rudderless

Vonk

My friend John sent me this picture a few days ago and it has jogged all sorts of memories. It was early in the morning, in Boston Harbor- I love the city and the sunrise behind him. We were packed into zero-degree sleeping bags on the stern of an open pulling boat. A big storm was coming in. John was not amused. I can almost hear the voice of the NOAA weather operator on his radio. So long ago, and not so long at all.

I wonder if everyone has a John Vonk in their life. A perfect stranger, then a friend, who had a hand in truly shaping the trajectory of my future. I met John Vonk eight years ago, my first day of work in Everglades City, not far from here. He was going out on course, leading a bunch of preteens into mosquito country in a canoe. We often hijacked the school sailboat and tried to short-tack our way to Chokoloskee. We had a grand few months, and then the season ended. The “What, now?” began. He suggested I come to Boston for a WFR class and Watch-O training (Outward Bound sailing instructor training). I had no idea what those acronyms meant. No earthly idea. He even called me an acronym- ERL, “Earl,” my initials. In Boston we froze out butts off on a pulling boat, rode out the worst weather he’d seen as a captain, and then he flew off to his future in Seattle and left me to discover my own. My own John- his friend, and now my husband.

Were it not for John Vonk, I’d never have gone to Boston, not in a million years. He planted the seed, met me at the door, and then left me to my own devices on that tiny island. He invited my John for a beer, encouraged me to dig a little deeper. He was the backstage manager, all along.

I just noticed that he shares a birthday with my littlest girl.