A Shocking Development: The Cure for Seasickness?

-Words by Lucy. Inspiration (fear and suffering) courtesy of the ocean.

November 15, 2016. Night 3 of a 4 night passage. 1AM. Pitch black. Confused seas. Desperate unhappiness.

The cold wind chases me inside to do my watch from the salon. I stare out the front windows. My head pounds. My stomach churns. What is this feeling? Is it death? I turn my head to check the GPS and radar screen. I only have 3 hours and 59 minutes left!

I've been boating for 13 years and literally spent tens of thousands of hours on boats in various conditions. Pitching seas? Fun! Night sails? Spectacular!

I only need to look at the GPS every 15 minutes. That's only 16 head turns. I'm counting the minutes in my head. I've had time to eat 6 ginger cookies and pray for death 986 times; I'm probably late for my radar check!

Turn head. 3 hours and 58 minutes to go. That's like 10 million prayers for death. 10 million prayers that will go unanswered.

I go below and forage for the dramamine. I stare at the bottle. Last time I had dramamine I had hallucinations. Hallucinations on a boat in the ocean at night? Well, at least this has taken another 15 minutes! Check GPS: 3 hours and 57 minutes to go.

Somehow, I make it through my watch. Laying down with my eyes closed while praying for death is marginally better. The sun rises and all is well again. Let's never speak of this night again!

December 28, 2016. Dinner Key Mooring Field. Cold front, 30 knot winds. Daylight. The boat pitches and slams. I find myself incapable of doing anything but laying down and praying for death. Seasick at anchor?

June 16, 2017. Night 3 of a 5 night passage. It's raining. Confused Gulf Stream seas. The wind is up. A storm front is approaching. Matt's been doing 90% of the night watches as I have been sick. I'm determined to do one hour to let him get some sleep. It starts raining. CRASH! What just happened? I don't understand. Matt's on deck and shooing me away. I lay down. It takes me a while to put together that I just crash gybed the boat.

After tens of thousands of hours of fancy free boating, I'm forced to admit I have a problem. Hi, my name is Lucy. I've owned four boats over 13 years. I have a USCG 50 ton master's license and I get seasick at anchor.

I check the internet. Everyone says "it gets better". "After you've been boating a few times, your body adjusts". Ha! IT GETS WORSE! Nothing gets better! Why can't people admit this very simple fact of human existence? Ah, they are all on dramimine and having hallucinations.

Enter Amazon Prime, the giver of all goodness. An electrocultion bracelet.

November 18, 2017. Night passage: Charleston, SC to Fernandina Beach, FL. 1AM. Zap! I'm being electrocuted! 1,2,3,4 - bzz! I'm being electrocuted! What fun! Matt's on deck but I'm not in a hurry to leave the helm. The stars are out. I'm one with the boat, gliding across the ocean. Night sails are spectacular!

2PM - Very sporty inlet entrance. Don't worry, I'll just turn the knob higher. Zap! We're going to live!

November 25, 2017. A cold front moves through our unprotected anchorage. Waves from the inlet build. The wind is howling. I'm not seasick at anchor.

I don't know if the whole "pulses of electricity to the brain to re-align the nausea center" thing actually works. It's totally possible that I just believe it works because I can feel the shock. It's totally possible that it works because I'm so focused on being electrocuted that I don't have time to think about death by the sea, when there's death by electricity. But guess what? I don't care! My name is Lucy - and I'm an electrocution addict.