The wind was as strong as Indonesia’s equatorial sun, the day Mother Nature blew in that tempestuous storm. The darkness threatened overhead, then broke around me. I had no obligation to sail, but in those bitter-sweet final days, time was of the essence. I feared that wild, untamed ocean like a criminal fears a judge. It was a “Sliding Doors” moment: instinct said stay, pride said go. The ocean taunted me, rising angrily against anything in its path. Tears blinded me as I stepped onto the inadequate boat. The sea drew me into its violent clutches, and swept me away.