¨"In the end, whatever travels we have undertaken are nothing more than a search for the one place we already know, a place that embraces all our emotions, all our memory."
--Carlos Fuentes, *Distant Relations*
In the Galapagos, I found my home aboard ship, a 90-foot motor sailer named the Angelique, built in 1880. At times the seas were so rough, many of the other 14 passengers were seasick, but after the first day, I was comfortable in motion. I found my balance easily on a tilting deck and enjoyed riding on tip of the bowsprit, feeling the roll of the waves and the rush of the wind. I felt at home on this boat, although I had never sailed before. It was as if I was born to do this.
Since my father died, I have had no one to share my grief with, no one who knew him the way I did, as a father and a friend. The middle sister has declared her hatred for me, no surprise since I have been the object of her unrelenting hostility as long as I can remember. The youngest sister knew him at such a different time, he was a different man from the father I had at her age. And she is beautifully, healingly occupied with the birth of her first child, Sarah Jane Sunshine, who entered this world on September 13th. Welcome, Sarah!
Having no companion in my grief, I embraced risk, seeking company in the unknown. This is the secret reason I took this trip. Having lost my anchor, I no longer had any fear. On a dipping airplane over the Himalayas or a speeding motorbike in Bali, I felt the danger as a rollercoaster thrill. I thought, So what? And even: Yay. Bring on the mystery.
It came to me in the Galapagos, when I was riding the bowsprit over wild seas, climbing 20-foot waves and dropping excitingly down the other side, getting sprayed with sunset seawater: This is the thrill of my life. At that moment, I looked down to see a hammerhead shark swim below me, its 8-foot body and alien head just beneath the surface of the water. In this ancient being I met the mystery at last. I became whole.
The Galapagos are like that, like nowhere else on Earth. When wild animals runflapswim over to see us humans, look us in the eye, ready to play, to connect, it fulfills a dream of childhood promised by all the friendly animal cartoons. It completes our memory of ancient connection when humans and animals shared the earth as equals and respected that relationship.
The best part is I was not alone for this elation. Jonathan saw the hammerhead too. He was by my side sharing the wonder. We could beam at each other and say, "Can you believe it?" Yes! He is the miracle of these strange days.
My father had a great love for animals. I felt his spirit smiling as we sailed through the ultimate animal-lover´s paradise. I thank him every day for leaving me the means to travel.
If travel is a search for the one place we can´t remember - can´t forget, looking for it so we can remember ourselves, I could say that my place is sailing on the ocean. Or maybe that place is travel itself, experiencing the world in motion with my memory as a screen the world flashes on, shows itself, like the diamond scales of a fish. It looks back with the dinosaur eye of a hammerhead shark and slides beneath the surface of mystery again.
