Essentials: Taking Risks

Living on this boat is like low-level, constant exposure therapy to taking risks. In particular, coming and going from home, a daily thoughtless process for most, takes on new meaning here.

Getting on or off the boat requires you to take risks. Multiple risks. Some are minor - make a misstep and you'll be covered in mud. Some are not - put a foot wrong, and it's into the Thames.

On a boat or in life, there are 6 key things to remember when taking risks:

1. Know your options. Then decide. After making it through the dark, muddy park, the first choice you have to make is how you will get to the tow path.

Option A:

The slippery path

Option A is a slippery path. Advantages - Multiple hand holds (tree branches). More tree detritus for traction. Roots limit how far you can slide in any one go. Disadvantages - Poor visibility. With the right level of rain fall, the path quickly turns into a slick. Some of the trees have thorns.

Option B:

The steps

Option B is a set of steps that a long gone shipmate once cut into the bank. Advantages: Better visibility if the generator is running. Known foot falls. Occasionally some gravel for traction. Disadvantages: No hand holds. Intermittent giant puddle at the bottom of the steps not visible from the top. Large piece of metal jutting out of the top step.

Weigh your options carefully. Consider weather conditions, footwear, how laden you are, if the wind is up, and your level of intoxication. Then decide. One way or another, you will make it to the tow path.

2. Accept that there will be unavoidable muck you just have to get through to reach your goal. Once you have made it to the tow path, you have no choice but to walk it.

The shitfest that is the tow path

As with life, sometimes the unavoidable crap is almost ok, and sometimes it is like a disgusting river of feces. Put your head down and just keep going.

3. Use the resources available to you. Taking risks shouldn't be a blind leap into the abyss. That is a great way to wind up with broken ribs and a belly full of river water.

The gang plank

After wading down the tow path, you arrive at the gang plank. If you thought the challenges so far were daunting, well, they were just the beginning. You now need to make your first move over the river.

What resources do you have? You have your senses. Look at the base of the gang plank. Is it secure? Test the bank side against your weight. Does it slide? You have the choice of 3 tree branches for hand holds. You have your wits - how much are you carrying? Is there frost?

4. Move quickly when you sense success. Gang plank crossed, you will find yourself on a gerry rigged step attached to the side of the OKC, our sister ship.

The step up

Build on your successes. Move quickly. Step up. Grab the rail boat side. Pull yourself up. Push yourself up. Whatever you do, do it quickly. Especially if the river is high and at your heels. Use your momentum.

5. Face the fear. You've done it. You've taken the small risks that have led you most of the way. But the biggest is yet to come. That moment where you have the most to lose, just as your goal is in sight.

Almost home...

You know it's coming. The fear rises. But remember, you know your options, and how to decide. You know it will be unpleasant for a bit. You know there are resources available to you, and that it pays to move quickly rather than hesitate when success is in sight. Face the fear. And then...

6. Be brave. Act. You step up, first on the breeze blocks, then on to the sturdy wooden stump. Lashed to the stump is a steel pole, welded to the hull of the OKC. Home on the ROR is now one step away. But, this is no ordinary step. It is the most important step. It is the most risky step.

The gap of doom

Look down, and you see the murky Thames churning below. The OKC is lashed to the ROR by a single, thick, ancient chain. As with life, sometimes the weather is calm and the last step is easier than expected. However, sometimes the wind is blowing with gale force, rain is cutting at your cheeks, and the boats are moving to and fro in the frantic tides of the river.

Easy or terrifying, there is no other option. If you want to reach your goal, if you want to go home, you have to act. You alone. You have to make that last stretching nearly impossible step.

You hold on to the steel. You test the distance by stretching out your leg. Distance judged, you move. You throw out a short leg, and touch deck. You push off from the pole, you lean into your leap, and in that last airborne millisecond, you hope you will make it. You believe you will make it.

And with a little luck and a lot of practice, you do.