A gust of wind and a stinging capsize

(This was an article written by Hussain for the School Magazine on sailing...)

A second seems too small for a gust of wind to breeze by. However, a splendid mixture of spells cast by both the wind and the ever-changing currents can always be seen on the ferociously calm oceans.
Sailing, a sport very often mistook for leisure or one that is physically challenging, is undoubtedly a peaceful game of tactical war. Yes, it involves a lot of muscular activity – rigging the boat, tacking, gybing – however there might be nothing in the world that packs as many life lessons as the activity of sailing. It teaches teamwork, engineering, history, patience, oceanography, ecology…all in one fell swoop.

Although history has predominantly fought wars in colossal ships, I have confined myself only into a small and cozy dinghy. Though the usage of the word ‘small’ might make your minds ponder and leap upon the conclusion that the boat I am discussing about is the size of a bathtub, mastering the techniques to sail need faithful devotion to the sport and most importantly, passion.

The wind dropped too low. Four knots and it was unimaginable that this could even be taking place. Four knots is minimal to even make a sailboat move.

This was the first time ever in my life when I felt the quietness of a very unnoticed fuel yet its necessity at the extreme – wind. Whoosh – onomatopoeic sounds of the waves, a murder of crows- jarring though, abducting the soothing silence, beautifying every second….

Time blows away cordially with the wind, unnoticed, too slow to be taken into account. But its effortless ticking, its noiseless motion, might make a second worth more than any diamond in the world. This variable supernatural force that prevails, its domain – the entire universe – controlling you, me, and everything you can ever imagine – if paired up wisely with, can help you tame the wind until when your boat would end its defiance, your marine toy it would become.

“Aaaaargh!”, I screamed in agony when a swarm of toxic jellyfish stung me. The pain was so very intense. Blackness sprayed over my eyes, blankness stole into my mind.
Gusts of winds skimmed the surface of the sea. Hiking and putting most of my body weight out was extremely important that day. Sudden rampant and continuous – blowing winds of over fifteen knots and within a blink of an eye, idle the water would remain, its stillness perplexing any sailor who underestimated it.

It was also the so called ‘Jellyfish Season’. The faint bluish coat of the ocean was dyed with orange that day. Hundreds and thousands and millions, huge masses of lively orange jellyfish would take no pleasure in abdicating their natural throne to which they were entitled too. Angry and greedy eyes kept looking back at me contemptuously, waiting for an opportunity to experiment their venom. All the sailors, including me, were very afraid of the lethal water that day, so most of us prevented from hiking at all. Big mistake! A huge gust of wind, as mysteriously it had come, struck me and the boat flipped over. As you may have guessed it, my boat had capsized right under a smack of these slimy creatures, and before I could even think of hauling my life-jacket up to blow my whistle ( a whistle is a must on the seas as it can always be handy), the whole of myself felt numb and worthless.

A smack of jellyfish.

I remember myself being drawn out from the water by my coach, who applied vinegar and butter on my skin which was really soothing, and I didn’t sail the rest of the day.
It’s really funny when I narrate this incident, because I have gotten so accustomed to seeing all kinds of marine animals – jellyfish, water snakes, eels, dolphins – that now I think they have accepted my presence and befriended me.

                                                           A whale spotted while sailing.