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To the Far Edge of the Ocean
I am an islander with an ocean for a heart
I didn’t know I needed its proximity until I left it. I didn’t realise I was an islander until I went away.
Ten years ago, I flew into Chicago and spent the summer backpacking to the Californian coast. Two months away from the ocean. It was then I knew. As I reached the Montara coast path I found myself breaking into a run.
The Pacific was colder than I’d expected but the moment my bare feet touched the water, I found I could breathe again.
An ocean for a heart
It’s easy to forget that the UK is an island because to us, it’s quite big. We take our continual closeness to the sea for granted. But the farthest point inland in the UK is just 70 miles from the coast. So yes, we are islanders.
I grew up a five minute walk from a beach and I’ve never lived very far from the sea in my entire life. It’s a constant. The cliffs are a place to go for celebrations and commiserations, for peace, for loss, for reflection, for thunderstorms.
In 2014 I took it further, I sailed away on my little old boat. For three years I sailed between European islands then across the Atlantic to explore Caribbean islands.
