Building the hard dodger for Tranquility is a project made possible by a chain of events that stretches several months in the past. A key element to this transformation was the dinghy, also knows as auxiliary boat or tender.

Looking at this older picture of Tranquility you can notice that the plastic Walker Bay dinghy sat on top of the companionway, in a very secure spot, but making it impossible to protect the cockpit and companionway, and forcing the crew to duck considerably to get in and out. On small boats like the Columbia 29 the stowage of dinghies is not a trivial matter, as the auxiliary boat is an indispensable tool on any cruising vessel and the space on deck is limited.

The 8 feet long Walker Bay is a dependable and solid dinghy, and I grew accustomed to its carrying capacity and good rowing abilities. I was not ready to renounce such luxury. The solution to this problem appeared to be a nesting dinghy, an auxiliary boat that is comprised of two parts that can be nested one inside the other, reducing its length when stowed. It was basically impossible to find a nesting dinghy where I was on the Atlantic Coast of Panama. Building one became the only option.

I built that boat out of fiberglass and nida-core panels while in a secluded marina surrounded by jungle, a project that took a lot of time, money and energy, but that unlocked the possibility to both have a decent size dinghy (8 feet in length) and a future dodger. As I was building it from scratch I decided to make it also a sailing dinghy, putting together pieces that people almost spontaneously donated.

I have never shared the details of the building in this blog and I will not do it now. Those months spent in the Panamanian jungle coincide with a very difficult time for me.

As many key moments in one’s personal life those times are colored by often extremes emotional tones that progress on their own course. Kate and I were finding more and more difficult to work as a team in life and the dinghy project became for me both a refuge and a statement of identity.

What I will do instead is telling a story that came from that time. It does not describe technically the building process nor the chronology of the events, but it gives an idea of the motives and the discoveries that happened inside and around me while building a small boat.

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THIS IS THE STORY OF ARCTIC TERN

Arctic Tern is a little boat.

She was born near Nombre de Dios in Panama, under a roof between two containers, surrounded by a 15 meter mast and assorted junk coming from boats in advance state of abandon.

Kind souls donated the elements that put together gave her wings: A fiberglass tube that a Spanish Explorer had no use for, a beautiful sail with the emblem of a horse offered by an Argentinian Sailing Teacher, a dagger board forged by a Polish Engineer in the sultry womb of a steel ship, a weird looking rudder from the nautical collection of an Australian Firefighter.

Giving birth to Arctic Tern was a lot of suffering and pain. It of course cost a lot of money to buy the materials, a lot of sweat in transporting them, and to put them together.

Arctic Tern was also the last nail in the coffin of a failing relationship. She gave her creator spiritual and physical wounds, broken hands and even a chemical burn in one eye from a drop of resin. Many tools broke and clothes were destroyed in the process.

But it was also fun. In those long weeks that stretched into months the creator was busy overcoming design and construction problems, in endless discussions with curious standbyers, crossing all the boundaries from feeling hopeless and stupid to be elated and proud.

When Arctic Tern was born she was ugly.

It is better said she was not symmetrical and she was on the heavy side, definitely sturdy.

“Ogni scarrafo’ è bello a mamma soia” say people from Naples. Every cockroach looks beautiful to its mom.

She was immediately loved. Not just by the creator who built her from stem-to-stern, but from the neighbors who saw the long process unfolding, both the enthusiasts and the naysayers.

It was a fool’s idea, with no logic whatsoever and it could not be stopped. The mothership Tranquility was ready to let go of Walker Bay, the reliable companion of many landing and explorations, and she welcomed the weird looking boat made of two halves.

The launch was a long awaited moment.

When Arctic Tern touched the water she started flying. She is very good at it.

The creator sat in her lap and he was very afraid of going out in anything blowing stronger than a mild breeze, doubting the abilities of his creature and his own’s as sailor.

Arctic Tern was born ready.

Her flat belly dances on the surface of the ocean. She almost takes off when her two wings start to act in harmony in a lively wind.

The big one opens catching the breath of the sky, the small one points down in the deep ocean gripping invisible streams.

The two wings balance each other and so the dance is possible.

The creator took Arctic Tern out for more and more dances, sitting in her lap while she was doing what boats do.

Through Arctic Tern the creator is learning to fly, and when he is with her out In the ocean, the real teachers come to see them.

Ospreys, terns, pelicans, the graceful gliding vultures. The masters of Air.

They look down to watch Arctic Tern and the creator progress.

They show them how to dance in the currents, how to float about.

They are always vigilant as they glide undisturbed.

The creator down below feels very nervous, scared of the big waves, afraid of breaking a bone or a wing of Artic Tern.

They see each other and a feeling of communion is established. They are the same even if they fly for different purposes.

They are all part of the Great Dance, a dance that follows different rhythms and that contains them all.

