Sailing in Lagos
Spoiler: I survived
The Lagos bridge that was briefly closed due to “emergency repairs” (which were set to last a month and a half) has re-opened in only a few days’ time, despite none of the repairs being done. In fact, they actually completed a full day of demo, before realizing that the city of almost 17 million people would be in complete grid lock without it. The Nigerian government’s strategy: patch the demo work and pretend all is well.
Besides massive safety concerns, this was good news for me, and by extension, you, because the sailing excursion which was voted as my next “Day in the Life” adventure required that bridge to be open. Thus, the sailing excursion was planned.
My friend Taya was kind enough to bring me as her guest to the Lagos Yacht club, a place I would never have guessed exists. Taya, however, had found it on the internet before she had even moved here, because she’s always wanted to learn to sail.
The first thing I noticed upon walking into the Yacht club was the smell of paint thinner which was so strong I worried it may pickle my eyeballs. As we walked in further, there were indeed several men painting both inside and outside of the building. This is the thing about Nigeria. No matter where you go or how much you think you’re going to find a moment of escape, it has a way of always reminding you of where you are. Luckily, sailing takes place on the water, so the horrible fumes were short lived.
Prior to going on the boat, my biggest fear was getting water on my skin. Being that we were sailing in the Lagos Lagoon, the water would without a doubt be filled with pollution and various diseases. However, the wind was so strong, that I quickly accepted I would absolutely be getting wet and said a quick, yet hopefully sufficient, prayer that the many vaccines we took before arriving here would be effective.
My fears shifted to a bigger issue.
The small sailboat, even as it was docked, was rocking back and forth aggressively.
“Are we about to be seasick?” I asked Taya.
“Are you going to be seasick?” She asked back, offering me no reassurance.
Our instructor was unworried about any of this and pushed us away from the dock. He said his name was “Matthew,” (which is pronounced more like “Mat-chew” here) and that he’d been sailing for 17 years. At least that part was reassuring.
He had just instructed me to sit on one edge, and we were moving quickly when the boat began to tilt. I watched as the sail dipped closer and closer to the water. Matthew yelled for us to lean back off the boat. He pointed to some ropes that, apparently, we were supposed to loop our feet through while we leaned back to keep us from falling overboard. I’m not sure if it was Christopher Columbus, or who came up with this idea, but using your own body as a resource to keep from capsizing felt like a bad plan.
As I was trying to extend far back off the edge of the boat, it occurred to me how very similar this part of sailing was to our reformer Pilates class. For the first time ever, I was grateful for our instructor Dapo and all the near impossible moves he made us do to strengthen our core while he happily danced and sang to Rihanna. “Don’t fall off the reformer!” Dapo occasionally warns the class, as my abs ache. On occasion, he will even threaten to throw his croc shoe at us if we stop the exercise, something that would be law-suit worthy in America.
Just as I was beginning to feel confident in my core strength, the biggest fear of all came to mind.
“Matthew…do crocodiles and sharks live in this water?!”
Matthew literally laughed at this and assured me there were no crocodiles or sharks in the harbor. However, dear reader, I’ve since done some Google research and can confidently say this answer was incorrect. While crocodiles don’t “live” in saltwater, there are some that can swim in it, and of course they live off the coast of Nigeria. Numerous shark species live in these waters too.
Finally, Matthew decided we had sailed far enough, and it was time to turn the boat around, or “tack”. Tacking is the most stressful thing, because it requires the sails to change directions which means people inside the boat must simultaneously do two things at once.
First, and most importantly, you need to duck because a giant heavy metal bar carrying the main sail will be crossing over the boat. If this hits your head it will put you into a coma or worse, into the water with all the crocodiles and sharks. And secondly, people on the boat who know what they’re doing, need to be pulling on and changing the position of multiple ropes which are located in all sorts of hidden places on the boat.
I feel certain tacking was the entire motivation for the invention of motorized boats. Without needing to tack, sailing can be quite enjoyable. Tacking, however, feels like someone pulled a fire alarm at Sunday brunch. Everything is great and then boom: we’re all ducking and crawling to the other side of the boat, Matthew is yelling things in a thick Nigerian accent that I can’t understand, my friend Taya is apologizing for letting go of an important rope that she “always forgets about.”
On the way back to the dock, Taya insisted that I take the helm, which is just a stick that looks unimportant but actually steers the boat. This job looked easier than dealing with the ropes, so I was grateful for the assignment. However, I was pretty horrible at steering the boat. The stick is not intuitive and seems to take the boat the opposite way that I feel it should take it. Matthew soon told me he’d take over, and I was relieved of my duties.
When we arrived back at the dock, we were soaked. Thankfully, I had brought a change of clothes, even though Taya’s message from the day before said we may get “a bit wet.”
After changing, Taya and I ended the evening with dinner and a glass of wine while we watched her daughter do her sailing lesson. This part was pretty nice. As a whole, I’d give this experience a 9/10.
If you’d told me when we first moved here, I’d go sailing in Lagos, I would’ve laughed at you. But a year and a half of living abroad has taught me to try the things. Even, and especially the things you’re scared of, unsure of and don’t know if you’ll like. This is a wonderful part of the adventure of being alive.