The Other Side of Fear - Part 2
Jim and Laura Heading out for a sail - 1978
“Courage is not the absence of fear, but the capacity to act despite our fears.”
- John McCain
The day my high school boyfriend, Jim, and I nearly drowned and the first time I felt deep, raw fear, was sunny and warm and promised to be a beautiful summer day. We were headed to Pine Lake with my Dad’s sailboat for an afternoon of sailing. The boat was small, 13 feet, with no cabin. It was a fun orange and white and sat on its trailer ready for the day. I had on a red and white striped tank top, and flip flops, my bathing suit underneath in case we had a chance to swim. Jim came to pick me up and get final instructions from my Dad regarding “the Silver Fox” his 13 foot pride and joy. Jim had done some sailing through boy scouts and felt confident enough for my Dad to let him take the boat out without him. I knew very little about sailing and trusted that the man in my life wouldn’t let me down.
As we slid the Silver Fox off the trailer and into the water the sunlight bounced off the Lake and warmed my skin. It was a small Lake where you could see the shore on all sides and it was surrounded by trees giving the Lake gusty but strong enough winds to sail. It was a beautiful day to sail and I was excited. We took off our clothes and sat on the deck in our swim suits to take full advantage of the sun. We tossed the life preservers to the front of the boat where they lay in a heap as we were 17 and too cool to wear them. Our cooler was placed on the seats and just as we were about to leave Jim took the car keys and tied them to the mast. When I gave him an inquiring look he chuckled and said “Just in Case”. I laughed too and we headed out. The day on the Lake was as beautiful as we had anticipated and there was a light wind, just enough to move our little sailboat from one end of the Lake to the other like a dolphin feeling his way through the gentle waves. Our chatting was interspersed with an occasional kiss and cuddle as we enjoyed each other’s company and the silence of the sail. It was a perfect day for our young love. After stopping briefly for a picnic lunch we began to notice the sky darken a bit and what looked like storm clouds moving in. It surprised us since just an hour before it had been such a beautific day. Jim explained that it looked like a squall was moving in. The wind quite suddenly died and as we sat stagnate in the water I looked around only to notice that all of the other boats had gone in. Having no motor on our little boat we would have to paddle in if we wanted to get out of the Lake in time for the squall. I suggested this to Jim but he chuckled and said “No need, we’ll just ride the first winds of the storm in and be in before the storm hits.” Although my common sense told me this didn’t sound like a good plan, my love for Jim made me trust his every word. So I sat, more than a little anxious, and watched the sky darken. Quite suddenly that first wind of the storm hit and instead of riding it in, the small sailboat went right over. Before I could think to scream out, the boat was completely on its side and we were in the water.
The waves grew in size and I watched as all of our belongings, clothes, cooler, food, cushions, life preservers floated away from the boat. In my frantic state I was able to grab one of the orange life preservers and tuck it under my arms to stay afloat. Jim was clinging to the boat trying to right it in the storm that boiled around us. The sky like night, the waves 3-4 feet high, the winds howling around us, we bobbed up and down as I tried to take stock of our situation. Overcome by the sudden drastic change in weather I heard in the distance Jim calling to me through the howling winds. It seems I was standing on the sail in the water making it impossible for him to right the boat. As I moved, the mast of the boat sank deeper and before we knew it the boat was totally upside down making it even more difficult to right. Jim was a strong swimmer, a lifeguard, but my own swimming skills were suspect. My panic reached a fever pitch as water poured into my mouth and I could barely see Jim through the rain. A quick scan of the lake gave me little hope as we bobbed up and down in the waves. But wait — was I hallucinating or was that a motorboat with two heroes aboard coming to our aide? They yelled for us to swim over to their boat. I quickly complied but Jim would not leave the boat, fear of telling my father that he had lost his boat overcoming any need to save himself. With much effort I was able to climb aboard the motorboat tossing in the waves. They explained that there was one other boat they needed to help and yelled to Jim that they would return to check on him. We didn’t go far when we came upon a father and son team with a sailboat the size of ours. The boat was being tossed around but it was upright, the sail neatly pulled down and strapped to the mast. Both father and son were in the water with life preservers on hanging on to the side of the boat. When my heroes yelled to them asking if they needed assistance, the father yelled back that no, they were fine, just riding the squall out. Ah, I thought to myself, so that’s what you are supposed to do. We returned to Jim and found him still trying to right the boat in the strong winds blowing around him. This time we didn’t leave him but watched and waited as the squall blew through. Ten minutes later the winds stopped, the sun came out and you would have never known we had just experienced one of the most traumatic times of my life. I thanked my heroes, jumped back into the water and joined Jim just as he was able to right the Silver Fox. We climbed aboard, soaked to the skin and shivering with no towels or clothes to warm us. Neither of us said a word as we sailed as close to shore as we could get. There was no discussion as to whether we would continue to sail that afternoon. Neither of us could get back to shore fast enough.
Jim asked me if I could swim the rest of the way to shore and back the car into the Lake so we could get the boat out of the water. At that moment we both looked at each other and then at the mast. There, tied to the mast, were the car keys, the only belongings of ours that were still in the boat. For the first time since the storm we laughed.
I swam to shore and within a half hour we had the boat back on its trailer and were headed home. The ride home was quiet, me thinking I had nearly lost my life and Jim thinking he had nearly lost his girlfriend’s Dad’s boat. We never went sailing again.
For many years I tried to overcome my fear of boats. Although I still loved the thought of sailing my body thought otherwise. Every time I would try to get into a sailboat my heart would race and I would back into the cabin in fear and feel a full blown panic attack coming. I couldn’t control my body’s response even though my mind really wanted to go sailing. For the first time in my life I understood panic attacks. This was a problem since Pop loved sailing. Even in a canoe I would be fine as long as I felt I was totally in control but if anything unexpected happened, no matter how slight, I could feel the panic rise in my throat. One day Grandpa gave us his 23 foot sailboat to use. We would try to take you boys out and I finally got to the point where I would not go into full panic mode but I still did not enjoy myself.
Then, thirty years after the accident, a most unexpected thing happened. Since we lived on the San Francisco Bay your Pop talked often about wanting a bigger sailboat but we both knew #1 we couldn’t afford it and #2 we probably wouldn’t use it much since I was still having a hard time enjoying sailing. Friends of ours had just purchased a 28 foot Hunter and invited us over to see it. As I walked through the cabin I turned to Jon and said, “This is going to be our boat.” For the first time both my mind and my body felt excited to go sailing again. Three years later our friends sold us that boat when they upgraded and we have been sailing ever since.
I don’t know what changed. I don’t know why my body quite suddenly decided it was time to get over that particular trauma. But it did and from that day on my love for the water intensified. Not only did I take up sailing but I took up outrigger canoeing and have spent many hours on the San Francisco Bay in both calm and wild waters. Either in my one man or steering the 45 foot long six man outriggers - the wilder the waters the better. I get an adrenaline rush when I am in that state of barely being in control. It took 30 years but my panic attacks disappeared like steam over a cup of coffee, never to return.