Conference quark::human_relations-v1

    I know what I want to say, but whether I can verbalize it is another
    question:  here goes.
    
    First of all, this question is of interest to me partly because
    I am a person who generally needs a great deal of space, probably
    more than most people.  And secondly because I love sailing more
    than any activity I've ever done, well *almost* (-;.
    
    I, like Suzanne in .1, believe you don't have to have physical
    separation to give someone the space they need.  For me, part of it is
    just knowing someone and being totally comfortable with them. One of
    the most stressful things I know of is spending a long period of time
    with someone you don't know all that well, worrying about inadvertantly
    offending them with something you say, always being on guard.  On the
    other hand, being with someone who doesn't make you squirm when the
    conversation lapses for a long pause, someone with whom you are totally
    at ease, is quite relaxing, at least to me.  Lee, I think you covered
    rule number 1 when you indicated you wouldn't just go off to sea with
    someone till you had "tested the waters" so to speak by spending time
    with the person and even going on extended sailing trips. 
    
    Now, I'm about to start theorizing because I've never spent a long time
    cooped up on a boat with anyone.  But I have sailed for years. I hardly
    remember a time when there wasn't *SOMETHING* that needed doing to the
    boat.  It's not like you just sit there and look at each other for days
    on end.  The squall you mentioned would be a real adventure for the two
    of you to share, and what a feeling to come through it unscathed!!!  I
    daresay there wouldn't be a boring moment, that's for sure!  It just
    seems to me that there would be plenty of time to spend, if not
    physically alone, at least mentally alone while the other person is
    taking care of the literally hundreds of duties that have to be
    performed on a boat. 
    
    Like I said, I've never done this, so what I'm saying is just
    speculation.  But with the right two people and with the proper
    planning I don't see why a relationship couldn't flourish under
    those circumstances, and emerge from the adventure stronger than
    ever because of the intense experiences that were shared.
    
    							Pat 

    Being a sailor, you probably already read "Cruising World" magazine,
    but if not, check it out.  They often have articles by and about
    people who take extended cruises.  Often these are more on a nuts
    and bolts theme, but some offer advice on how to handle people
    relations in the confines of a boat.  Also, through the magazine
    you might be able to correspond with others on this topic.
    
    Also, you might want to read a couple of books by William F. Buckley,
    who has done a couple of trans-Atlantic trips.  (One of them is
    "Airborne" and I don't remember the other title.)  I found them to
    be enjoyable reading and he does touch on relationships among the
    crew members.
    
    Good luck with your dream - I hope it can become a reality for you.
    
    Bruce

    Back in the early '70s, when I was working on Beacon Hill and dreaming
    of chucking it all and sailing around the world on my twelve foot
    sloop, a converted North Sea sailing trawler put into Boston Harbor
    and word went round that it was manned by a floating commune on
    its way to the South Pacific.  I went down with a friend at lunchtime
    to chat them up at the dockside and upon showing serious interest
    was invited back for a communal supper.
    
    Well, aside from the fact that their idea of organic, macrobiotic
    rations would have caused a mutiny on Old Ironsides, I quickly realized
    that, no way, could I ever spend any length of time at sea with
    these people.  They were altogether too serious.  They all ate together
    in one big mess (non-salts read dining room) in what had been the
    fish hold.  They slept in an assortment of separate cabins with
    their SOs (I don't think they were called that then, but it was
    a definite male/female pairing that implied "we only need each other").
    
    At that time in my life I was a rather exuberant type who tended
    to shuffle along with a Chaplineque gait whilst audibly diddling Irish 
    tunes.  They probably would have fed me to the fishes before we'd
    passed Provincetown.
    
    Needless to say, I did not sign articles, but within the year I
    had left my job and moved to Washington D.C., where I read in the
    newspapers of the fate of the floating commune.  They had made it
    as far as the Carolinas or thereabouts when they just couldn't get
    along together anymore and they all split up.  The vessel was the
    "Tangaroa".  Maybe if I had gone with them, I could have lightened
    them up a bit, but I doubt it.
    
    A long voyage together on a small boat can be a lot of work, both
    in sailing the boat, and doing the dishes, and taking the head apart
    when it backs up, but if there isn't a fair ration of fun it can
    get pretty grim in the long haul.  Choose your mates well.
     

Hi Lee.  it's about six years later since your dream in .0 about sailing.
Are you feeling closer to that retire-in-ten goal ?  I'm just curious.

/Eric