In Search of the I: Crossing the Atlantic in a Kayak

By Ramón Lugo

This unbelievable - yet true - story reminds one of biblical struggles: it echoes the story of Jacob wrestling with the Angel of God.

Throughout a long, dark night in the middle of the Atlantic, a lone man in a kayak braves ruthless tropical storm Franklin. Nothing is there to help him: no media, no helicopters, no rescue teams - and yet, his life is spared.

The book describes much more than this capturing imagination and awe-inspiring ordeal.

In 2005, the author, Ramon Lugo, set off to kayak alone across the Atlantic Ocean from the Chesapeake Bay to Spain. He considered this crossing a means of finding his inner self. He sought to experience times, "when pure courage is needed to let spirit take over."

The narrative conveys the raw sense of a seemingly impossible attempt to cross the ocean in a kayak in hurricane season. As we join Ramon David Lugo on his breathtaking odyssey, we get a taste of his unimaginable courage, which is a sister to faith.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Jul 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781452522050

Ramón Lugo

Born in Puerto Rico, raised in New York City, Ramón David Lugo always felt an affinity for the sea. Ramón served in the U.S. Coast Guard, in the Peace Corps / the United Nations Development Programme. Throughout his life, the sea continued to exert its pull on him and provide his deepest spiritual experiences.

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© 2016 Laura Lathrop and Katherine Kronick.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the editors except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher and editors hereby disclaim any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the editors and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

ISBN: 978-1-4525-2204-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4525-2205-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015917817

Balboa Press rev. date: 07/15/2016

Contents

Foreword

Preface

Acknowledgments

Introduction

1 Finding a Goal

2 Preparing the Kayak

3 Trying Her Out at Sea

4 Doing Final Training

5 Setting Out for Spain

6 Keeping a Vigil

7 The Ocean

8 Receiving Messengers

9 Surviving to Tell the Tale

10 Facing the Hurricane

11 Swamped, but Floating

12 Aboard the Lyra Pioneer

13 The Castaway

14 Coming Back to the World

15 The Minerva

16 Sleeping on Trains

Epilogue

Addendum

Endnotes

About the Author

Dedicated to

Ryan Landry Schulz

June 26, 1987–May 1, 2010

A Dear Friend

Embarking on a spiritual journey is like

getting into a very small boat and

setting out to search for unknown lands.

With wholehearted practice comes inspiration.

But sooner or later, we will also encounter fear.

For all we know, when we get to the horizon,

we are going to drop off the edge of the world.

Like all explorers, we are drawn to discover

what’s waiting out there without knowing yet

if we have the courage to face it.

Pema Chodron

When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times, 1997

You may ask the universal question: Why?

Why this dangerous journey?

I will, for the benefit of anyone who asks and

as an affirmation of my Self, attempt

in a few brief lines to communicate my Why.

Why? - I can. That is the best answer.

I can engage in this dangerous activity

to affirm my presence on earth, to validate my life:

I was here.

I gave what I had to give. That’s it.

Nothing fancy, nothing intellectually deep.

All I ask is just let me be me.

Ramón Lugo

The Why Question, Diaries, September 10, 2007

Foreword

"I feared I would not find my true selfhood—that life within my life.

I feared I would lose courage during the dark of night…"

Ramón Lugo

This unbelievable - yet true - story reminds one of biblical struggles: it echoes the story of Jacob wrestling with the Angel of God.

Throughout a long, dark night in the middle of the Atlantic, a lone man in a kayak braves ruthless tropical storm Franklin. Nothing is there to help him: no media, no helicopters, no rescue teams - and yet, his life is spared.

The book describes much more than this capturing imagination and awe-inspiring ordeal.

In 2005, the author, Ramón Lugo, set off to kayak alone across the Atlantic Ocean from the Chesapeake Bay to Spain. He considered this crossing a means of finding his inner self – that life within my life. He sought, to use his words, to experience times that require decisions outside of the realm of reason and logic, when pure courage is needed to let spirit take over.

The voyage was meticulously planned, yet only one friend knew about it. Ramón had to do it alone and without interference.

The narrative conveys the raw sense of a seemingly impossible attempt to cross the ocean in a kayak in hurricane season. As we join Ramón David Lugo on his breathtaking odyssey, we get a taste of his unimaginable courage, which is a sister to faith.

Katherine Kronick, Ph.D.

Preface

In Search of the I recounts how one person searched for his true Self. He chose to look for it by means of a path he knew was risky: a journey in a kayak across the Atlantic.

In this book, he describes his detailed planning for safety and the training and preparations that were necessary to survive. From a test trip on the Chesapeake Bay in March, he learns what adjustments need to be made. Following delays, the final launch is June 17 as he sets out for Galicia, Spain, with his loaded kayak. From Eastern Bay, he heads off down the Chesapeake Bay and out into the Atlantic Ocean, describing events and feelings as he crosses shipping lanes in the fog, meets friendly birds and unfriendly beasts of the sea, and faces violent Hurricane Franklin.

Laura Lathrop, Ph.D.

