Perhaps there's a third alternative to the simple "Go or Go Not" choice which this thread implies.
I learnt a great lesson about humility from my first ocean crossing
in a sailing vessel.
had (on the face of it) little to be humble about.
What's more: We thought there was a chance we were the best-prepared boat ever to leave that harbour.
We were farewelled by so many boats that you could just about have walked ashore over them.
It was one of two Round the World race
boats entered from NZ that year, both sailing halfway round the world
to the start of the race
, and the other skipper
was successfully positioning his campaign as the 'underfunded underdog', taking potshots at the boat I was sailing on.
So, when the main alternator regulator
packed up that same evening before we'd even reached blue water
, given that we had spares, redundancy and backups, the obvious thing to do was carry on dauntless. But the skipper was troubled by our inability to explain the failure.
We pulled in at Great Barrier. We stripped everything out. The skipper was at the forefront, working harder, getting dirtier, testing hypotheses and gathering data.
Tech people flew out and confirmed the problem was not caused by the unit which had failed -- exactly what the skipper had intuited. Our spares would have failed in quick succession.
We sailed back to Kawau to be closer to skilled help, which landed in a floatplane and tied off our transom.
The press (and the competing campaign) had a field day. "Tough maxi
fails in attempt to leave Hauraki Gulf" (I'm making that up; I can't remember the actual headlines)
Our skipper never once mentioned it; it was simply not on his radar
. I doubt he spent five minutes thinking about it.
Other people might have looked at our 'schedule' and our 'reputation' and made a different choice, but I learned from him that the exigencies of the sea are at a different level altogether from such mundane considerations.