Vado per mare

“Will your son stop sailing?”, I asked. The captain shook his head. “It is different. It is his job. It is his life. But you? You came for adventure. And look what happened! Maybe you are cursed. Maybe you are like Jonah in the Bible.”

Then he became angry. His son had told him my story. “What kind of fool runs away from a good father? What kind of fool throws away a comfortable life? I wouldn't sail with you again for a thousand pounds! You bring bad luck! You cause death!”

His words hurt me. But I said nothing. I had too much pride to admit that he was right. He went on talking. “Remember my words. If you do not go home, you will face disaster after disaster. Your father's curse will follow you. You will suffer until you wish you were dead.”

We went our separate ways. I never saw them again. I had money in my pocket thanks to the kind people of Yarmouth. I could go home to York. Or I could go to London and find another ship. The choice was mine. But shame made the decision for me.

How could I go home? Everyone would have laughed at me. “Here is the boy who ran away to sea!” they would have said. “One storm and he went back home crying!” I could not face that shame. My pride was stronger than my good sense. This is the foolishness of youth.

We are not ashamed to make mistakes. But we are ashamed to fix them. We are not ashamed to be foolish. But we are ashamed to become wise. So I went to London. On the way I fought with myself. But pride won every argument.

In London I stayed for a while. The memory of the storm started to fade. My fear became weaker. My desire for adventure became stronger. I thought less about home. I thought less about my father's tears. I thought less about God's warnings.

In the end I made my choice. I would have found another ship. I would have tried again. I would have shown that I was not a coward. I would have shown everyone that I could be a sailor. I was the greatest fool that ever lived. And I would have paid dearly for my stupidity.