The Sea And Me
January in the North Sea is not for the faint hearted.
The cold cuts deeper. The decks are slick with ice. Snow blows sideways, driven hard by a wind that never seems to rest. Hands crack, oilskins stay wet for days, and sleep comes in short, broken spells. This is the season that tests you, not just as a fisherman, but as a human being.
Yet winter also teaches lessons you won’t learn anywhere else.
The first rule of rough weather is simple: don’t fight the sea.
The North Sea doesn’t care how experienced you are, how tough you think you are, or how much work needs doing. In winter, she demands patience and respect. Move slower. Think twice. Secure everything, then secure it again.
Rough seas punish shortcuts.
What keeps you safe isn’t bravery, it’s discipline.
Cold steals strength before you realise it.
In winter, survival is about layers, routine, and movement:
Change wet gloves whenever you can
Eat hot food, even when you don’t feel hungry
Keep moving, standing still is when the cold wins
A hot drink shared on deck can lift morale more than any speech ever could. Sometimes it’s the small comforts that stop a hard day becoming a dangerous one.
When the sea is running high, don’t think about the whole trip.
Think about the next job.
Secure the gear. Clear the deck. Check the ropes. Then move on to the next task. Rough weather overwhelms those who look too far ahead.
The same is true in life.
If things feel heavy right now (work, money, health, loss) stop looking at the whole storm. Just steady yourself for the next wave.
On long winter trips, silence can be louder than the wind.
A quiet word in the wheelhouse. A joke shouted over the engine noise. A shared memory from warmer days. These things matter more than people admit.
You don’t have to carry everything alone, at sea or ashore.
And if you’re struggling in the wider world right now, know this: needing help doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.
No one works alone in rough seas.
You trust the skipper to read the weather. You trust the crew to have your back when the deck shifts under your feet. And they trust you in return.
Life works the same way. When things are hard, lean on others, and be someone others can lean on. Strength is shared. 💪
Every winter trip feels endless when you’re in it.
But no storm lasts forever.
There will be a moment, often suddenly, when the wind eases, the seas lie down, and the light breaks through the clouds. The wheelhouse warms. The deck steadies. You breathe again.
If you’re reading this and struggling right now, hold on to that truth.
This moment will pass.
You don’t need to see the horizon yet, just stay afloat.
Winter fishing isn’t glamorous. It’s cold, wet, exhausting, and unforgiving. But it builds something solid inside you, patience, resilience, and a quiet confidence that says:
“I’ve been through worse. I can handle this.”
Whether you’re working the decks of a trawler, or just trying to get through a hard season of life, keep going. Take it one wave at a time.
The sea teaches us that survival isn’t about being fearless, it’s about enduring.
And enduring is enough.
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