TRAVEL | ADVENTURE | KAYAKING | BAHAMAS | LIFE LESSONS
Meeting a Man Who Said He Lived His Life Backward
An early life lesson that stuck with me
It was 2001 and I was just 24 years old when my boyfriend and I shipped our tandem kayak over to the Bahamas from Palm Beach, Florida on a cargo ship.
We had already spent about a month kayaking around the Florida Everglades after buying our first kayak ever in the Florida Keys, and pushing it directly into Florida Bay from the beach behind the shop. The temperatures had turned cold on us that winter as it sunk to 0C (32F). Trying to live in a wet environment in those temperatures was definitely not our jam.
After both getting colds and recovering in a campsite where fellow campers lent us their space heater for our tent, we decided that we needed to find ourselves in a better situation. One day we pulled out our chart book and started dreaming about the Bahamas. The promise of hot sun on our skin beckoned us — we just had to figure out how to get there with a 21-foot kayak in tow.
We found a shipping company out of Palm Beach, managed to get ourselves and our kayak there via hitchhiking, put it on the boat, and then flew ourselves over to meet it.
After receiving our kayak, we spent four months in total paddling around the Bahamas, just island hopping and living on the beach. We built fires to cook, we spear fished and we ate coconuts. It was a blissful experience.
I should mention that this was pre- “Survivor”! And we didn’t have a film crew with us to make sure that we didn’t die!
But we had sailors surrounding us, and we had comfort in knowing that at any moment if we had a major catastrophe we would be well cared for.
Before embarking on this adventure, we had no idea how amazing the sailing community was. Never before, and certainly not since, have I met a group of people who will literally clamber to help their fellow men like sailors do. It is clear where the term “we are all in one boat” comes from. They truly treat each other as if they are one unit and diligently take care of each other as much as possible.
As newbie kayakers, we had no idea how this all worked, but we soon learned how much we could depend on this helpful community if needed. In fact, shortly after setting off on our grand adventure, we came to realize that we could lean on the sailing community for more than just moral support — they would provide us with food and water along the way as well.
Over time, we found our way to the Exuma chain of islands which required us to make a 23-nautical-mile open-water crossing to reach the northernmost island. With no agenda or timeline, we slowly paddled our way south intending to reach Georgetown, the largest settlement in the island group, which was located at the southern end of the 100km, 365 island chain.
One day while my boyfriend was walking on the beach near where we were camping, he came across an older gentleman who was also out for a walk. They got to talking and, of course, the man wanted to know where his boat was. This is when he told him that we were just living out of our kayak.
The man was astounded and had many questions. After all, at that point, we were very far from a place where other people typically kayaked. They chatted for a while, then he told my boyfriend that he wanted to give us some food to take with us and that we should paddle over to his anchored boat nearby to collect it.
We were not going to pass up this opportunity, so later in the day, we pushed our kayak off the beach and headed over to his boat. We were immediately in love with his beautiful trawler — with wooden features and attention to detail, we could only dream of ever owning something so lavish.
It looked like he had a few generations of family there with him, and one would think that this man had everything in the world that would ever make him happy. Plus, I’m sure many envied his wealth and status.
However, as we pulled up to the boat, he had both hands on the railing and was looking down at us with very sorrowful eyes.
He let out a large sigh.
“Boy did I live my life backward. When I was young I wanted to do what you are doing, but I was determined to work hard just so that I could retire. I hoped that once I retired, I would be able to do all the things that I had wanted to do my whole life. But now I’m too old to do those things.” he said regretfully.
A quiet hush fell over everyone as they stared at us in silence. I glanced past him and locked eyes with a young lady who I would guess was his daughter. She held her child on her hip and had a look of suspicion in her eyes as if she was wondering “Who are these people who have sent Dad into such a tailspin?” We had clearly rocked this man’s seemingly solid foundation with our chosen way of life.
We were speechless.
Here we were, basically bums living off the beach with barely any money to our names, collecting handouts of food, and this man with an enormous amount of wealth was obviously envious of us!
After the uncomfortable moment, the man broke the silence, “Here, let me get you that food.”
We chatted with him a bit more, then wished them well. Their holiday was over and they were headed back to the US and back to a life of commitments — we were on a one-way journey without an end date in mind — at least until our money ran out.
As we paddled away from his boat, our hatch full of new and exciting morsels of food, we had a little more jump in our step, or spring in our paddle, and we relished in the freedom we enjoyed and the wonderful life we had chosen to live.
At the end of the day, let there be no excuses, no explanations, no regrets. ― Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free
Thank you to Darren Weir and his publication Travel Memoirs for publishing my story.
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