Outward bound II

My Outward Bound Experience

5/6/2016

by Nate Bender

For as long as I can remember, new adventures have held an important place in my life journey. My innate quest for new experiences have carried me on escapades, which tested my physical and emotional endurance, be it through competitive sports, military training or personal growth excursions. This life story takes the reader on one such an experience.

Since my 40^th birthday I have evolved into defining my aging progressions in five-year increments, much like marking our high school reunions on five-year intervals.  Imbedded in these logs are milestones and memorable undertakings. 

In 1993 I turned fifty, and commemorated that mark by running in a Thanksgiving Day five-mile Turkey Trot race starting and finishing at the Cleveland, Ohio Lake Front airport.  For me, each mile I covered represented one decade of my life, along with building an ever-increasing appetite for our turkey day feast awaiting my return home!  That race became the last one for me to run, as my aging knees said ‘enough!’

Five years later when I turned 55, I had a desire to yet again test my man hood while revitalizing any youth left in my body, and signed up for a 10-day Outward Bound sailing experience in Maine.   This sailing adventure became doubly challenging on a primitive twin mast, open cockpit wooden sailboat.  This 30-foot boat had to house fifteen people for 9 days, as one day and night was spent on an island.  Food provisions for the trip’s duration had to be stored in the confines of the boat.  And, we had to find space for each of our gear bags containing personal items and foul weather garments.  Additionally, we had to find space for maybe ten wooden oars, to be employed in the absence of wind.  Oh, and the boat had to accommodate a makeshift five-gallon-bucket-toilet, barely made private in front of the main mast head in the bow of the boat.  I can attest to the fact space on and in the boat was fully used!

These traditional/primitive centerboard sailboats required teamwork and leadership.  On an open boat with no cabin and no engine, we lived in close proximity to each other, using only wind and oars as propulsion. We rotated responsibilities, from cooking to steering to navigating, tasks which developed learning the crafts of maneuvering under sail, coastal navigation, rowing and living aboard a small open boat.  At night, we slept on deck, on top of our assembled oars and other stable parts of the boat, comforted by rubber mattresses and under a tarp.  We adhered to a nighttime schedule for shared anchor watch duties, some of which were under brilliant night skies.  Since I was usually the first to bed down at night, I frequently chose the 4:00 to 6:00 AM watch to catch the rising sun, offering time for reflection on the life I had lived and the course I was on.

I was the oldest member, by far, of the group, save for one of the two leaders being close behind at age 50.  No natural social bonding occurred in the beginning, so I sought to merely fit in and carry out whatever duties were required.  The group was coed, ranging in ages 18 to 38, making for some interesting sights around the calls of nature, marked by the women extending their bare behinds over the boat’s edge to relieve themselves, in lieu of using the ‘porta-potty’ on board.

The first day launch was memorable in that the wind was brisk and sailing on Penobscot Bay’s frigid waters was exhilarating, filling my senses in the process.  Within the first hour after setting out, we encountered a strong rainstorm, complete with stiff winds that required reefing of the sails and donning our rubber foul weather gear.  Two of the teenage women soon became unsettled by all the discomfort, and began to cry and plead for a course withdrawal.

Two scenarios stand out for me over the course’s duration: One involved daily ‘baths’ in frigid waters by jumping over board for a quick dip.  Invigorating it was and cleansing too!  In the course of getting back in the boat I rejected all efforts for assistance, instead, I relied on my own strength and tactics.  For this, I received kudos from the leaders, which validated my still possessing some youthful vigor.  During our daylong stay on Hurricane Island the bathing task was made a little more challenging….we had to jump into the still frigid waters from a twenty-foot high platform on shore.  It was shocking having to descend deeper into the water! 

The second scenario involved each of us experiencing solitude on the island.  We were dispensed a shelter-half, a bottle of water and a partial loaf of bread, then instructed to find a site suitable for foraging wild foods and a twelve-hour over-night stint.  This encounter with myself connected me to the realization that I’m at peace with myself around the life I had lived.  I also discovered evidence that I needed to retire in five years and venture into a new unknown (writing has become one of the unknowns!).





Upon our return to the starting point in Rockland, I had time to bid farewell to my fellow sojourners, complete with exchanging strong embraces and receiving acknowledgements of my humanity. The departure became tender and validated the merits of undergoing an Outward Bound adventure.  My manhood was still in tact, and residuals of youthful vigor was captured and embraced!

In the bus ride back to Portland I was filled with an insatiable craving for a lobster dinner!  So what did I do?  I feasted on a double order serving of such!

