Scott’s Log: July 28th, 2025
If you read some of the early posts about this trip, I am sure you could sense the excitement from some of the crew members. Everyone I talked to was excited for me about the “adventure” and there was a healthy amount of jealousy and envy to go around my friend group and even those I met on various docks when they heard about the trip. It makes for quite a high. But the reality of leaving our lives on the dock with the virtual waves goodbye from friends and families was harder than I expected. I didn’t immediately recognize the sadness I was feeling because of the distractions ever present in leading a crew and boat into the less known areas of North America and Greenland.
We were on our way on what might be the longest single leg of the trip, from Portland Maine to Nuuk Greenland. Casting the lines from the dock, sorting our watch schedules, and seeing Portland fade into the backdrop was exciting. We were regaling each other with stories each funnier than the last. The adventure was off to a great start. And then, in the middle of the second day, black smoke was pouring from our exhaust. Although, the least likely part of our engine, as described by the John Deere manual, failed, Sam gave us a rapid diagnosis, and we had a spare.
Even with the rapid repair, the reality of venturing way off the grid is intimidating and you could feel that for the first time in the mood of the crew. This was the first outside factor that forced us to change plans, and it wouldn’t be the last. Thankfully this delay came with some great unexpected benefits. First, we had time near shore to let the boat prove it was up to the task, but we also got to Explore Lake Bras d’Or in Nova Scotia which was magnificent. Then, we got to meet up with another FPB and reconnect with old friends and make some new ones.
This pattern repeated itself with a complete Nav system crash in Newfoundland. Although we had spares and work arounds, not having the primary Nav System was a problem. This was bad but I never took the time to check in with the crew to see how they were feeling. I could, though, see it on their faces and hear it in their questions and the tone of their voices. I never stopped to check in with myself, I just settled down and powered through the problem until it was working again. In retrospect I was annoyed, worried and concerned for the trip. This was a real low point, but as in life, because we persevered, we were rewarded with the easiest passage across the Labrador Sea that perhaps anyone has ever had. I have seen lakes with bigger waves. We then met people we met in Nuuk, because of our delays, that we would not have met who gave us great pointers on exploring the Greenland coast North of Nuuk. That led to some of the most stunning views imaginable, none of which might have happened had we not been delayed.
So, this is how it goes, life on the water is much like at home. There are highs and there are lows. Pushing through the lows and not getting overwhelmed by them is what makes life work. Perhaps the lows make the highs easier to appreciate. Thankfully, we can share all of it with our family and friends. I can’t even imagine how hard this was for people before the ubiquitous communication afforded to us by Starlink.
As it turns out, I wasn’t unmotivated; I was just stuck in my head, wallowing in some of the lows as I was reflecting on the things that had gone wrong. As I mentioned, I don’t spend a lot of time in this realm, and it took some time to identify. My grand adventure has had an adverse current of a knot or two, slowing me down just long enough remember that it doesn’t matter where your life takes you, it’s still going to be life.
Now, you’ll have to excuse me. I have to go do something. I’m already feeling better.
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