Tilting At Windmills

Sailing Patagonia — Part 4

The dingy is tolerating the weight of me and my bags. An old life vest is keeping my big duffel out of the persistent puddle plaguing the bottom of this sad little boat. The Señoret Channel looks immense from this perspective. Crossing it seemed so simple from the deck of the boat. Scale is weird. I know the channel is not even a mile wide right here but the shore isn’t getting any closer. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. My freedom is tied to that land in the distance. I need to get there and then I can walk away.

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Gaslighting

Sailing Patagonia – Part 3

“You can’t leave with those fishermen.”

“You can’t go back with them.”

My stomach and everything it is attached to just made a break for the nearest emergency exit. Surely this hapless old man isn’t attempting to thwart my bid for freedom, for safety. Surely he doesn’t think that I will continue to pilot his boat after he denies me the opportunity to escape it. But then, his reality is not my reality. I failed to make his reality my reality.

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The Sea Hobbits of Patagonia

Sailing Patagonia – Part 2

Viewing the Andes Mountains from sea level is spectacular. The height and scale of these behemoths dwarf all living things by comparison. Clouds fail in their efforts to conceal. Glacier-covered peaks pierce through the layer of gray to sparkle and glisten from above, mirroring the morning sun and tricking the sailor that glides beneath the cloud cover. East appears to be everywhere.

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