Most Things Considered with Ben

Ed. Note: This post is written by Ben Capelin, who has been sailing with us for the last month. In addition to being an HMI Semester 23 alumnus, Ben is the son of Doug and Beverly Capelin who, in addition to being great friends, are also the founders of Deer Hill Expeditions. Deer Hill is the summer wilderness program in southwestern Colorado where Christopher and Molly first met in 1992. It has been our great pleasure to share this time with Ben.

Greetings. This is Most Things Considered, with Ben Capelin.

I am happy and proud to say that I had the audacity and great fortune to join the Barnes crew on s/v Sila for the past few weeks. After many months of circling each other warily, deliberating permutations, and toying with logistics, I flew into Copenhagen on October 19th, boarded a train that carried me through the thick blackness of the Danish night, and rendezvoused with their family in a small city on the westernmost tip of Sjaeland–Kalundborg.

Arrival at the Kalundborg train station

The ensuing weeks were beautiful, expansive, and inspiring. Traveling on a sailboat was always a dream of mine that was frustrated by my undeniable landlubberness that came as a result of being bred in Colorado. Nevertheless, here we were sailing in–mostly–divine weather along exquisite coastlines and vast, landless seas that are steeped in centuries of history. I learned quickly to resist the instinctual temptation to grok the incomprehensible grandeur and unassuming space before me. Otherwise, it would have been conceivable to go mad as we sailed through the Kiel Canal in Germany, through the English Channel and past the Dover Cliffs, relished a few days on Jersey, a few more days on the Isle de Brehat, the quaint little town of Paimpol, then finally meandered our way up the Guindy River to Tréguier. (Congratulations to the Barnes' safe and stylish return after 2.5 years of traveling!).

Loving it in the English Channel.

Sila holding her own in the entry lock of the Kiel Canal.

Yet this heart-stopping, I-have-to-pinch-myself-somtimes, plunge into the ocean world is only a small fraction of the pudding. Perhaps the most rewarding part of this time was connecting with old friends–the notorious Barnes clan! It was a particularly meaningful reunion because it was the first time I had been able to spend an extended period of time with these hooligans despite a lifetime of isolated exposures. I enjoyed countless hours in the cockpit, or at Sila's helm, as we sailed from place to place talking, joking, pondering, and sharing with all members of the family. I am so appreciative of Molly's and Christopher's insightful wisdom and wit. I say the same for Jack's and Porter's stunning openness and knowledge of their world; although, their moments of perspicacity are tempered by periods of fantastical and frenzied antics.Their family's collective eagerness to teach and share everything from boat repair to the Taj Mahal is heartwarming in and of itself.

 Raising the bar in Brugges, Belgium

Jack looking smug after the French Coast Guard spotted him on deck and promptly boarded Sila a few minutes later.

 The aforementioned Hooligans.

The English Channel

I feel compelled to divulge a few thoughts that stand out for me as I view the time in hindsight. I first want to note how inspiring and refreshing it was to be the recipient of such earnest generosity. From the second I found them waiting for me at the train station in Kalundborg, I felt welcome and as if I were part of the family fabric. They put much energy into ensuring that everything from food to potential seasickness complications were accounted for. With a "how to" model in my back pocket, I am excited to emulate their example.

 Porter in the zone during a blind knot-tying test at the Jersey Maritime Museum.

Further, I am also struck by the the attitude with which they seem to treat their journey. As I perceive it, it is a skillful balance between being very much respectfully "separate" from the rest of the world in the little sovereign nation that is Sila, and at the same moment moving through and in the world, aware and considerate without their backs turned. 

 At the Isle d' Brehat, the Barnes family logged their 29,000th mile!

 Album cover: "StoneHaus." This is an old tidal mill on Brehat that was built in the 15th century.

Whoops.

Nevertheless, before I mislead you into thinking that I am sitting here doe-eyed and drooling a puddle of unctuous comments, let me clarify that it was not all fun and games. I suffered ignominiously at the hands of ruthless "Oh, Hell" cardsharks, and the same at the hands of Porter in Viking Chess. Further, I sustained a steady barrage of impacts to head and body from the undesirable combination of a 6'5" frame, possible clumsiness, and tiny living quarters; conversely, I was abandoned occasionally for bits of time when I had to wander alone through Shire-like countrysides in France and Jersey. Last but not least, a number of nights passed in uncontrollable trepidation being on watch in the cool winds of the English Channel with no one for company except Molly or Christopher, the stars, and a full moon. Foul.

 A typical "Oh Hell!" scene just before pandemonium ensues. I will note that after a month of diligent struggle, on my very last night on Sila, the skies opened up and I stepped onto the podium wearing a gold medal around my neck. (Ed Note: We attempted, in vain, to suggest that we "allowed" Ben to win on his final night. The reality? Sweet victory was all his!)

Omaha Beach. I traveled to Arromanches and visited Gold, Juno, and Omaha beaches. These were incredible, moving, and heart-wrenching places to say the least.

Thank you, Barnes family, for an incredible adventure. It is particularly powerful for me considering that this wonderful, variegated, and momentous trip occurs as I begin to feel strong enough to venture outside the sometimes suffocatingly cloistered life to which I have become inured during the recovery from a severe brain injury. The best to you in the rest of your travels. -Ben

Returning to Treguier after over 29000 miles of sailing!

 Au revoir!