stepping into the Unknown

In 2017 I joined an all women's crew to sail the most exposed and challenging coast of Vancouver Island. From the small fishing town of Port McNeill to the small surf town of Tofino, we spent 14 days sailing in real West Coast conditions.

If you’re familiar with this part of the coast you’ll know that that route takes you through the infamous Nahwitti Bar, past the northernmost point Cape Scott, and around the Brooks Peninsula and Estevan Point that regularly record hurricane-force winds. Not to mention big swells, hidden reefs, massive tides and strong currents.

I was terrified. Of everything.

I was afraid of falling overboard into freezing cold water. That I’d break the boat somehow. That my crew would get hurt. I was afraid of living on a 40’ boat with 10 women. Of hitting a submerged log that could punch a hole in the hull. That the anchor would come loose at night. Of F’ing up. Of the other ladies not liking me. The list was so long that I almost didn’t go.

Up until that point I’d been a sailor who was better at making sandwiches than actually sailing. You could count on me for a great lunch and not to be on deck. A series of past experiences (that time I hit a boat in a marina, the other time I wrapped the sail incorrectly and ripped a hole in it during a wind storm) had made me afraid of messing up again. So I got used to doing what I knew: cleaning the deck, watching for logs, making lunch.

The risk of staying safe

Sometimes it’s easier to look back than go forward. The known is behind you. You know how to manage. Fit in. Hold back. Rise up. You know what’s there and who you are. You know where you’ve messed up and how to stay in your place.

The known can feel like a safe harbour. The truth is… the known isn’t as safe and easy as you may think.

After a year of mastering the art of sandwich making on a sailboat the known was:

Confidence sucking. Every time I got on the boat I felt like a loser.

Limiting. I was less helpful as a crew member and, at times, a liability because they couldn’t count on me.

Full of doubt. All the things I didn’t know had me second-guessing all the time.

Stressful. Fear, doubt and loser-feelings didn’t make for a good time. What was the point of the trip in the first place?

Coaching questions

Pause. Take a breath and ask yourself:

Where in your life are you being limited by a “safe harbour?”

That place you hang out that you’re so familiar with. You know how to be, see, do and feel to get through. In my work, I often hear these responses: a job, relationship, leadership style, or way of being that others know and rely on. Entrepreneurship especially is full of safe harbours that keep dreams small.

Some more coaching questions:

What’s your safe harbour?

Is it really keeping you safe?

What is it holding you back from?

Stepping into the unknown

On that big trip, I was on helm (in charge of steering) when we rounded Cape Scott. The seas were big 3-meter swells, the wind strong. As we approached, I was in charge of turning the boat at the crucial right time. My hair was whipping hard across my face, my feet braced, and just like that, I did it. We rounded the Cape, filled the sails and surfed home.  

While the known is behind you, the unknown is in front of you. It asks you to face into the wind. To get up on deck. To enter uncharted waters.

And —

To trust in something you can’t see. So you can be who you are capable of becoming.

What direction will you go?