The Sea Sick Sailor

I suppose it's only fitting that I follow up a post full of self-love and adoration, with one only slightly infringing on my vanity. Yes, as hard to believe as it is, even people as wonderful as ME have their blunderous moments.

So Friday morning rolls around, and I get a call from my good buddy Frederico. Fred is an interesting character. He's one of those guys that sort of "marches to his own drummer." He eats healthier than anyone I know, has interesting philosophies on life, and is currently attempting to live forever (or at least long enough to allow medicine to develop a cure for dying). These days, he lives on a little sailboat (go figure).

Anyways, he calls me and invites me to go sailing. I take a look outside...beautiful and sunny. I start thinking about all the work I was planning on doing, but every thought is interrupted by visions of me enjoying the crisp ocean breeze, soaring with southerly wind flow, enjoying a nice cold beer. Suffice to say, I packed up and headed to the Marina to meet Fred.

I got there and we started preparing the boat. Fred, being the planner that he is, bought some Dramamine to prevent motion and sea sickness. Despite my confidence in the comfort of the seas, I reluctantly decided to take some. The box says "maximum dosage for 24 hours: 2 tablets." Naturally, I took three.

I was so excited to set sail, I quickly got in character and was calling out ship commands as we were preparing.

Fred: "Arun, do you wanna go ahead and raise the mast?"
Me: "RAISING THE MAST CAPTAIN!!!"
Fred: "Uhhh Ok, and when we get going, you're gonna need to take care of the jibb"
Me: "EI EI! MANNING THE JIBB!"

After struggling to start the engine for about ten minutes (it's an OLD boat) we finally got going out of the marina. Ahh Yes! About 15 minutes later, we were sailing with the winds, crisp ocean air, feet kicked up, beer in hand...but something wasn't right.

The ocean was angry this day! (and by angry, I mean mildly annoyed). The boat began rocking violently! (and by rocking violently, I mean rolling calmly with the small ocean wake). The combination began wreaking havoc on my senses.

Soon, my sailing enthusiasm began to wane as I my head began spinning.

Frederico: "Oooh Man! You don't look so hot!"
Me: "I don't feel so hot either. Those pills are useless!"
Fred: "They're working wonders for me!"
Me (now leaning forward with my head down); "I hate sailing!"
Fred: "Ah common man! Don't worry...we only have three more hours to go!"

Sweet Mother of Mary...THREE MORE HOURS! For the next two hours, I was curled up in the fetal position in the corner of the boat while Frederico steered us. Every dip was head spinning. Luckily, the pill kept me from getting nauseous, but lifting my head up straight was impossible. To top it off, the "crisp ocean breeze" was now a frigid wind. I was not a happy camper.

Finally, when we were getting close to Harbor Village, my sickness started to dissipate, but my earlier passion for sailing was not renewed.

Fred: "I'm sailing down to the Coronado Islands on Sunday if you wanna go."

I said nothing and just looked at him incredulously.

Fred: "Common Arun! I'll even let you MAN THE JIBB!"
Me (very bitterly): "Ahh, Man your own Damn Jibb!"

I should've seen this coming. I've never had a great relationship with ocean. It's made me sick a few times before, it's battered me into the sand body boarding, it's swept me out to sea while surfing, it's flipped me upside down kayaking, and thrown me against a cave snorkeling.

Oh well. I live for getting out of my comfort zone, so this won't be the last time I suffer the wrath of the ocean...I HAVE always wanted to jet ski!

Ain't no ocean gonna hold me down!