Transforming Lives

Transforming Lives

by Nate Bender

4/1/2016

I have been captivated by human behavior all my life.  I even pursued the academic study of psychology.  People have always mattered more than things.  I have long sought new challenges and opportunities to learn and improve my personal and professional undertakings.  As I found transformative results for myself, I also sought to promote the same results in others.  My employment as a probation officer, Army officer, organization development consultant, and psychotherapist offered varied opportunities to assist in improving human performance.  The residual effects of these dealings hastened my own growth and development.  My life has been blessed by often transformative results held in these endeavors.

This life story seeks to capture some examples of my work in creating change for the better in the lives of others.  When I witnessed the learning and growth of others, I also uncovered parallel changes in my personal and professional life.  Two forums which exemplify these results center around leading and co-leading two support groups hosted by Fairmount Presbyterian Church in Cleveland Heights, Ohio:  Starting Anew and Recreating Marriage With The Same Old Spouse were the group forum titles.

I met my wife Sandra in 1985, when she was launching a support group for divorced and widowed singles in the greater Cleveland, Ohio area.  She invited me to join the group in its first series.  The purpose of the group involved promoting community along with support for any healing of old emotional wounds, while imparting life skills to well, start anew.  At the conclusion of the first series, Sandra asked me to collaborate in designing and co-leading subsequent series, an undertaking that catapulted my own starting anew into a marriage with Sandra.

Once we married, Sandra started another support group (the woman is relentless in improving the human condition!), that of ‘recreating marriage with the same old spouse.’  Eventually, I assumed sole leadership of the starting anew group, lasting ten years, while I also co-led the marriage group with Sandra.

Both groups had similar formats of weekly two-hour meetings devoted to a specific topic or issue around living more effective lives.  Examples of topics we covered included understanding personality differences and their effect on relationships, developing problem solving skills, managing conflict with grace and applying active listening skills in the quest for intimacy.  In addition, we conducted weekend-long retreats once or twice during each calendar year.

Two retreats with the starting anew group stand out for me.  The first one involved sharing joys and sorrows, with pre-retreat instructions to bring memorabilia related to each area.  I had no hint of what would result in such a theme-driven weekend.  With little or no setting of the retreats’ stage, one after another of the participants revealed their enduring joys and imbedded sorrows, none of which had ever been previously shared in the group.  Many tears were shed and much spontaneous comforting was provided throughout the sharing.  There is something special about sharing the most vulnerable aspects of ones’ life, be they happy or sad, which also creates group intimacy and unbridled support.  It was a challenge for me to remain the detached leader.

Another retreat for the starting anew group involved an assignment to pair off for one hour, and go for a walk in the nearby wooded area.  Each person had an opportunity to speak for thirty minutes without interruption.  To have the rare opportunity to speak and have a listener non-judgmentally reflect back what they heard became a special experience for most of the participants.  My witnessing their return to the starting point, some arm-in-arm, exuding tender, loving connections, served as validation of the value of the exercise, while confirming the merits of creating interpersonal intimacy.  ‘Love changes everything, how we live and how we die.’  The retreat was a success, if only based on that one event.

Co-leading the marriage group became a laboratory for Sandra and me to sharpen and strengthen our own emerging marriage, as we had to prepare the material for each session and retreat and then model or demonstrate applications of the skills in front of the group.   In many ways our modeling showed that two people who had failed in previous marriages could muster new learning and the courage to give it another try, thus buoying the spirits and hopes of the participants.  Being witness to marital unions becoming renewed and transformed became a priceless reward for the offerings we created.  Plus, our own marriage gained traction for a long-term and enriching ride.

To this day, I live in gratitude for the opportunities I’ve had to be witness to stirrings which often created renewal and hope for others to live more vibrantly. The memories remain vivid and keep contributing to my life in the process.  The key learning derived from effecting personal growth in others was for me to be authentic and possess the willingness to take risks in being vulnerable.  

Sailing in the East Caribbean

Sailing in the East Caribbean

by Nate Bender

3/4/2016

Sailing, such as in a boat, caught my full attention in 1987, in the 44^th year of my life. Our street neighbors and evolving friends in Cleveland, Ohio were catalysts and Lake Erie became the launching place of my enrapture.  Preceding this time, during our courtship phase, Sandra invited me to take a sailing course, which prepared me for what was to come later.  She was a walking, talking sailor, further adding to her alluring ways!  

