I went out on my father's old boat today. It's been 10 years, and it's under a new owner now, but it was the same feeling.

We were out of place over this vastness. A 17-foot Boston Whaler transported to this place that humans shouldn't be. Leaving the mooring field wasn't difficult, but the second the captain opened up the throttle into the empty bay, I felt the bow rise and the waves knock against the hull.

So little of the boat was still in the water, just the engine and the aft, and I felt like any turn would send us toppling. Just thinking about it now I get scared and feel a sickness in my stomach .

There was still a joy in it, after I got used to the fear. It was a good day, and I can't help but think that it's a good life we live. At least in the grand scheme of things.