Our goal that hot June day was to make it across Lake
Okeechobee and anchor by nightfall somewhere on the Rim Canal or even in the
lake itself.
A native of Florida my entire life, I lived only forty miles from the elusive
"Lake" but never once had I seen it. I looked forward to this leg of our voyage.
I awoke that morning beaming with anticipation. Only too soon would I denounce all visions
of beauty and grandeur and replace them with feelings of despondency and despair.
Someone once described Lake Okeechobee to me as a huge
shallow bowl. It's unique in that it's the second largest freshwater lake in the
continental United States with a mean depth of only seven feet. All I knew was that it was
a big blue spot slap in the middle of every Florida map I'd ever seen.
We passed through the Port Mayaca Lock early that
afternoon. As the immense gates opened before us, a new frontier lay ahead (well, at least
for me). The sun shone brightly above, creating blinding sparkles on the great expanse of
water. Land was not visible on three sides. I was naively surprised that I couldn't see
land on the opposite shore. We re-checked our charts again and again, re-calculated hazards
to navigation; we were ready! I was ready--yippee!
I can remember it only took ten minutes. Ten minutes to
forget how elated I had been. By the end of that short span of time, I secretly wished I
were dead. Mistakenly, I had envisioned the "Lake" as a grand body of water
pristine and still. Glassy, calm and still. Why didn't anyone ever tell me
that a passing squall or a moderate blow could create short, steep waves in her
shallow waters? And that these same treacherous undulations could cause even the most
iron-lined stomach to lose its breakfast?
I had set out on this journey well-read and well
prepared on the prevention and various cures for seasickness. Unfortunately, I had
suffered from it on many occasions--on every dive trip and even occasionally on day trips
on the river. Yes, on the river. I've gotten sick in cars and on planes. The mere wake of
a passing boat can set my stomach to churning. So I knew that on this three week voyage, I
would definitely face the nausea demon again. I filled prescriptions for Scopolamine
patches and Phenergan (anti-histamine). On board, were boxes of Dramamine and Bonine. We even had those elastic bands with
mythical power to blast away sickness by pressing (via magnets) on special anti-nausea "pressure
points." My arsenal of supplies was ready. The heavy artillery was out and I was
going to conquer this enemy once and for all! But not this day. My battle would be over before it had
even started.
There was one small requirement to most of these medications... they had to
be taken before any jaunt out on the water. To prevent seasickness, NOT to cure it. But
what use did I have for those medications today? None. No reason at all, I thought. Like
the motionless canals I had traversed and would traverse after the crossing the lake, the
lake would be much the same. Ha.
As I had said, it only took ten minutes. We rounded the last of the markers on the approach into the lake and headed
Southwest. Our little ship
turned immediately into a following sea on the
quarter stern. The air blew hot like a bathroom hand dryer. The sun baked me as I sat on
the cockpit locker--I was slowly becoming a piece of beef jerky. My head began to ache and
I started to salivate...profusely. My partner at the helm continued our course, and
grinned with excitement. He was like an old pirate out on the open ocean in the middle of
a storm. AARGH!
All he needed was a bottle of rum in a hooked hand. How could he look so
comfortable and smug while this boat whipped around as if in seizure? I was jealous. And
pathetic.
I sat there in utter misery looking nonchalant. I
couldn't look sick, I didn't want to give my son any ideas. I lazily turned my head and
looked over at him. He was frowning. "Mom," he said, "I think I'm gonna
throw up." Relieved that I was not the only one, I grabbed his hand and flew through
the companionway. Within milliseconds, we were horizontal on the cabin sole.
As I lied there motionless with my equally discontent little boy for the
next six grueling hours, I tried to figure out how I could have been so stupid. What could
I have done differently? Well, PREVENT getting sick in the first place was one
thing. That could have been accomplished by simply doing what I had learned.
It's All in Your Head!
If somebody says that to you the next time you hurl
over the side of their boat, reply (after your finished of course), "Yes, in fact, it
is!" Scientifically speaking, seasickness or any type of motion sickness for that
matter, is caused by the "erratic stimulation to the brain from sensory receptors,
prompted by changing movement. Fluid in the inner ears moves with the body's motion and
stimulates receptors in various parts of the brain." These "erratic"
signals cause the brain to be confused of a person's position and create various symptoms,
including: headache, nausea, vomiting, loss of balance, dizziness and unsteady gait.