Purchase of a 27’ O’Day sailboat, with its shared ownership with Bob and Judy Charlick, lifted my sailing interests to a whole new level.  We named her Dayenu (‘this in itself is sufficient’), a name triggered by our co-owners with ties to the Jewish religion.

Day-sailing excursions and annual treks across the lake to Canada allowed my sailing skills and visions to expand.  In short order I dreamed of ‘blue water’ sailing, including circumnavigating on the worlds’ great waters and living aboard for a year or more.  And, it became ever-so-clear the long-distance dream had to wait until I won the lottery or maybe upon retirement.

In the ever-resident conversations around all things related to sailing, a new opportunity was introduced…..blue water sailing in the Caribbean waters.  I could have a taste of my dream from a weeklong excursion in 1989.  Sandra and I teamed up with two other couples, our boat partners Bob and Judy and Ron and Joan Kohn to bare-boat out of the island of Saint Vincent in the East Caribbean’s windward islands region of the Grenadines.

The Grenadines consist of the islands of Saint Vincent, Bequia, Canouan, Mustique and Union, and a group of smaller (many unpopulated) islands. Save for Saint Vincent, all are low-lying, ringed by coral reefs, and famed for some of the best beaches and sailing conditions.  By bare-boating, we were our own captains and navigators, and responsible for provisioning, which involved purchasing and preparing food and drink for six people for a week long period.

Our rental boat was big (44’ long), heavy and forgiving, allowing ample space, safety and comfort for all.  A southern sailing course with island hopping was the obvious agenda, which allowed anchoring for over night stays.  Our first day launch was momentous.  Once we encountered the expected 25-knot breezes out of the east and had set the sails, my exhilaration resonated to the depths of my bones!  I was home on the rolling waters, as if in nature’s bosom, safe and secure. 

Avoiding the details of frolicking with my wife, I will instead describe a few exciting adventures….one involving running aground….one snorkeling in the Tobago Cay amid the most beautiful coral reefs imaginable…. and one involving spear fishing with a native man off the island of Canouan.

Running aground required an unexpected and exciting rescue effort.  Shortly after setting off from Palm Island, we came to a jolting stop on top of a coral reef.  We had misread our map.  Our boat began to list (precariously leaning to one side), creating confusion and a panic-like state around what to do next.  Seemingly out of nowhere came a powerboat with an older white man and two black natives aboard.  With little consultation, John, the white guy, dived into the water beneath our boat to assess the problem.  He resurfaced bearing a bleeding arm and a plan for recovery.  In rapid fashion, a long rope was affixed to our boat and his, to pull our boat backwards off of the reef.  Offers to compensate his efforts were rejected, endearing me to the generous spirit of the people of the Grenadines.

Tobago Cay presented a memorable opportunity for me to snorkel in its shallow waters.   The waters held a wide array of fish swimming in and around the most beautiful coral I have ever encountered.  The blue hue of the warm water complemented the white sands and surrounding colorful fish, adding a special luster to the experience.  I felt deeply connected to the purity and beauty of nature that had not been altered by human endeavors.

The last memory to be captured involved spear fishing.  Anchored in a cove on the west side of Canouan Island, Judy and I welcomed an invitation to join a local native in his spear fishing efforts, including landing some lobster.  We watched him dive into the depths while we hovered near the surface.  Dive after dive and catch after catch, we marveled at his lung capacity as he secured his catches in his swimsuit.  He gave the entire catch to us, making for multiple meals to be had.  He even fileted the fish for us.  Furthermore, he wanted no compensation.  It seemed like he benefited as much from the gifting as we did in being the receivers.

Our story telling was rich and exuberant as we indulged ourselves in a concluding meal and reminisced about what each of us had gained from our sailing experience.  I took the Caribbean glow back Cleveland, infusing it into my personal and professional undertakings.  My life had been enriched beyond any dreams!

I am including a song by Peter Mayer that has become my theme song:

Blue Boat Home

by Peter Mayer

Though below me I feel no motion

standing on these mountains and plains.

Far away from the rolling ocean

still my dry land heart can say:

‘I’ve been sailing all my life now,

never harbor or port have I known. 

The wild universe is the ocean I travel

and the earth is my blue boat home.’

Sun my sail and moon my rudder

as I ply the starry sea,

leaning over the edge in wonder,

casting questions into the deep.

Drifting here with my ship’s companions,

all we kindred pilgrim souls,

making our way by the lights of the heavens,

in our beautiful blue boat home.