Acknowledgments

The author of this book, Ramón Lugo, invited us to take part in preparing his manuscript for publication. Following his unexpected death we continued to work on it. We feel greatly honored to help bring this extraordinary narrative into print.

Many people made technical, artistic, and organizational suggestions for the manuscript. Two friends were especially helpful: Reynold Feldman, Ph.D., who offered his editing ability early in the process and Susannah Ortego, who later contributed her wonderful copy editing skills. Many thanks to both of them.

We are grateful beyond words to other friends as well as to our family members for their support and contributions to the completion of this manuscript.

Editors

Introduction

Upon my return from Spain, I found myself more shadow than substance, bewildered by my good fortune, shocked by my level of audacity. I missed the special place I know truly exists and where someday I shall return. Friends asked me to write about my journey. This is a simple story—one often told by survivors, perhaps to reaffirm to themselves their having survived a disaster. This is the kind of story one would recount to trusted friends knowing that as you speak, these friends listen not only with their minds and hearts but also with their souls, as only one soul can to another.

Ramón David Lugo

1

Finding a Goal

Nothing ever just starts. We are always being, doing, becoming. Sometimes conscious and willing, sometimes not having a clue. When we are fortunate, we are aware of our personal history, which helps to give the events in our lives context. I needed an awareness of my inner history, what I have been, what I am, and what I may become. I found myself incomplete, groping for my place in the universe. Only by developing a unified self could I hope to evolve into something greater and more worthy of being human.

With life-changing events looming, I thought this could be an opportunity for something special if I wanted it to be. I needed to do something special, something just for me. After giving it some thought, I decided that Spain would be an ideal emotional and physical destination. I once had had a conversation with my dad about where our family had come from. It turned out to be somewhere in Galicia. He had wanted to go there himself, but the years had passed and he never went. Now I could go there for us both.

Going to Galicia was a goal that might have been easy: jump on a plane, rent a car, and come back. However, my trip to Galicia was not about trying to find my roots: I know where I came from, my personal history, and my culture of origin. I was and am a Post-Columbian Man, proudly a Creole. The purpose of this journey was to be more. I wanted to actively pursue a re-acquaintance with my inner self. The way I chose to go about this was to use my old folding kayak to cross the Atlantic Ocean. I wanted to overcome the time and distance that I had put between the self I had become and the true self I felt stirring within me. I needed the solitude of the ocean, the time, and a test. I needed to check my courage, as well as my abilities and resolve, to see how these traits would withstand improbable odds. This was something I would dare because the knowing was worth all risks.

I was fortunate to locate a living situation that permitted me everything I needed for my endeavors. I had found quarters in Stevensville on Kent Island, on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. They consisted of a ground-floor flat with a covered porch overlooking Eastern Bay. From this vantage point, I was able to see how the change of seasons affected this expansive body of water. The space was sufficient for me to exercise, cook, and sleep. The covered porch, moreover, was large enough to contain my unfolded kayak on sawhorses, permitting me to make any needed changes or adaptations that I considered necessary for a successful crossing. The living arrangement included a dog, small in stature but giant in spirit. The relationship with the dog provided warmth and the feelings of empathy I needed to keep me going as I began getting the kayak and myself ready.

2

Preparing the Kayak

My first endeavor was to prepare the kayak for the crossing. The kayak was a Greenland II that I purchased from the US company Folbot in 1996. With this boat, I had explored marshes and tributaries along the Eastern Shore of Maryland, as well as the seas and currents of the Mona Passage off Puerto Rico. I knew that someday I would have a great adventure with this kayak. The kayak, meanwhile, had transported me through my waking dreams as it carried me to distant, elusive destinations. As a symbol, it represented independence and freedom. Together, we would experience the distant unknown, full of gifts both permitted and forbidden. With this boat, I could go to those places of solitude and be welcomed by the reflective waters of contentment. The kayak, with its blue cloth deck and black hull made of Hypalon, measured seventeen feet, two inches in length and thirty-four inches at the beam. It had a mere sixteen inches of depth. A folding kayak, it was nothing more than skin on a collapsible frame.

Image01.jpg

Folbot Greenland II flyer (Author’s archive)

For this trip, I ordered the sailing kit designed for my boat. To have maximum usability, I also purchased a rowing rig from the Spring Creek Company of Minnesota. This feature would give me the additional security of telescoping outriggers made of solid foam. The seven-foot-six-inch spoon oars, though a little heavy, were a pleasure to use. I had opted for them since they were recommended for the rowing rig. If needed, they would convert to a spare kayak paddle and thus give me some redundancy.

I encountered few problems in adapting the kayak to become an outrigger-based sailing vessel. In use, the outriggers proved reliable and durable. Once the adaptation was completed, I dedicated many hours practicing with both the sail and the rowing rig. It pleased me to see how the boat responded. The sail rig consisted of the mast and sail. The outrigger system extended the beam to about ten feet. With the use of the leeboard and oversized rudder, the boat was able to maintain course very well when under sail. I had purchased a removable fabric deck that converted this two-person craft to a one-person kayak. This