I grew up among Sailors of different sorts; I became a youngster and later a man hearing all sorts of tales of the struggles of men against the Oceans, histories both of success in -at least momentarily- taming and harnessing the powers of the Seas to achieve unthought-of challenges, as well as of utter failure and death, brought either by the lack of respect of bold men who dared, or by the chances of Nature, embodied in the rage of the Seas.
Among those myths, Cabo de Hornos -Cape Horn- is one of the most renowned. The Finis Terrae, The End of the World... early explorers and expeditioners of the Old World battled to conquer this Godforsaken, lost piece of land that marked the pass to western America: the New World, the Promised Land. So many lost their life trying to breach the pass from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean; even in these modern times, where we take everything for granted and where we think we have everything under control -including Nature- the Cape still has its say from time to time, charging its toll.
Most recently, my admiration and respect for this lost piece of land was reinforced by the thoughts and comments made by Felipe Cubillos, a Chilean sailor who raced a Round the World regatta -The Portimao Race-, making his way on a 40 foot yacht on a duo with another Chilean sailor. After almost 4 months of Open Ocean sailing, he made his way around Cape Horn leading the race early this year.
Felipe was following the dreams of his deceased father, who's biggest wish had always been to race a round the world regatta.
Hernán Cubillos could never accomplish his dream due to a cruel illness that took his life at a still early age and basically, because his personal intervention avoided a war among kin Nations: a dramatically- escalating limits conflict between Chile and Argentina in 1978 forced him to literally step down from the plane he was boarding to the Rolex (?) Round the World race.
The role he played in the conflict as Chilean Minister of Foreign Affairs was fundamental in avoiding what seemed an imminent War; he had the genius and vision to request Pope John Paul II's mediation on a conflict that was escalating out of all rationale and control.
He was not able to fulfill this dream, but many of us trust that the bitterness and sadness of that failure might have been made sweeter in light and thought of the many lives he saved.
Felipe wrote beautiful words from the deepest corner of his soul as he rounded the Horn, head of the pack, chasing the dreams of his father which were now his own dreams come true. Those words reached me and most of the Chilean Sailing community -and probably the world's- through the wonders of modern time: he submitted daily reports via email from his yacht depicting his thoughts,fears, hopes and emotions; nevertheless, those words seemed to reach us through the mist of time, the weight of history, and the strength of an ideal that conquers and transcend life and death.
I am certain they were his father's words reverberating through him.
As I sailed last week into Cape Horn onboard the Mare Australis -a cruise ship much more comfortable and pleasurable than the ships the early discoverers (as well as modern sailors as Felipe) had to sail in- all those thought came crashing into me.
As I stood up there in the open deck of the ship at 05:30 am, watching the Cape come to meet me amongst the mist, the hail, the waves and the 50 knot gale that made me clear Nature was in control here -not us-; as the tears found their way into my eyes from the bottom of my heart and Soul; as all my senses rejoiced in the Greatness of it all, and as I though of my children and of my wife Valentina, who carries my third child in her womb probably waking up soon in the Cabin below deck... I thought all these thoughts, and I found yet another reason to be thankful of God and his Greatness.
God speaks through His Creation... and that day, the Wind, the Waves, the Oceans, they shouted something I have been conscious for quite some time now: what a joy it is to live.
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