This morning I crossed paths with a Nelson Mandela quote that said, “There is no passion to be found playing small – in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.” After three multi-day passages that have pushed us to our limits, we have begun to question if the unearthing of our individual capability is worth the immense discomfort.
Our passage from Luperon, Dominican Republic to Port Antonio, Jamaica was, again relentlessly uncomfortable, and shrouded in fear. The projected fears that we allowed others to impose on us sunk in and were on replay in our heads:
“Give Haiti a wide berth.”
“Be careful going by Haiti.”
“Watch out for Haitian pirates.”
We timed our sail so that we would pass the closest point of Haiti during daylight hours. In our closest approach to land, three wooden canoe like boats, each with three men on board, were triangulating our boat.
In the distance we saw a massive ship beginning to approach. In all honesty, the voice of fear took over and I said to myself, “Dear God it’s the mother ship!” I thought we are about to be boarded and pillaged by Haitian pirates.
Enveloped in fear, we decided to wave to the small sailing skiff that was closest to see what kind of response we got in return. Big white toothy grins spread across the men’s’ faces as they waved back at us. If they are pirates, they sure are friendly ones. Shortly after, the “mother ship” was in close enough range to be able to identify it as a U.S. Coast Guard (USCG) Warship. Minutes later we were hailed on the radio by the USCG as it inquired about our crew details and intended destination.
We felt a sense of safety wash over us and by the time we were off the radio, the Haitian fishing boats were all heading back to shore. We had informed the USCG that we were a bit on edge about this passage due to the current state of affairs in Haiti. They responded with, “USCG will be standing by on 16.” An hour or so before sunset, a USCG surveillance aircraft flew directly over our boat. It’s always a comfort to know someone knows you’re out there with the means to help.
As I had said in our Instagram post, we don’t assume that Haitian people are violent criminals. What I do know is that desperate circumstances lead to equally desperate measures. Violence is not always about greed, power, and control; sometimes it’s born out of a need to survive and, before we mount that high horse of superiority with the thought of, “I would never…” We are all capable and culpable of violent acts to varying degrees when circumstances present themselves.
In terms of circumstances of Haitian people, based on what I’ve read, let me paint you a picture that will only scratch the surface of suffering. For Americans, picture your country being slightly smaller than the size of Maryland, surrounded by an ocean, and populated with about 6 million more people. In the past year, you have just experienced a presidential assassination and crippling earthquake. Currently, if you survive the kidnap, rape, and murder by the overrunning gangs; you then get to navigate how to obtain food and fresh water that has been blockaded by these same gangs. It has been reported that the UN estimates almost half of the Haitian population is experiencing starvation. To compound this, a recent cholera outbreak is overwhelming hospitals with dwindling resources (News Source: PBS).
So when it comes to Haitian “pirates,” while I feel nearly paralyzed by the fear, I understand how a passing sailing vessel may seem like a respite of hope for a suffering family. Through this veil of terror, we can see the humanity. We are not blind to our privilege and fortune. And though we were not faced with being boarded by pirates; the mere thought pushes us to face how we show up when presented with the choice to judge and fear or empathize and love. My yoga teacher, Padma, repeatedly said “The opposite of fear is not courage; the opposite of fear is love.” I have never come even close to understanding that until this experience.