THE GREAT DANCE

The creator of Arctic Tern learned that in those very moments on the surface of the ocean by the rocky headland all the freedom lanes become one.

How simple it was just to be out there doing their part!

He understood that we share the dance with everybody even those who try to be small and invisible, and that everything, even his sturdy little vessel and not just himself, is temporary.

It doesn’t matter if you are on a tiny sailboat on the surface of the ocean, a petrel swooping on the crest of a wave or if you are a bluefin tuna just below it.

You are just doing your part, so why worry?

It was then that he felt bizarre thoughts invading his head, as if they were coming from the outside. He felt a question brewing.

What if the Mighty Tuna comes and swallows us all? The Slim Sardine asked in the Creator’s mind.

After few second of perplexity he welcomed this alien consciousness as a guest.

What Can you do about it? Not a whole lot, Slim Sardine. Yes, you can swim away from the Mighty Tuna mouth and look for shelter in tube-like swirling spirals, with family and friends, in your community of sardines.

But when the The Mighty Tuna is coming for you… What you can really do Slim Sardine is keep swimming, keep rowing, keep sailing.

You’re doing it good or doing it bad, but you’re doing it, as long as you won’t stop dancing.

Be a little patient and keep swimming. keep rowing, keep sailing.

It is as simple as that.

The same is true for me, thought the Creator. My hands will hurt, my eyes will be dry and red, my buttocks will be sore and sun and dry air will crack my lips and tangle my hair.

And when the storm comes I might drown. What can I do about it?

Keep swimming keep rowing, keep sailing.

The creator’s eyes turned wet by the upwelling of emotions. Salty jewels from the body poured back into the ocean.

The Heron taught him how to be patient, that good positioning and one precise strike is worth much more than a lot of fussing around. He heard the Heron’s thought merging with his own’s.

He felt this idea was beautiful and true, so he decided to address the Mighty Tuna itself…

Do you Mighty Tuna worry about the little sardines you’re swallowing whole? You follow your hunger Mighty Tuna.

But look behind your back, the Savage Shark may be coming soon for you. So what you can really do is to keep swimming, keep rowing, keep sailing.

After all, even if the shark may never find you, nothing’s going to change you are still going to disappear. Maybe you’re good. Maybe you swim fast because you are mighty. But if you’re in the wrong place then you get swallowed.

You may think you have to leave the dance floor because there are more important or more urgent things do. Serious business.

You are running and you are doing a good job, and maybe you are so good that the shark is going to miss you, and you’re not going to bite the hook. You know better than that. You’re faster than the spear. You’re the best. Nothing can touch you.

You are just fooling yourself Mighty Tuna, you’re going to end up digested by something. Microbes, bacterias, mushrooms, something is going to chew you to bits.

And even when you are the Savage Shark you are not safe. Maybe you will bite a hook on a fishing line. Maybe it’s the Killer Whale. Maybe it’s a disease, or some plastic in your guts. It doesn’t matter.

Swimming, rowing, sailing… you skim the surface and participate in the Big Dance.

Everybody’s dancing. Birds in the sky, people holding cocktails, monkeys in the jungle.

So again Mighty Tuna, Savage Shark or Slim Sardine. It doesn’t matter what you do or what you think.

Keep swimming.

Keep rowing.

Keep sailing, and keep dancing.

Escaping death just for one day wont’ grant you a special treatment. Just do what you want. Somebody is going to swallow you and there are no medicines, Science can’t stop that.

Nothing can cure you from the disease, because there is no disease.

There’s enough beauty in a single note of the music and in each single step of the Great Dance to keep you raptured forever. Every day is a gift, and for every bad day you can be happy that you don’t have to live it again.

Keep swimming, and stretch your wings

Keep rowing, and learn

Keep sailing and dance with me.

The music keeps playing. You want change. Everybody is still dancing and you can decide to do whatever you like because this is not going to affect the dance, it keeps going with or without you

You can be in the dance or out of the dance.

It doesn’t matter what you do, all you have left is to keep swimming, keep (G)rowing, keep sailing.

The Slim Sardine, the Mighty Tuna and the Savage Shark said goodbye to Arctic Tern and the creator and swayed back into the Great Dance.

The creator realized he just lectured a bunch of fishes and a heron, who could care less about the lecture as she was catching dinner. For some reason it didn’t feel as strange as it sounds.

The creator eased the line that controlled Arctic Tern’s air wing to catch the following breeze while he raised the water wing. He felt the acceleration radiating through her solid belly as they bounced on the surface of the ocean.

He understood that the logics he told himself and others behind that building endeavor were nothing but wishy washy rationales encircling a deeper motivation. He acted and then needed to justify his actions.

He was doing his thing, taking part in the Great Dance.

Keep swimming, keep rowing, keep sailing.