“No amount of motion on deck affects me, but battened down below with the charts and books, bending over the table, and clinging to it for support in a small vessel sailing 7 knots in the trough of a heavy sea, is a position that would severely try the arch-enemy himself, even without the additional discomfort of wet clothes, and privations of all sorts that poor mortals have to endure” Down Channel. R.T.McMullen, first published 1869, Grafton Books, London, 1986.
Mal de mer, also known as seasickness, is a vile problem for some, never a problem for others. As with all medical disorders this must be partly nature (your mum had it) and partly nurture (your mum vomiting up gave you ideas of doing the same, helped along by over-anxious parents). It can be avoided by sticking to the canals, but that is a bit dull. So what to do?
- Do not go down below when at sea if at all possible, if you do then quickly lie down on a warm and comfortable berth as near the centre of the boat and as low down as possible, close your eyes and go to sleep.
- Take any preventive medication (stugeron, scopaderm patches or whatever) an hour before you set off, certainly well before you are likely to feel sick, but beware drowsiness.
- Do not expect to be sick (tricky), look at the horizon, keep warm and dry, take the helm.
- Some find dry biscuits help, or rusk-like things, Bath Olivers if you are posh, others swear by ginger.
- If you are apprehensive, say about leaving the harbour, this will make seasickness worse.
If you do get sick:
- Go down below, lie down, get warm, use a bucket, go to sleep if you possibly can, and pray for landfall.
- Don't get dehydrated, take frequent,small sips of what you fancy (other than alcohol),.
- Vomit over the lee side please (that is the downhill side).
If you fall into the sea:
To conserve heat, cross your arms across your chest and tuck your knees up under your chin (much easier if you're wearing a buoyancy aid, which you should be). If you're with two or more others, then huddle together in a circle facing inwards so that the sides of your bodies are close together to conserve heat (may not work in rough seas and could just crash you into each other).
Medicine has clearly moved on from the late 17th century when Martin Martin wrote about the Hebridean cure for "faintness of spirits". The patient was laid face down on an anvil when "the smith takes a big hammer in both hands, and making his face all grimace, he approaches the patient; and then drawing his hammer from the ground, as if he designed to hit him with his full strength on the forehead, he ends in a feint, else he would be sure to cure the patient of all disease; but the smith .... has a dexterity of managing the hammer with discretion; though at the same time he must do it so as to strike terror in the patient; and this. they say, has always the desired effect" (A Description of the Western Isles of Scotland circa 1695. Martin Martin, Birlinn, Edinburgh, 1994). If this is really true, then the diagnosis might have been what we would now call 'functional', in other words there are symptoms but no recognisable disease. Some would think the patient is malingering but mostly the view is that the patient is not, and that in some way the unconscious mind has persuaded the conscious mind that the symptoms are real. Indeed, to the patient they are indeed very real. This 17th century treatment was what some would label as 'a kick up the backside', and may still be favoured by ignorant and unsympathetic doctors.