TALK TO STRANGERS

The simple recognition of another soul

JANICE ANNE WHEELER JUN 16

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In May of 2023 Mother Nature sent a cold front to the Northern Bahamas with formidable blasts of winter wind. We are used to changing our schedule at her bidding and hunkered down in one of our favorite places and within hearing distance of many of them. When storms threaten and linger we turn on our long-range VHF two-way radio. It’s an old-school safety tradition which may (unfortunately) be going by the wayside in a world of cell phones. Out on the water, the tried and true habits seem to prove themselves, over and over.

We feel that VHF communications are crucial enough to have a backup.

That morning we heard a distress call from two individuals who had made a mistake large enough to leave them and their inflatable dinghy stranded on a formidable, sharply pitted scrap of limestone off of Foxtown, Abaco. They were smart enough to have a handheld VHF, but not food, water or extra clothing. The female voice was audibly distraught when I gently told them there was no way for us to get there, but we would call BASRA (Bamahas Air Sea Rescue Association, a volunteer non-profit and the only option). We called, received no response on the radio, and tried their emergency line. A very nice gentleman in Nassau answered, ninety miles away; he wanted to help and had absolutely no ability to do so. There was no one available under those conditions.

A winter storm encroaches on the Bahamas. Photo JA Wheeler

The wind increased and the couple called us again, frightened, tired, cold. They should never have left their sailing vessel, and their radio batteries were dying. We considered the possibilities. On STEADFAST we try to connect with locals; we TALK TO STRANGERS. Our many stops in this archipelago have taken us to Spanish Cay Marina and into the realm of a manager named Felix. We also knew the predominant business owner in Foxtown, Ronnie, having had a long conversation late one afternoon as he cleaned Grouper with a machete and fed his resident nurse sharks. If we could get BASRA to call Felix, who we knew was friends with Ronnie, he was only half a mile from the stranded Americans. We took that chance and long story short, it was a happy ending when, hours later, the storm dropped just a bit, Ronnie went out and rescued those folks, gave them shelter in his little hotel and fed them what was probably that day’s catch of Grouper.

Teaching your children not to talk to strangers may be ‘safer’ a tiny percentage of the time. It may also be what is wrong with an entire generation (or two, by now). I see it as a lack of common courtesy, a lack of manners, a fear of connection with and disregard for anyone who isn’t already a ‘contact’. I don’t know for certain what percentage of the population harms children but I like to think it is remarkably small. Most of us can be pretty great if given the opportunity. So I give people the option to show their good qualities, with the understanding that not everyone will.

I feel it is incredibly important to greet people, however simple the greeting may be. Maybe it’s a smile, or a nod. That acknowledgement is the recognition of another person’s soul. Simple. Crucial. Life-changing. Seriously. This is big. Perhaps I feel strongly because I want others to recognize the importance of my own soul. I’m sure that’s what it is. We all want to be recognized, to feel that we make a difference, to feel a spark of importance. We want to feel that, if we disappeared, it would matter. If we died, people would feel the loss. If we quit caring, people would miss our compassion, empathy, and love.

Imagine how much we can learn from strangers who have  SPARRED WITH MOTHER NATURE before us. They are willing to share the lessons. It’s a highly underestimated resource. Imagine how little you would grow as a person if you never met anyone new, never made any more human connections, never heard a different point of view. We are not here to live solo lives. We are here to socialize, excel and overcome the challenges that this world brings; take a look at this post: WE ALL SPAR if you have the opportunity.

We understand what the term web conveys; it represents an interconnectedness where one part relies upon another, and another, even if those parts are far apart. In an astonishing minute this spring the world watched as the entire Francis Scott Key Bridge crumbled into the Patasco River south of Baltimore like so many tinker toys. We watched it over and over, each time newly amazed that something we relied upon could crumble with such speed and totality by an (admittedly not too gentle) bump to just one of the pillars designed to support the whole. We had sailed underneath that marvel of human engineering on STEADFAST, never imagining the day it would no longer be connecting our intricate system of Interstate Highways and bypasses.

Frances Scott Key Bridge at Sunrise from STEADFAST, October 2022. Photo JA Wheeler

I use the World Wide Web to convey my thoughts and perspectives, as well as marvel at the endless possibilities, news, opinions, facts, photos and figures presented. I use it to market myself @ www.JaniceAnneWheeler.com. Before the internet, we had the Web of Life; the understanding that all living things are interdependent; like a spider’s web, you pull one thread and the whole thing unravels. Isn’t it interesting how we so often name our technology after a natural concept? The benign-sounding ‘cloud‘ is actually  a network of giant, energy-consuming, industrial buildings full of machinery, data storage and other things I don’t care to learn about. Charlotte’s Web (remember that innovative, memorable story from decades ago by E.B.White?) saved one soul. She was fictious, of course, and brilliant in her efforts; showing us how two unassociated life forms can connect. They don’t have to, but sometimes they do. When you greet someone they may not respond at all, but you made an impression. And you might have even made a difference.

Weeks ago, an email from Winston Fowler appeared amongst several that I did not recognize, strangers that the web had brought to me by all of its magic. Each one is a recognition of my soul, but with a modern twist; without the internet our paths would probably not have crossed. “You have a God-given talent….,” he wrote to me. I saved that email. Flagged it. Reread it. I’m proud of it. Very proud.

I’ve told people, long before this, that I don’t know exactly how I write the way that I do. I have the ability to put myself in another’s place. I have the ability to bring the reader into my place. I’m honing and exploring that ability, here with you now, on Substack. I am a Chef by trade, a creator of something completely different than the written word; I am an explorer, a traveler, a gardener, a student of whatever interests me. That sounds as if I’m boasting, but honestly, I’m not. I’m introducing myself further to you readers who have and will take the time to absorb this; it’s as simple as that.

Winston and the other folks who manage, create and share The Salty Southeast Cruiser’s Net are people who have already learned what those two rookie sailors needed to know. They have sparred and developed a unique perspective and respect for the waters of the world. The Cruiser’s Net reaches out to strangers and certainly supported me when, at the beginning of this venture, they saw something that was worthy of recognition. I was honored, and relationships have developed beautifully. Although this is a virtual meeting of the minds and souls, it is none-the-less fulfilling, because what the internet has given us, in addition to a too-large distraction from Mother Nature, is the ability to experience another person’s point of view. We used to get a daily newspaper delivered to our home. Now we have the world in the palm of our hand and I, too, am guilty of getting lost in there instead of paying attention to the people, places and things in my direct environs.

“We’re in this together,” my family says. And we are. Perhaps the dramatic and horrifying increase in mental illness and acts of violence has to do with the fact that people are more isolated from human touch and human smiles. When you walk down the street, head bent, staring at your device, you’re missing your very own whale watch. Whale Watches are just my personal metaphor, really, for paying attention to what’s around you. See My Life is a Whale Watch for why you should book one, no matter how chance-ridden it may be.

Photo JA Wheeler

Perhaps we could all seek out connection instead of focusing on the ugliness in this world and simply recognize another soul. It’s not that hard to do, and can be worth every ounce of effort.

I think it’s OK to TALK TO STRANGERS. What do you think?

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If your own soul was receptive to this post, please click the little heart at the beginning or at the end. It seems like a small thing, but does mean that my words get to travel on and hopefully inspire others to join us here.

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© 2024 Janice Anne Wheeler
548 Market Street PMB 72296, San Francisco, CA 94104