The Red In My Father’s Beard

It was sunrise in early November, 2021. I knew we were close to Grand Bahama Island because of the GPS tracking but actually seen it in the distance as the sun rose after six days at sea was indescribable. I had been at the helm for the last 2 hours while the other two sailors were sleeping. We had departed from Annapolis six days earlier, battled a storm of 40 kn of wind, successfully crossed the Gulfstream near Cape Hatteras, and we were approaching the end of our journey. Out of nowhere, I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace and happiness. There was a gentle breeze blowing from the northeast, and the seas were mild. The breeze was warm and the sun felt gentle on my skin. I was flooded with a sense of accomplishment and joy as I have only experienced while on the water. The quiet lapping of the water against the hull of the boat, the gentle rocking and the solitude added to the peace and contentment that spilled over into my mind. It was one of those moments that is experienced only a few times in one’s life. Total peace of mind, joy and happiness.

Over the past few years I have wondered why is it that I am so drawn to the sea? I was born in Aklavik, Northwest Territories.

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/north/aklavik-born-doctor-receives-prestigious-award-1.2886942

At the age of two we moved south to Edmonton where the closest ocean was over a thousand miles away. I have fond memories of my childhood building model sailing boats with my father. My childhood bedroom was adorned with posters of old sailing vessels with captions such as “Adventure rides the waves”. I’ve been obsessed the ocean and sailing for as long as I can remember. The first thing I did when I started my practice in surgery in 1985 was to buy a sailboat even before I bought a house. What is it about the ocean that drives a seemingly sensible and rational person to be so captivated?

In 2002, I was sailing with Gerry Docherty in the double-handed Lake Ontario 300 race. The race goes from Oakville to Niagara and then down the length of the lake to main duck Island and then back to Oakville. The race is about 300 miles and typically takes about three days. Initially, the winds were mild but within a few hours, a storm blew in from the east. This was the same direction as we were heading. There were huge waves and we had two reefs in the mainsail and the smallest jib flying. In spite of this, the winds were knocking us over and we were getting hammered by the huge waves which would throw gallons of water at us in the cockpit while we were trying to hang on to the wheel. We were sopping wet and cold. It was pure misery. The inside of the boat was full of water and our bilge pump was continually pumping water out the side of the boat. It wasn’t safe to go inside for fear of getting injured because it was like being in a blender as the seas were so rough. The weather was like this for three days and three nights. It wasn’t possible to sleep and we had to keep ourselves tied onto the boat so as not to go overboard. After three days of this, I have to admit that I was starting to hallucinate. Near the end of the race, I remember seeing the lights of a freighter ship and thinking it was an island. When I could not find the island on the GPS, the ship blew his horn to warn me not to get any closer. When we finally got back to the Oakville Yacht Squadron, someone was there to greet us and tied us up to the dock. He said “you are the only ones to finish the race. Everybody else quit!” The shocking part about this story is that it never even crossed our minds that quitting was an option. There had been no discussions to the effect like “maybe this wasn’t such a good idea” or “why don’t we turn around and go back?”

I did a little bit of research on Internet. My name Hagen is a Scandinavian name. My father was a Scot from Dunfermline, which is near Edinburgh in Scotland. It turns out that in the 8th-12th century, the Vikings sailed to Scotland and when they landed they would rape and pillage as vikings were prone to do. Some settled in the country and remained.

https://historica.fandom.com/wiki/Viking_invasions_of_Scotland.

Vikings had absolutely no fear of the open water and this is why they dominated the seas for so long. It is a genetic quality that the vikings possessed when other more sensible civilizations would avoid the water to prevent certain death. Some people have the genetic quality having no fear of heights. Put me at the top of the ladder and I am certain to have an anxiety attack. Put me on a sailboat in the middle of a storm and I am at peace. I suspect that genetically I am a descendent from the Vikings. This would explain why I am so drawn to the ocean. Thank goodness I’ve lost the rape and pillaging gene (at least after my teenage years………)

My father was drawn to the water as well. He died in an unfortunate accident when he was 52 years old. I was 19 years old. He spent his final summer camping in a tent with my mother on the water’s edge of Lake Wabumun sailing club. https://wabamunsailingclub.com/. Every day he would drive an hour into Edmonton to go to work and drive an hour to get back to the lake at the end of the day. My mother and father would spend the evenings sailing or just hanging out at the water’s edge. My father told me that these were some of the happiest moments of their lives. They spent the entire summer at the sailing club in a tent and sailing, all the while soaking up the pure happiness and contentment that being on the water brings.

My father had jet black hair but when he grew a beard there was red. The Vikings were known for their flaming red hair which added to their prowess. Everyone has heard of Eric the red, one of the more famous Vikings. He was called this because of the red in his hair and beard. I was always drawn to the red in my father’s beard and I think of this as the genetic connection to explain my lack of fear of water and oceans, and the pure happiness that being on the water brings.

My plan was to spend 2 Weeks in January in the Bahamas on my sailing vessel Ileana. It has been resting patiently at the Grand Bahama yacht club waiting for my return. I was to arrive on January 2, 2022 and sail to Nassau where I would pick up my wife and we were planning on sailing to the Exumas. Unfortunately, Omicron has thrown a wrench into my plans. The case numbers are reaching record levels. Currently I am Chief of Staff and I recommended all physicians not to go away and holidays for fear they may not be able to make it back and we will be short of physicians to run the hospital. I felt it was only prudent I cancel my plans……

I have been Chief of Staff for the past 1 1/2 years. Originally, I agreed to do this as a temporary manoeuvre in August 2020 so as to allow the Board of Directors to find someone to take on the permanent role. When the second and third wave of covid hit, this was not the time to start looking for a new chief so I continued in the role. I found that I thoroughly enjoy working as chief of staff. The rest of the doctors at the hospital would look to me to find answers to problems for which there were no easy solutions. I did my best to maintain calmness in the face of a sea of chaos. I enjoyed working with the uncertainty and the challenges of the constantly changing covid fueled environment while maintaining the highest possible quality of medical care in the hospital. The Chief of Staff is a Board of Directors appointment and candidates need to go through a formal process to get selected. This involves three interviews and presentations. After much discussion, amongst themselves, The Board of Directors chose someone else…… To say I was disappointed is a huge understatement. Although they conceded that I have been doing a great job, they were concerned about my age and felt someone younger and more digitally inclined would be better suited to be Chief of Staff in North America’s first fully digital hospital….. As I climbed over the hill of disappointment, when I reached the top, I was able to reflect upon the red in my father’s beard. I reflected upon the day I saw Grand Bahama Island in the sunrise. I reflected upon the peace and contentment I feel on my boat. I realize now that the Board of Directors has handed me the most perfect gift. The new chief takes over on April 1, 2022 and as if by some coincidence, that is exactly the same day my flight takes off to Nassau…..