Today I was a casualty.

Although my last sailing experience was less than stellar, I decided a year was a long enough wait to try again. I mean, this time the boat would be bigger and we'd be taking Dramamine before we got on the boat, right?? I really thought things were going well, as 1/2 hour into the trip I was feeling great and not having any trouble whatsoever with the swells and the rocking of the boat. But I guess this was the case with a lot of people. As more and more people pushed their way to the railing to empty their stomachs, I realized that I was starting to feel a bit queasy myself. Then I started to feel really queasy. To be honest, I think I was feeling sick as much because everyone else was getting sick as because of the constant, irregular rocking.

So, I didn't get to fish, as I spent the remainder of the trip on my ass, focusing on various things ... the land, my shoes, composing this entry ... whatever would distract me from thinking about throwing up. I feel better knowing that even the captain admitted that the seas were rough.

And that's when I was referred to as a casualty.

Three things I learned:
1) Don't puke into the wind. Nate the Fishing Guide made sure to tell everyone this little tip first thing this morning, along with a lot of other useful advice that I missed because he was mumbling and turned away from me. Thank god I didn't learn this one through personal experience. Although I'm not sure it was the best decision, as a few people admitted that they felt better afterwards, I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

2) "Never turn your back on the ocean. She can get real mean." A direct quote from Nate the Fishing Guide.

3) I now understand why dogs like to stick their heads out the window when they're riding in cars. They get motion-sickness. It could be that the second Dramamine had kicked in by this time, or it could have been my anticipation that we were going back, but I felt immeasurably better on the return trip. Personally, I think it was because the breeze was no breeze any longer, but a cutting wind that went through every layer I had on, and it was friggin' cold. The wind and the opportunity to think of a source of physical discomfort other than my stomach made it possible to make it back to the harbor without losing the PopTarts I had had for breakfast.

And that was my sailing trip for 2001.

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