In Doldrums…
C.E. Grundler
I've never been there, not yet at least, but when I was young I read about a region of calm winds, centered slightly north of the equator, known as the Doldrums, where the two belts of trade winds meet and neutralize one another. And while the Hudson River is nowhere near the equator, when I was ten years old and heading out to circle the globe in my eleven foot Snark, (at that age, everything is to scale, including ambition,) the Hudson Doldrums could put a halt to my voyage as effectively as my parents confiscating my centerboard, (their odd but highly effective way of 'grounding' me during the summer.) There I'd sit, glued to the glassy water, set in my fate as surely as the Ancient Mariner.
All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody Sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the Moon.
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
With no wind, my little boat might be trapped for days or weeks under the merciless July sun without making advance. I could run out of RC Cola and Cheez Doodles before ever reaching land-fall, especially if I kept sharing my lunch with the local albatross, (for good luck, of course,) though ultimately if I was adrift for too long or it was getting close to dinner, my parents would send my brother motoring over in the dinghy to tow me in. I don't think they ever realized that I wasn't really looking to be rescued.
For the next twenty years I continued to sail boats that lacked any form of mechanical propulsion. Even when I finally sailed a boat with an outboard on the stern, when the wind left me with an empty sail and no headway, firing up the motor was my absolute last resort. So long as time and safety permitted I'd simply sit, dead in the water. I'd grab a book from the cabin, put my feet up and kick back with that ultimate excuse to relax and go nowhere, my only motion a lazy roll as I drifted with the tide. It was also one of the reasons I preferred to sail alone; if I had any company aboard I'd be met with dismay, frustration or sarcasm.
"This is sailing?"
Actually, yes it is, in the truest sense. To sail is to move in harmony with the waves and the water. Sailing is to take the wind as it comes, to adjust our sails or to simply stare up at them as they hang limp and useless. Sitting in Doldrums, surrounded by that all encompassing stillness, drifting with the flow, lying back and gazing out at the water, scanning for any hint of a breeze stirring the surface… that is, indeed, sailing. Sails may be slack, but winds will return. They always do, and with sailing is an acceptance that there are forces beyond our control.
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