the summer doldrums

and 'sailing by ash breeze'

It’s been one of those weeks. We’re all recovering from a wedding, and a string of family events with relatives galore. It’s hot. The kids got sick (after late bedtimes and being around approximately five million cousins this is not shocking), I’m behind on housework everywhere I look. It’s tempting to give in to the doldrums. The wind has gone out of my sails, and I feel, as the old sailors would say, becalmed.

Verb. becalm - leave (a sailing vessel) unable to move through lack of wind. ¹

I first heard this term in Jean Lee Latham’s book, Carry on Mr. Bowditch, the delightful true story of a boy, Nat, a self taught mathematician, who changes the course of maritime navigation with his mathematical discoveries. The beginning of the book finds him relegated to life as an indentured servant, trying to figure out how to not despair of the next nine years. A bitter older man tells Nat he’s “becalmed” but a newfound friend interjects to tell him he’s going to “sail by ash breeze”, explaining:

“When a ship is becalmed — the wind died down — she can’t move — sometimes the sailors break out their oars. They’ll row a boat ahead of the ship and tow her. Or they’ll carry out anchors and heave them over, and the crew will lean on the capstan bars and drag the ship up to where the anchors are heaved over. Oars are made of ash — white ash. So — when you get ahead by your own get-up-and-get — that’s when you ‘sail by ash breeze’.” p. 48

Some days, or weeks, or months, or years are an exercise in faithful endurance more than anything else. We don’t always feel the wind pushing us forward. It’s tempting to give in to self pity, wallow in our difficulties or explain all the excuses we have for not doing things, but the truth is that this rarely makes us feel any better. It’s wise to be compassionate to yourself - shame is a terrible motivator - but we have to start moving. We have to pick up the oars and start pulling.