There are a few recognized seasickness
"triggers" that will get you every time:
-
Going below for extended time periods. Stay out of the head! I found
this place to be the most incredibly nauseating area of the boat. It was way too
confining.
-
Trying to read a book.
-
Looking through binoculars for longer than a glance.
-
Noxious diesel fumes
Of course, there are others.. those mentioned are just the ones
that always floored me the most.
An Ounce of Prevention is Worth...Another Day
of Not "Chumming" the Ocean
There are plenty of preventative measures you can take
and more are being discovered. Medication treatments are out there to prevent
seasickness and many must be taken several hours before leaving to work
effectively. Many do have common side effects among them, but almost anything is
better than vomiting.
Non-prescription (all anti-histamines):
-
Dramamine I and II-- must be taken at least one hour
before trip. Difference between I and II? Dramamine II is designed to make
you less drowsy.
-
Bonine-- is less sedating than Dramamine.
-
Stugeron-- not currently available in the United
States. An old(er) English sailing friend of mine swears by it! He says it
doesn't make him drowsy and has always been very effective.
Prescription Medications:
-
Phernergan--another anti-histamine, however is used
primarily to treat seasickness. It will stop vomiting dead in its
tracks, but you are guaranteed a long nap along with it. It is available by
injection, pill, syrup or suppository. 
-
Transderm-Scop--quite possibly the best invention
known to man (for me, at least). Consists of a small patch worn behind the
ear and is effective for three days. It must be placed at least four hours
prior to departure. I, personally, swear by this sucker. Later into our
voyage, we sailed a leg from Marco Island to Key West. A squall passed right
after leaving Marco Island and kept the seas jumping ( 6-8 feet ) until we
hit Key West, 19 hours later. Yes, 19 long hours. I can say I felt
uncomfortable with the boat rocking about for so long, but never ONCE did I
feel nauseous. I learned well from my Lake experience and had placed the Scop-patch the night before we left.
Homeopathic ideas:
-
Ginger-good natural seasickness preventative, the
root of this plant has been used for centuries. It can be used in any form
(fresh slices, powder, ale, ginger snap cookies, tablets) to soothe
your stomach. Ginger tea can be made by adding 1/2-1 tsp. ground ginger to
cup water and steeping for a few minutes. Add honey, if desired. There's no
scientific proof behind it, but then again it has no side effects either.
Ginger is sold in health food and grocery stores.
-
"Motion Mate"-- created by Nature's Way,
contains ginger, meadow sweet, peppermint, red raspberry and hyssop.
-
Wristbands (Queaz-Away, SeaBands, etc.)--found in West
Marine
-
Spoonful of honey
-
Angostura bitters mixed in 1/2 glass of water, found in
liquor stores. If it doesn't stop the sickness, it'll at least make you
drunk enough to forget about it!
Okay, so if you didn't do anything before
leaving port and ended up getting sick as a DOG, there are some
things you can do to help. However they surely didn't rid me completely of that terrible feeling. The only
thing I could successfully will myself to do was stop salivating like a sweating
canine.
1). Keep your eyes on the horizon (that is, if you have the strength to
sit up. I kept my eyes on the fiberglass ceiling above me).
2). Apply cold packs or ice to neck (if you have the luxury to have ice on
board).
3). Jalapeno poppers topped with bacon strips would not be a good meal
choice here... avoid spicey and greasy foods at all costs. If not, you will see your meal
later.
4). Take slow/deep breaths. (This seemed to help me keep it all down, as
long as I really concentrated).
5). Eat small, frequent quantities of crackers or dry toast--a common
morning sickness helper
I can't begin to imagine cruising the seas on
a Spanish galleon back in Christopher Columbus's days. Nothing was available to
these ancient mariner's. The method of treatment then was to just deal with it
and keep working. Today, a plethora of treatments and preventative methods are
available. That is, as long as you take the initiative and are not too stubborn
to take them ahead of time.
I have since learned my lesson after
that cruise and have yet to get sick after discovering (rather painfully) my
limits out on the water. It's a good idea to bring a few different treatments
with you in case one doesn't do the job. Even if you have never gotten seasick
before, anticipate it anyway. Being prepared surely can't hurt, and if you
neglect it and end up getting nauseous, the only one to benefit from your
mistake will be the fish!
By Prudence Meads
Pilothouse Online,
Editor
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