As the world withdrew into their homes, seeking refuge from the advancing pandemic, my family and I found ourselves stranded at sea, surrounded by the endless horizon. The ocean, once a symbol of freedom, now felt like a vast and unforgiving barrier, keeping us away from the world we knew. Our boat, once an escape, now felt small and closed in.
The days passed slowly. From afar, we bore witness to the world’s suffering, families separated, lives shattered. The sea, vast and indifferent, kept us apart from it all, offering neither comfort nor escape. And yet, in the quiet of isolation, we found moments to think, to breathe, to absorb the stillness. The steady rhythm of the waves, rising and falling, became our only constant. A lullaby in the face of uncertainty.
Weeks turned into months. We began to understand the ocean in a different way. It kept us away, but it also sustained us. It became both our captor and our savior. The endless waves, the eternal tides, they spoke of something that would endure beyond our time. Something that would outlast the storm we found ourselves in.
In time, we realized that the trials of the pandemic had revealed a simple truth, the strength of the human spirit, the quiet power of connection, and the wisdom that comes from surrendering to the unknown. We laughed when we could, found comfort in each other, and carried on.
This image shows someone swinging from the halyard of a vintage wooden schooner we found at anchorage. It’s a reminder that even in hard times, we seek joy. Even when the world feels small, people find a way to feel alive.
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