Tuesday, August 26, 2008

最長的一夜──Jiayu 版
(The Longest Night -- Jiayu's Version)

大言不慚從未暈船、身強體健的我,終究被這片小小海域擊敗。

我盡力看著遠方而忽略船邊一股股襲來的波浪,或許我忙於克服頭昏腦脹噁心想吐的感覺,對於逐漸遠離陸地進入蠻荒之海居然絲毫不覺恐懼。

我蜷縮在艙內晃動感最小的長椅上,唯有躺下讓我感到較為舒服。艙外Rob全神貫注的控船,不時船身大幅晃動,隨之傳來他暗暗的咒罵聲,我知道又遇到出奇不意的浪群。

在天轉為黑暗之前,我在值班時奮力與海浪搏鬥,維持船盡可不要大幅搖晃,休息時立刻躺下。我錯過Rob提到的集美麗與恐怖於一身的日落與晚霞。再度醒來輪我值班時,天色已黑。

我在黑暗中掌舵,Rob善解人意的縮在舵艙的一角陪伴著我,四周一片漆黑,冷風直吹,我心中卻一片暖意。主船桅頂端我賴以辨識風向的指標已全然消失在黑暗中,所有定向就只依靠艙門旁懸掛的風向儀。我開玩笑向Rob說這真沒什麼,跟打電動玩具沒有兩樣,完全靠儀器行駛。

當Rob終於決定將船停下,等待曙光來臨再度前進時,我們輪替坐在甲板上巡邏。獨自一人坐在黑暗中,我看到最燦爛的銀河與流星,卻開始想像尼斯湖水怪、幽浮、巨大章魚等詭異傳說。船尾的小舟隨著浪有時突然從詭異角度浮現,都讓我汗毛豎立以為鬼船出現,遠方突然閃爍的漁船燈光都被我誤判為幽浮探照燈。我有著下一刻就會立刻撞上陸地的幻覺,僅有手握我們珍貴的掌上GPS,看到螢幕上的我們仍是一片蔚藍中的小黑點,靜止於同一方向,我才鬆一口氣,再度回到注意是否有詭異生物會出現。

我才知道,渴望接近大自然,生活在其節奏之中的我是如此的幼稚與天真。在真正體驗自然力量時,給我慰藉的,居然是人造的科技,我無法真正感受風與浪的對話,所有精力都放在掌舵、儀器、以及GPS之上。我對於風與浪敏感程度如此之低,以致我無法判斷我們是否移動。要說與自然共舞,經歷此次航程,我才知道自己離自然有多麼遙遠。

但是,我卻因此更進一步的接近親密關係。我可看到在精疲力竭、充滿恐懼害怕卻長夜漫漫的狀況之下,二人可以如何輕易的責怪、埋怨對方,可以如何輕易的將挫折、憤怒與恐懼藉口發洩在對方身上。我們卻不斷記得對方如何願意的看護與照顧自己的脆弱,也願意以同樣的心情回應與看守對方。我驕傲自己可以操縱著整艘船,讓Rob信任的躲入船艙入睡。在對船一無所知而只能不斷接受被照顧的二個月之後,能夠付出與照顧令我快樂。我們學習在到達極限時不硬撐,清楚表達我們需要的協助;在脆弱時要求一個擁抱與口語上的鼓勵和肯定。我感受到的是:並非因為我們面對大難關需要一同度過而產生的假性團結與互相依賴,而是學習對自己身心狀況有更高度察覺之下,彼此調整出諧和的親密節奏。

[translation]

Me, proud of never being seasick, proud of my strong healthy body, I was finally defeated by one tiny patch of calm ocean.

I did my best to look at the distant horizon and avoid watching the hypnotic pattern of the incoming waves. Perhaps it was simply because I was so busy fighting off nausea, but as the land slowly disappeared into the distance I didn't even feel the slightest touch of fear.

Inside, I curled up on our seabunk, the spot on the boat that moves the least. Only when I was lying down could I get a little comfort. Out on deck, Rob put all of his attention on sailing the boat over the lumpy sea. Once in a while, as the sea pitched him in an unexpected direction I would hear his half-spoken curses from the cabin hatch. Then I would know the sea was dealing him a new set of lumps.

Just before sunset, I took a shift fighting the waves, doing my absolute best to keep the pitching seas from pitching our sailing rig. As soon as my shift was over, I immediately laid down and slept. I completely missed the sunset that Rob described as the most terrible beauty he had ever seen. By the time I awoke, it was already dark.

In the pitch blackness, I took over the boat. Seeing my fear, Rob was kind enough to curl up on deck out of the weather and not immediately go below to sleep. All around, above and below was darkness. A cold wind blew. But my heart felt warm.

The wind indicator atop the mast was completely hidden by darkness. So, my only method of orienting the boat to the wind was the wind instrument dial next to the cabin hatch. I joked with Rob saying that sailing was nothing, it was just like playing a video game. I was sailing by instruments.

Later, when Rob decided it was finally time to stop the boat and wait for daylight, we took turns standing watch. Alone in the dark, I saw the Milky Way more clearly than ever, but my mind kept imagining seamonsters, UFO's, and giant octopuses rising from the deep. Since we were stopped, the dinghy we were towing would drift around on its line showing up at unexpected angles. More than once its ghostly appearance sent shivers down my spine as I imagined us being approached by some ghost ship. The lights of distant fishing boats became spaceships landing from other planets. I kept having fantasies of imminent collision with the shore. I would turn on the GPS immediately. Its picture of a small black dot on a large field of blue would reassure me that we were still jogging steadily in place. I would breathe a brief sigh of relief, and then immediately resume my job of watching out for monsters.

Out there on the sea it was my most immature parts which came to the fore. Once my desire to be close to the forces of nature was finally realized, it was technology that provided my solace. I couldn't appreciate the conversation of wind and waves. All my energy was focused on the tiller, the wind instrument dial, and our handheld GPS. My sensitivity to the boats motion isn't strong enough yet. I couldn't tell when we were sailing and when we were holding position. We sometimes speak of “dancing with nature,” but this night showed me exactly how far away from nature I actually am.

Instead of closeness to nature, what I got during this passage is a different type of closeness. I can see how two people, filled with fear, passing a long night together could blame each other for their situation. It would be easy to feel frustrated with each other, to complain about each other. Fear can anger can easily blame another person for their existence. But the two of us never forgot that the other was willing to sit alone in the cold and dark and keep us safe. And we were both willing to care for the other, to take the boat into our hands and create a safe place for the other to rest and recover.

I was very proud that I could take command of the entire boat and give Rob the confidence to lay down inside and sleep. Starting with almost no experience of sailing three months ago, I was overjoyed that I had advanced to the point that I too could take care of him. We are learning how to recognize our limits and to ask clearly for the help we need. When we are feeling weak, we ask for a hug or some reassurance. This isn't the temporary camaraderie of two people facing a crisis together. What we have is two people each coming to a better understanding of ourselves and of each other. We are learning new rhythms, relating to each other with deepening harmony and closeness.