I give thanks to the waves upholding me,

hail the great winds urging me on,

greet the infinite sea before me,

sing the sky my sailor’s song:

‘I was born upon the fathoms,

never harbor or port have I known.

The wide universe is the ocean I travel,

and the earth is my blue boat home.’

My Outward Bound Experience

My Outward Bound Experience

5/6/2016

by Nate Bender

Since my 40^th birthday I have evolved into defining my aging progressions in five-year increments, much like marking our high school reunions on five-year intervals.  Imbedded in these logs are milestones and memorable undertakings.  This life story takes the reader on such an experience.

In 1993 I turned fifty, and commemorated that mark by running in a Thanksgiving Day five-mile Turkey Trot race starting and finishing at the Cleveland, Ohio Lake Front airport.  For me, each mile I covered represented one decade of my life, along with building an ever-increasing appetite for our turkey day feast awaiting my return home!  That race became the last one for me to run, as my aging knees said ‘enough!’

Five years later when I turned 55, I had a desire to yet again test my man hood while revitalizing any youth left in my body, and signed up for a 10-day Outward Bound sailing experience in Maine.   This sailing adventure became doubly challenging on a primitive twin mast, open cockpit wooden sailboat.  This 30 foot boat had to house fifteen people for 9 days, as one day and night was spent on an island.  Food provisions for the trip’s duration had to be stored in the confines of the boat.  And, we had to find space for each of our gear bags containing personal items and foul weather garments.  Additionally, we had to find space for maybe ten wooden oars, to be employed in the absence of wind.  Oh, and the boat had to accommodate a primitive five-gallon-bucket-toilet, barely made private in front of the main mast head in the bow of the boat.  I can attest to the fact space on and in the boat was fully used!

These traditional/primitive center-board sailboats required teamwork and leadership.  On an open boat with no cabin and no engine, we lived in close proximity to each other, using only wind and oars as propulsion. We rotated responsibilities, from cooking to steering to navigating, tasks which developed learning the crafts of maneuvering under sail, coastal navigation, rowing and living aboard a small open boat.  At night, we slept on deck, on top of our assembled oars and other stable parts of the boat, comforted by rubber mattresses and under a tarp.  We adhered to a night-time schedule for shared anchor watch duties, often under brilliant night skies.  Since I was usually the first to bed down at night, I frequently chose the 4:00 to 6:00 AM watch to catch the rising sun, offering time for reflection on the life I had lived and the course I was on.

I was the oldest member, by far, of the group, save for one of the two leaders being close behind at age 50.  No natural social bonding occurred in the beginning, so I sought to merely fit in and carrying out whatever duties were required.  The group was coed, ranging in ages 18 to 38, making for some interesting sights around the calls of nature, marked by the women extending their bare behinds over the boat’s edge to relieve themselves, in lieu of using the ‘porta-potty’ on board.

The first day launch was memorable in that the wind was brisk and sailing on Penobscot Bay’s frigid waters was exhilarating, which filled my senses in the process.  Within the first hour after setting out, we encountered a strong rain storm, complete with stiff winds, that required  reefing of the sails and donning our rubber foul weather gear.  Two of the teenage women soon became unsettled by all the discomfort, and began to cry and plead for a course withdrawal.

Two scenarios stand out for me over the course’s duration: One involved daily ‘baths’ in frigid waters by jumping over board for a quick dip.  Invigorating it was and cleansing too!  In the course of getting back in the boat I rejected all efforts for assistance, instead, I relied on my own strength and tactics.  For this, I received kudos from the leaders, which validated my still possessing some youthful vigor.  During our day-long stay on Hurricane Island the bathing task was made a little more challenging….we had to jump into the still frigid waters from a twenty foot high platform on shore.  It was shocking having to descend deeper into the water! 

The second scenario involved each of us experiencing solitude on the island.  We were dispensed a shelter-half, a bottle of water and a partial loaf of bread, then instructed to find a site suitable for foraging wild foods and a twelve-hour over-night stint.  This encounter with myself connected me to the realization that I’m at peace with myself around the life I had lived.  I also discovered evidence that I needed to retire in five years and venture into a new unknown!

Upon our return to the starting point in Rockland, I had time to bid farewell to my fellow sojourners, complete with exchanging strong embraces and receiving acknowledgements of my humanity. The departure became tender and validated the merits of undergoing an Outward Bound adventure.  My manhood was still in tact!

In the bus ride back to Portland I was filled with an insatiable craving for a lobster dinner!  So what did I do?  I feasted on a double order serving of such!