It’s funny how it feels sometimes to get what you say you want. Like all of what you say you want. Like not just the fun parts of what you say you want, but also the unsaid scary parts of what you say you want.

Like how I say I can’t wait to get to Guatemala. And how little patience I have left for sitting here waiting in Portobelo. But how, when we just got an amazing weather window for a straight shot to our next destination (650 nm and 5.5 days away) how I don’t feel excited. I feel scared. Not just scared but terrified. Full of nervous energy about the upcoming passage.

I realize I live on a boat – that’s the part I love. Traveling with your whole house is awesome. Coastal cruising is okay. But sailing over blue water hundreds of miles – or even 50’s of miles – from land just isn’t for me and I ain’t afraid to say it. Which would be totally fine, except I’m about to *do* it. Ugg.

I once read a comment in a sailor’s forum from a guy who was hanging up his bow lines for good: “Sailing is either completely boring or terrifying” he protested. “Huh” I thought. Now I know how he feels. But here I go.

I’ve also read time and again that it’s the men who love the sailing and the women who love the anchorages. We definitely fall into that stereotype and I appreciate the honesty of other partners – mostly women – who share their discomfort on the seas with me. (I also respect and applaud the skill, interest and love of all the Skipperettes out on the water who love being there – that’s just not me)

Or, maybe I’m just throwing a tantrum . . . feeling all the things that make up the whole picture of what it means to be a cruiser. Sure, not every sailor is “terrified” of multi-day, blue-water crossings – some even love them – but all honest sailors I know clearly understand the risks of what we undertake: once you’re out there, there ain’t no pulling over and getting off the ride. And, I suppose we all know the payoffs, too: going where there is no one to bail you out has meant we get to experience some of this planet’s most scenic wild places.

A fellow Skipperette, who’s an admittedly proud fair-weather sailor, recently reminded me of the old adage “there are old sailors and bold sailors, but there are no old, bold sailors”. Well, I’m a proud coastal-cruising, anchorage-loving, fair-weather, day sailor . . . who is about to stretch her white knuckles over five and a half days of (putting good energy out there) fair winds, following seas, new sails, good fuel and a beautiful new steering column.

I can’t wait until it’s over.