a reflection on gravity

Doing anything running with the wind in a large following sea is an excercise in balance, strength and patience. Everything takes longer than it should. I timed a couple of mundane tasks. It took me 11 minutes to brush my teeth. Just getting from the cockpit to the V-berth is like running the gauntlet. You never know which way the boat will pitch, and to what degree. You may reach for a handhold and miss. Nothing is soft to land on.

Carrying out a task while running with stacked waves on a small sailboat is, I imagine, the opposite of working in outer space. In space, there is no gravity. When you place something somewhere (self included), it stays there, regardless of where it is. On this boat, gravity is dynamic and chaotic; it is constantly and randomly changing in magnitude and direction. When you place something down on a sailboat, it will shortly be someplace else far less convenient, often doing damage to the object, the boat or yourself. If you slip or lose your balance, your body will quickly find which way is down for the moment.

So when I set out to make a cup of coffee during my night watch, it took me 39 minutes. After filling the tea kettle, I discovered the stove was out of fuel. Refueling the stove canisters involves soaking the wick with fuel alcohol. The wick only accepts the smallest flux of fuel; rejected fuel escapes everywhere, a situation you want to avoid in the cabin of a sailboat. But first, I had a tea kettle to find a secure place for. I lashed it to the sink. Next, I removed the alcohol from its cubby. With a turkey baster, I patiently delivered fuel to the canister. Easy enough when gravity is constant. But to compound things, the turkey baster doesn't fit in the canister, so I pressed it tightly against the can opening and maintained a vacuum with the bulb while I inverted the can. Whew, it worked. No spillage. Fifteen minutes later, I believe there is enough fuel to boil my kettle. Next, I lashed the kettle to the stove with a clever web of wire my father has crafted. This process continued, every item I grabbed I had to secure, every two minutes I lost my footing and got tossed across the cabin.

In the end, it was a damn fine cup of coffee, enjoyed while sailing through a moonlit sea, the spray from following waves leaving phosphorescence in the cockpit.