Breakfast of Novice Champions

This kid. Give him a topic, a fact- he takes it and creates an order, a phylum and a structure, a series of classifications and rules and rankings- a system, and also an inviting path from one element to the next, complete with color-coded labels. Then he’ll tire of that and superimpose one system onto another, and you’ll find art around the house that details intricate volcanic systems underneath existing city systems and subway stations and their related staircases that also map onto his web of traffic sign knowledge. We once caught him taking practice driver’s ed tests on YouTube just so he could drink in the information about how to understand the systems of the road. To him, I think the rules of things are there just so that he can understand where he can bend and shape and relate them all.

He frequently duels with Emily - physically, but more comfortably for me on the chess board. I found this tucked inside the folds of the board last week- asked him what it was. He created a rating and award system of chess expertise levels, which seemed to be woven in with some sailing inspiration and other frameworks he had on his mind at the time.

What I love most about this is that “novice champion” is the ultimate aspiration in this ranking. (580 points!) While Calvin’s likely just fresh in his evolving understanding of what novice means, I like to think that this wasn’t a mistake, and “novice” really IS the thing to aspire toward.

To be a novice is to be the most open. Expertise blocks you in; it closes you off. Expertise binds you to the proclaimed systems and structures of some dead person who lived three lifetimes before you, and it robs you of your time by binding you to syncing your consistency against said rules.

Don’t get me wrong. I “believe in science” (and also happen to understand that it’s not something to be believed in as one would a deity), but we have to commit to pushing the needle on the boundaries of what we understand- what is procedural and methodically sound. Superimpose the volanic eruptions on top of the railroad tracks. Make a big old mess of it all. Being a novice should be what we hold most dear- especially in 2020. Brene Brown said it best - vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity, and change.

Seeing as how “crew member” and “captain” also come immediately before “monster” status on Calvin’s point sheet, I think my analogy has run its course and risks breakdown, so I’ll pivot abruptly now to the topic of sailing.

Emily - tightening the vang. Montauk, 2020

Our captain (Justin) frequently asks us where we’d like to go when we embark on a trip. Gardiner’s Island today? It’s always the destination, but we never make it there. Most of the time is spent

tacking,

making “boom” puns,

counting jellyfish by 10s while trying to add all of our own separate tallies together dynamically as we go while continuing to count by 10s,

waiting for the 100-foot whale that we all fully expect to emerge out of the water immediately in front of us but never does,

and finding excuses to crawl back and forth from the bow to the stern.

Perhaps you are wondering what the “Breakfast of Novice Champions” is, anyway. Well, back in May, the sun was sucking everything out of me- we had so much more kelp to hang. Never mind that Justin was trying to balance his work calls with helping me, and I was also haphazardly overseeing Calvin’s virtual learning lessons in the living room at the same time, running in every so often to be sure he was still paying attention, dropping tiny mussel shells and brown kelp drips on his work as I hovered over him to check in. I needed an electrolyte boost, so I threw some lemonade, ice, and fresh kelp into the Vitamix. I like to think that it’s the icy lemonade + kelp slush I made earlier this year during the kelp harvest. I’ll never forget the mineral-rich zing and how I felt after I drank it. It’s the kind of thing you drink when you have no idea what you’re doing and the kind of memory blast to all five of your senses that you never forget.

We are so fortunate to have been connected to 10 growers to grow kelp this upcoming season. 200 feet of lines each. 2000 feet of kelp will be in the water later this year, when we all turn our sights on drawing the curtain on this hellish, raw, dark year.

Many of the growers we’ve found who are interested have never grown kelp before. We are doubling down on novice. We are doubling down on “maybe this will work.” We are doubling down on trying new types of line that no one has tried before that aren’t plastic in an effort to reduce ocean pollution. Maybe it won’t work, but we’re going to try. As Emily’s favorite Disney character belts out and what is perhaps my favorite line of any movie: we are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are doubling down on pretty much everything uncomfortable and unknown in this project at this moment. We think it’s exactly the kind of overhaul that this world needs to see more of right now.

10 out of 10 expert traveler monsters (360 points) agree: to be an expert is to be able to do and know your job in your sleep.

We don’t want to be asleep at the tiller.

To be novice is to be awake in every last cell of your past, present and future self. We’re awake, newly and fully.