It was pouring rain. The nasty weather was coming in from the West. I could see the dark black clouds rolling towards the marina. Every few minutes, there would be a flash of lightning, followed by the roar of thunder. I was questioning the wisdom of taking my surgical colleagues for evening sail. Should something happen, and the hospital found itself short of surgeons as a result, the hospital CEO would never forgive me…… I consulted the weather radar map again. The ugly weather was supposed to pass through by 7 PM. This would still give us 1 or 2 hours of evening sailing if we were lucky.
My cell phone rang. “Are we stills going out in this storm?” It was one of the more sensible surgeons on the line.
“I am hoping this will pass in the next hour. If not, we will do what sailors do best. Sit around the table and tell sailing stories and drink.” I answered confidently.
10 of the 14 surgeons turned up. They arrived sopping wet from the deluge pelting down from the angry skies. Despite being retired from the hospital for the past 18 months, they still trusted me….. Were they concerned that I had spent the past winter on my boat in the south vegetating in the hot Caribbean sun? Had my judgement softened somewhat from too much ocean and not enough intellectual stimulation? The surgeons’ trust in me was as solid as a rock in a stormy sea, unaffected by the time I had spent away from the hospital and any potential change in my judgement……..
Doing what sailors do best…..drinking, eating and telling sailing stories….
The weather radar was accurate and the storm blew through by 7 PM. After untying the lines, we cast off. The breeze was light at around 10 knots. I hoisted the mainsail and set the jib. When the wind caught the sails, the surgeons could feel the power of the wind as the boat heeled and sliced through the waters. The gentle motion of the boat was comforting as we headed out on the lake.
Leaving the dock after the storm
As we were sailing into the lake, I explained that we would need to make some tough decisions. One option would be to turn around after it became dark and dock the boat at my slip. We would have dinner at the restaurant and then trudge back to our lives as surgeons. The other option involved bearing due east for 120 miles. We could take the mast off in Oswega and head down the Erie Canal to Albany. We could put the mast back up and then motor to New York City. From there we could head south to the Caribbean. Sure we are in the middle of hurricane season, but I am getting better at dodging storms as evidenced by tonight’s sailing adventure.
Making some tough decisions……
It was a glorious night. The sunset was awe-inspiring. Though the sailboat was hardly in motion, as the windspeed decreased. It provided ample opportunity to converse and contemplate on our good fortune. The sun slowly set, and the sky turned a deep orange. The rain had cleared, and a cooler breeze blew across the deck, lifting our spirits. It was easy to relax and take in the setting’s beauty, the peaceful motion of the boat, and the sound of waves lapping against the hull.
We felt a connection to something greater than ourselves, a sense of belonging, as if we were part of a larger whole. We could almost feel the emotions of our colleagues, a mixture of relief and excitement. The future was bright, for all of us. A sense of peace and harmony replaced our worries of the day. It reminded us of the importance of friendship, of the value of making time for ourselves, and of the joy of sharing a moment of beauty with good friends.
As darkness settled in and hunger dictated our next move, we sailed back to the dock. We finished our drinks and made our way to the restaurant. It had been a great night. No matter how far away we were from the hospital, we were still a team. We had shared another experience. We were connected by a bond of friendship, trust, and respect.
