Abby Sunderland
American sailor who, in 2010, attempted to become the youngest person to sail solo around the world.
The seriousness of my situation started to sink in, and again I fought panic. I pushed it down, but it was harder this time, like my insides were an open can of shaken soda and I was trying to keep it from bubbling up out of the top.
One day that same year, I told my dad that someday, I would sail around the world alone.
Going up the mast is one of the most dangerous things you can do as a solo sailor.
It seems like people my age are over-protected today, even to the point where a lot of parents refuse to put their kids in the position to make important decisions, to aspire to great things, because they don’t want to put them in a position to fail.
Fewer people have successfully solo-circumnavigated the globe than have journeyed into space.
I was so thankful that my parents trusted me enough and had enough faith in my abilities to let me follow my passion and try to do something great, even if I might fail.
All the ingenuity, all the high-tech gear, all the jury-rigging—sometimes the sea would rip it all away until there was only you, the Creator, and His mercy.
I will never forget the feeling of walking into my home, a place that while drifting helpless in the middle of the Indian Ocean I wondered if I would ever see again.
But the more times she missed, the faster she’d be traveling when she finally slammed into the mast. And it wasn’t if she hit the mast; it was when. At that point, Abby would be either severely injured or dead.
It was dark. Something had fallen on top of the cabin light, turning the cabin into a black tunnel. I couldn’t hear anything at all. The roll didn’t stop. It continued to port, and for just a few seconds I was sitting on the ceiling in the dark.
Even without looking I knew: there was no way I still had a mast. And without a mast, the trip was over.
But none of that kept me from picturing what a tsunami might look like if it did rise up and roar toward my little boat like some watery blue version of the Great Wall of China.
Just like that, a single phone call erased one possible, horrendous future—and replaced it with the bright certainty that God had answered the prayers of thousands and that their beloved Abby was coming home.
The swells were amazing! As big as three-story apartment buildings!
Wild Eyes was built for speed and I was flying down walls of water twenty and thirty feet high.
It was like a horrible movie clip, only worse, because I could feel it—not just see it.
I will definitely attempt to sail around the world again. In fact, I can’t wait for the chance to try again.
When I saw the plane, I was absolutely astonished! Two emotions crashed over me: surging joy and crazy fear.
I am twelve thousand miles wiser, twelve thousand miles more resilient, and I have twelve thousand miles more faith in God.
There are a number of places on marine charts where even the most weathered sailors point and say, “Right there, nothing can go wrong. Everything has to go right.” One place is the turbulent passage south of Cape Horn. Another is the dead center of the Indian Ocean.