Patrick O’Brian on the storms of life

The tempests of life don’t always surprise us. Some we’ve faced before, and we often see them coming. When that’s the case, it helps to remember the experience. There’s an episode in Patrick O’Brian’s The Wine-Dark Sea that features four common stages of a storm. Though no two trials are identical, these stages rang true for me.

1. All is well. O’Brian’s story begins in the Pacific as the former Royal Navy frigate, Surprise, charts a course for Cape Horn. The crew knows rough seas are coming, so they use their time to cover ground and gain strength.

The promised weeks [of excellent weather] they had, weeks of pure sailing, with the Surprise often logging two hundred sea-miles between one noon observation and the next. And when at last the trade winds faltered and left them, within a day the even more favorable westerlies took over.

2. The winds increase. Difficulties are on the horizon, so you order your life and prepare . . .

Those were idyllic weeks; but how difficult it was to remember them . . . a fortnight after the ship had sailed into the true Antarctic — had sailed into that green water at fourteen knots under topsails, fore-courses and a jib, impelled by an almighty quartering wind. The change was not unexpected. Well before this ominous parallel the frigate’s people had been engaged in shifting, packing and storing her light sails and replacing them with much heavier cloth, with storm-canvas trysails and the like for emergency.” 

3. Hold on! Once the full force of a trial arrives, you lose track of time, and it’s your deep convictions and wise preparations that make the difference . . .

This serving-out happened on a Tuesday in fine clear weather, a pleasant breeze blowing from the north-west. On Friday the ship was tearing eastwards with four men at the wheel, snow blurring both binnacles, hatches battened down, and the muffled watch on deck sheltering in the waist, dreading a call to grapple with the frozen rigging and board-stiff sails. In such very thick weather observation was impossible for days on end. Jack could not be sure of his longitude or latitude, dead-reckoning in such wind and seas being wonderfully uncertain.

4. Through the storm. Often without warning, you wake up one day and realize you’ve made it through.

And then there was calm. The sky cleared and Jack had a series of perfect observations of first the sun, then Achernar, and later Mars himself, positions that were confirmed by the other officers.

Weathering a storm is a milestone experience, and it shapes you into a different person. Stronger, leaner, wiser. Toughened, yet gentler. Children know you’re safe, and others respect you. They realize you’re less tied to this world. So, what are those preparations that bring us through a blinding gale? My list includes things like learning to trust God, holding fast to genuine relationships, releasing entanglements, eliminating distractions, and reading The Book of Psalms. As the Bible often reminds us, deep roots bear fruit.

You can read about such things in leadership books, but it’s not easy to visualize them. That’s where story comes in. Thank you, Patrick O’Brian.