise was finally revealed. He has perfected what concerned me. See how beautiful my new legs are?
I imagined mother there with me sitting on the lap of another crusty old pirate. He was an old sea salt whom I dearly loved... my father. Tears streamed down my face with joy and we sang,
"Sit on the lid and laugh, sit on the lid and laugh. Lock all your troubles in it and sit on the lid and laugh.
My mother passed away while I was on that journey . She gave me one last gift. I can sing my way through any journey and she will always be there with me. Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me!

Kathleen Ericson
(3-8-1919 - 9-12-2014)
Galatea's Photos - Main
Stories, poems, songs and methods of swash buckling cruising challenges.
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Created 24 December 2016
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Created 16 December 2016

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24 December 2016
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16 December 2016
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