I lied yesterday. Why lie on a blog? I was trying to talk with confidence to help me feel confident. Fake it till you make it. Talk the talk to walk the walk. The truth was - I was not looking forward to avoiding 17 bridges. My true feelings were that I was nervous about being out on the ocean all day. I love that John forces me out of my comfort zone, but that doesn’t always make it easy. He assured me that the wind would not be too strong, the waves would not be too big and that Solitude could handle the ocean. I slept well with those thoughts in my mind. In the morning, I looked at my blog to see if there were any comments. There was one comment: Today is going to be a best day (thanks Jim). That sentence filled me up and banished any residual doubts of my capabilities. We set off bang on schedule, marveling at the huge cruise ship in the bay. As we headed out of the narrow channel the waves got bigger and bigger. They were close together, one after the other. Solitude climbed up the waves and was thrown down the other side. On one wave her bow came down with a slam. By this time I was gripping the guard rail and had Timmy half on my lap. His tail was down and our life jackets seemed like tokens of safety that would not get us through this situation. This is going to be a best day - I repeated the mantra to myself. 17 bridges sounded pretty enticing right now. ‘Don’t worry, this is just the entrance to the ocean- it won’t last long’. I nodded at the words of comfort John offered and continued to repeat my mantra. I held onto Timmy and decided that John was going to have to sail single handed for the whole day. My body felt weak. I silently thanked Hap and Cathy for their recommendation of the best sea sickness tablets (Mercalm) - at least I was not feeling sick. We turned the corner and the waves refused to abate. Solitude was bouncing from side to side, Timmy put his head down and went to sleep, I started counting down the minutes (8 hours, 40 minutes and a few seconds to go). John was still smiling but concentrating- ‘we need to get the sails up’. My head shook involuntary. ‘It will help keep her steady.’ ‘Okay’ I really could not string a sentence together at this point. ‘Come and take the wheel, and I will put the sails up’. I looked at my husband.’I’ll put her on auto-helm and get the sails up’ . I continued to hold on and closed my eyes while John nipped around the boat as if it was on land. Solitude was steadier once the sails were up, and after another fifteen minutes the waves became more manageable. My grip relaxed a little and I started to look around me. The ocean was jet back; dark with a sheen; beautiful but menacing. And then something amazing. I saw something small hovering over the ocean and then fly for about 20 feet before disappearing. Our friend and neighbor, Eric, has an expression for someone with a short attention span:’oh something shiny’. That is exactly how I was - fear melted into curiosity. I kept looking and saw one after the other. For any Harry Potter Fans - they looked like a snitch in Quidditch. Flying fish! Truly amazing. You could see their fins turning like helicopters blades on their sides. If it is not on your bucket list to see flying fish (it wasn’t on mine) , add it now. Before I knew it I was helming Solitude, feeling the waves and staying on course. We maintained about 5 knots for most of the way. The wind was consistent, the air was warm, and we had no rain or high gusts. Yes it was wavy, but not as intense as the beginning and it started to feel predictable, almost soothing as we continued toward Fort Lauderdale. As we approached our destination, I prepared myself for the high waves again, but with determination rather than fear. They never came - we got in smoothly and headed for our marina, where we were guided in and greeted by the welcoming dock master. It certainly was a Best Day Ever.