As I languished in my seasickness on Sunday I saw a post on Facebook by a friend saying God is in the water. My friend is a surfer, she has a closer more personal relationship with the water than we do. When I went back to read her post again to get a better understanding of what she meant, Facebook had removed it from the top of my page and I could not find it again. Eventually the seasickness told me I had been sitting up long enough, I turned the computer off and resumed a horizontal position.
I don’t think God is in the water. My beliefs don’t run that way. And even if they did, I think the water is a peon, just like us. Water is at the mercy of the wind and the gravitational pull of the moon and sun. It is sensitive. It feels the rotation of the earth witch controls its movements.
Water is like a gentle giant, forced to use its mighty power for destruction, in the hands of an evildoer. When it is calm, the waters of the ocean will keep you afloat in a serene weightlessness. When that big bully, the wind, stirs it up, hold on. Water starts throwing its self around, its strength overwhelming and uncontrollable.
We are on day two of being kicked around by the water. The wind is too high to risk sailing the boat to our next harbor, miles away. All we can do is pitch and roll, rock back and forth. The wind has changed direction a little, so we have been able to move Blue Wing to a more favorable shelter in the lee of Levi Island a mile from Governors Harbour. It is calmer here. The water is happier here too.
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