The Worry Whirlpool Rocks the Boat—Even in Our Favorite Harbor

Potato Harbor, Santa Cruz Island

Rounding the headland into Potato Harbor on Santa Cruz Island—it always feels like a homecoming. Potato Harbor is a sweet, secluded spot where you can usually spot a few sea lions, maybe even an otter or two. It’s never crowded with boaters; in fact, we’re usually alone when we drop anchor. We might spot a couple of hikers up on the clifftops, but with no path down, they just enjoy the view from above.

Sailing back from a multi-day trip around California’s Channel Islands, we were grateful to anchor in Potato Harbor for a good night’s rest. We’d made it all the way out to San Miguel, the farthest island from our home slip, but high winds kept us awake most of the night, checking that our anchor wasn’t dragging (that’s a story for another post). Slipping into the familiar quiet waters of Potato Harbor was a relief. In good weather, this was our happy place.

Peaceful Afternoon—or Not

One memorable day trip, we shared the beauty of Potato Harbor with our son Daniel and a few of his friends. After lunch, Roger offered to take the boys exploring in the dinghy. Great! I could relax alone on the sailboat for a while. Handing Roger a walky-talky, I settled down in the cockpit to read.

But as I watched the dinghy disappear around the headland, it occurred to me: What would I do if something happened to them? I couldn’t move the boat by myself—our electric anchor windlass wasn’t working. We'd already planned to use the backs of our strong young guests to haul up the 45-lb anchor plus 100’ of chain. No way could I do it by myself.

I grabbed my walky-talky, but the intervening cliffs already blocked the signal. And there was no cell signal at the island.

The Worry Whirlpool

By the time the guys had been gone an hour, I was fighting panic. I repeatedly tried to hail them with no response. Roger’s favorite motto, “If you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up too much space” only fueled my fears. My imagination went wild with all the dire possibilities. Maybe you’ve been there a time or two.

How can I describe my relief when they came chugging back around the headland? I probably aged 10 years in that hour. And wouldn't you know, Roger was unconcerned even when I explained the danger of our communication blackout—and lack of muscle power.

As the saying goes, “Worrying is like paying interest on a debt you may not owe.” Thankfully, nothing bad happened at Potato Harbor that day. Nothing I imagined came true. Turns out I didn’t owe a debt that day.

Until we ran out of gas two miles from our home slip.

At least we had “triple A of the seas.” And the rain didn’t start until just a few minutes before help arrived.

The Author of Our Story

How often do we let fear write the ending to an unfinished story? The Bible tells us not to worry, but it can be difficult to reframe our thoughts. That’s why Paul went on to explain how to smooth out the worry whirlpool in Philippians 4:8-9:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

That’s the kind of peace no harbor can offer.

Have you ever let the worry whirlpool suck you in, only to discover the danger wasn’t real? I’d love to hear your story in the comments.