The Sailing Story I Never Told My Parents

On Keeping Promises and Navigating Danger

There’s a tried-and-true maxim among liveaboard sailors, the ones who have chosen the adventurous, nomadic lifestyle of the sea: You can commit to a date or a time, but never both.

We weren’t liveaboard sailors, but we enjoyed several multi-day sailing vacations cruising among the Channel Islands off the coast of Southern California. Talk about an exciting lifestyle! From isolated coves to bustling harbors, from fog to sunshine, from dolphins to whale encounters—we loved all of it.

Okay, I admit I’m lying. I’m terrified of fog. Fog while sailing is not fun.

It Sounded So Romantic

We had agreed to meet friends on a specific day at a specific time so Roger could perform their vow renewal ceremony aboard the boat. But even romance isn’t a good enough reason to disregard the maxim.

We were on a nine-day cruise, anchored that day in Avalon Harbor so we’d have a shorter sail to Long Beach. The route was familiar, the day was sunny, and the ocean so smooth that I took a rare shower while Roger manned the helm—rare because we only had hot water while the engine was running.

But as I climbed out of the cabin, my stomach dropped: a wall of fog lay between us and our destination. How bad would it be?

Right-of-Way? No Way!

The answer came all too soon—very bad. Have I mentioned that Long Beach is one of the busiest harbors in the world? Huge container ships cut off their engines miles out to coast in through the relatively narrow harbor opening, usually at a sharp angle. Smaller ships (think 36 feet compared to 1,000 feet) NEVER have the right-of-way. In addition, two different ferries came and went through the harbor entrance on their way to and from Catalina Island.

As if that weren’t enough, our GPS screen was a cluttered mess. Besides our track from Catalina, it was covered with markers for buoys, channels, anchorages, and restricted areas.

An Unidentified Glow

I stood at the bow, straining my eyes to see the red and green lights that mark the sides of the harbor entrance. “Red, right, returning,” I chanted to myself, meaning the red light had to be on our right as we entered the harbor.

But as we glided in, another light became visible ahead of us and slightly to the right. This one was yellow and it was growing brighter—and bigger. And it was high up. What was it?

“Roger, hard to port!” I screamed. That light wasn’t just one light; it was lots of lights on lots of levels—we were directly in the path of a Carnival Cruise ship.

I’m breathing hard just thinking back on that surreal scene. I couldn’t tell you exactly how close we came to the ship, but it wasn’t good.

Our Ordeal Wasn’t Over Yet

By the time my breathing settled down that day, we were lost in the harbor. The messy GPS screen was nearly impossible to read, and it wasn’t until I spotted a green light on my right that I realized we’d turned a complete circle and were heading back out of the harbor.

Running back to the helm, I pointed out the green light to Roger and explained what must have happened. Circling back again, we threaded our way into the harbor and—at last—found the anchorage we were looking for next to one of the oil islands inside the harbor. (For another story about that same island, check out this post: https://www.juliergreenwalt.com/post/the-time-i-didn-t-trust-the-anchor-or-the-captain.)

The next day during the vows renewal, we didn’t breathe a word of our close call to our friends. It wasn’t their fault we’d made a foolhardy promise. The ceremony was special, and soon after lunch we headed back to Catalina to enjoy the rest of our cruise.

Navigating Life

Maybe you’ve never played chicken with a cruise ship, but you’ve probably had moments when you weren’t sure you could trust your own perspective to navigate. Whether it’s an overly committed calendar, a promise you weren’t sure you could keep, or decisions that have to be made, let humility and teamwork triumph over pride—listen to the One who sees what you can’t.

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you. Psalm 32:8

Ever made a well-meaning promise you later wished you hadn’t? How did it turn out? Share in the comments!