No Wind

Last Tuesday, the Wind took a vacation.  It left town and turned the anchorages into glass and the Drake Channel into a place where you swim.  Winds that normally are 12-20 knots (add a few because of the imperfection of weather predicting)…now have been reduced to 2-4 over the last several days.  Not enough wind to fill out a sail let alone push your boat across the water.  It’s not the normal thing for this time of year.  April is typically a good month with steady winds, not so strong that make for enjoyable sailing.

The bottom side of the dinghy, thanks to a mirror sea

A meteorologist friend once explained how the wind is created.  Imagine the earth is filled with columns of air.  When the air in one column heats up from the sun, it rises.  As that happens, the cooler air at the bottom of the column next door rushes in to fill the space in the first column.  That movement is the wind.  Say the warming column is over land on the shore.  As it rises then the cooler air from the sea moves in, creating that sea breeze.  So, an area that has high pressure means that there is no heating-rising-rushing in by the neighbor.   Wind is not being formed because the columns in a larger area are all acting in the same way.  We’ve had nearly a week of a high pressure area, accompanied by no clouds, and the columns are all behaving in the same way.  No wind.

The wind can stop anywhere on this old planet of ours.  In the polar regions…out in the desert…in the middle of the ocean.  I’ve read several stories of sailors being caught in the doldrums where the sea becomes “glass” for days.  Thousands of miles from land, bobbing in the water and moving only as fast as a current might take you, if you’re lucky enough to be in an ocean’s stream.  Recall scenes from the films:  Moby Dick, Mutiny on the Bounty, Pi, All is Lost.

So we’re waiting for the wind to return.  It feels like we’re holding our breath.  There is a silence about it all.  None of the familiar noises of water slapping the hull, or of white caps splashing playfully.  And you notice different things…you notice the speed boats or the dinghies more as they race by, rocking your boat…. You notice the bothersome flies and mosquitos, even when you’re away from the dock and on a mooring ball.  There’s no wind to shoo them away.  

In the Old Testament, the “breath” of God – nephesh – wind, is the source of life.   There was a time in the story of Israel when life wasn’t so good and the people felt abandoned by God.  God felt abandoned by the people, too.  And there was a prophet in those days, Ezekiel by name, who had a dream.  His dream took him wandering into the desert and being shown a valley of bones, dry bones, dried up life.  And the question God asks Ezekiel in the dream was:  can these bones live?  Old Ezekiel notices a wisp of wind, spiraling up, low to the ground, and wonders:  Can these bones live?   A prophet wandering in the desert…a people waiting for some sign that all is not lost.  And God tells the prophet to speak the word of hope, new life, God’s power and the wind will return.  It’s a great story worth remembering.

There’s not much to do about the wind.  It will return when it returns.  Hopefully in the next couple of days.  We are “doing” little things while we wait.  The list of chores hasn’t ended.   We’re reflecting on this turn of events.  And, we’ve even motored around the corner to an anchorage at Trellis Bay to meet some sailing friends for a night.    

This past season has created a windless world for me in one way.  Living on a boat has exposed my aging.  It’s a little harder to keep my balance.  I’ve had several accidents, slipping, falling.  I cut a heel on the front edge of a step that took a long time to recover.   I’ve become clear that I am gluten intolerant and now watch my diet as never before.  No more bread for me.  And then there was the visit from Admiral K(idney) Stone.  I’ve lost weight, seen my blood sugar numbers plunge, feel good in lots of ways.  But I also don’t have the strength.  I feel like I’m waiting for a new normal to emerge.   It will.  And when it gets clear, I’m confident that the wind will return, the energy will pick up, and my sails will fill fully once more.

So, this morning, Trellis Bay is glass.  I looked down and saw our anchor: we had quietly flopped around during the night – a new experience!  

There are a few clouds now – small ones – off in the distance.  Maybe…  Waiting for the wind that will (eventually, soon?) return from its vacation.  When it does, the sails will fill, the boats will move, life will pick up.  And all will be well enough again.

Fair winds (but stiff ones, please)

Calm seas (but not glass, please)

Dave

PS – Motoring around is one way to cheat a bit, create a breeze (sort of), push a little air into your face.  But it only lasts as long as your fuel!