“Well,” said Pooh, “what I like best,” and then he had to stop and think. Because although eating honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn’t know what it was called.
—A. A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh
“Once you have traveled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quietest chambers. The mind can never break off from the journey.” – Pat Conroy
Some say half the fun is in the anticipation. I can certainly see the argument. When it comes to sailing trips and adventures, I find I can usually break the experience into three separate, but surprisingly equal, stages: The Planning, The Trip, and The Memories.
Who among us hasn’t spent hours joyously preoccupied with charts, guidebooks, and websites, penciling out an itinerary for a small-boat trip? And we all know the quiet fulfillment of sorting gear, planning meals, and watching long-range weather forecasts. How about the satisfaction of a complete unloading and repacking of a boat before a trip, making sure everything has a place?
If your planned excursion is on the calendar a year in advance, all the better—that’s more bang for your anticipation buck. Going with friends or other boats only adds exponentially to the excitement, as you meet for coffee and roll out the charts or exchange e-mails with Google Earth images of shallow anchorages attached.
It’s hard, though, to argue that anything can compete with the actual trip—to being there on the water, living in the moment. If imagining a broad-reach across a sparkling bay, or falling asleep in a sunny cockpit at anchor feels good, actually doing it is better still.
Of course, if the trip doesn’t go quite as you’d planned—if what was supposed to be a relaxing milk run turns into a hair-raising adventure or an exhausting slog—then a case could be made that the eventual fuzzy memories are superior to the worry or drudgery of the real-time event. Unfortunately, scientists tell us bad memories stick better than good ones. This surprises me, as I’ve often blamed amnesia for my ending up in the same questionable situations on the water.
While the good memories might be harder to hold on to, they are the ultimate prize—the currency of a life well-lived. And where your best moments on the water might be fleeting, you are free to recall them for the rest of your days. As the playwright Tennessee Williams noted, “Life is all memory except for the one present moment that goes by so quick you can hardly catch it going.”