I never thought the key to understanding myself—or relationships, for that matter—would come from a shipwreck.

Growing up in Maine, tales of shipwrecks were as common as spotting a lobster boat off the coast. These weren’t just stories of disaster but also survival, ingenuity, and the resilience of the human spirit. My favorite was the tale of the Nottingham Galley, wrecked on Boon Island in 1710. The poor crew was stranded on a barren rock in the middle of winter. They had no choice but to rely on each other in ways both resourceful—and, let’s admit, a bit unsettling, if you know how that story ends. (Spoiler: cannibalism was involved. But don’t worry, my inspiration didn’t go that far.)

At first blush, this historic tragedy had little to do with my personal life—or so I thought. I’ll admit this isn’t your typical spark of wisdom, like an epiphany during yoga or a swoon-worthy rom-com moment. But hear me out. As relationships go, ours are often tested when we’re stranded on our own metaphorical rocky islands. And just as those shipwrecked sailors banded together to survive, we too have to learn to navigate the storms in our intimate connections—or face the consequences of being lost at sea.

Here’s what the Nottingham Galley taught me about love, resilience, and finding inspiration in the unlikeliest places.

Surviving the Wreck: When Things Fall Apart

Picture this: The ship is taking on water. You've been navigating calm seas, maybe even enjoying some giggles at the helm, when suddenly… BAM! You hit a reef. You didn’t see it coming. Cue the screaming, the flailing, and the inevitable “I thought you were steering!” moment.

Sound anything like the end of a relationship? Or maybe a doozy of an argument with your partner? Yeah, I thought so.

Everyone faces these figurative shipwrecks. The key difference between enduring a breakup or stormy moment with grace—or at least sanity—versus never setting sail again is in how you handle the fallout. I learned early on that clinging to debris (aka obsessing over what went wrong) gets you nowhere. You’re not going to float serenely to shore holding onto baggage.

Instead, take a note from those shipwrecked sailors: focus on what can be salvaged. Did this argument uncover something deeper about your communication styles? Or maybe your breakup reminded you of the values you hold dear that you don’t want to compromise on next time around.

Like one sailor making a raft out of a deconstructed barrel, figure out how to use the wreck to float again.

Building the Lifeboat: The Importance of Teamwork

Now, being marooned is bad enough. But imagine if the Nottingham Galley’s crew had decided, “You know what? I’m going to build my own fire and keep all the fish to myself.” No one would’ve lasted long.

Relationships—romantic or otherwise—thrive when there’s teamwork. And I’ll admit, I haven’t always been the easiest person to row through life with. My tendency to cling to self-sufficiency like a life preserver once led to a partner joking, “Is this a relationship or a solo voyage? Should I grab an oar or just be grateful for my cabin space?” A playful jab, but it stung because it rang true.

Over time, I realized that “we” work doesn’t mean giving up independence. It just means deciding to row toward the same horizon—communicating what you need, dividing responsibilities, and cheering each other on when someone’s exhausted from paddling (because we all get exhausted sometimes).

So whether it’s divvying up date-night planning or tackling something stickier, like finances or family drama, relationships are built from teamwork. And if you want to stay afloat, don’t be the partner who holes up below deck. (Trust me, no one likes a pouty sailor.)

Weathering the Winter: Resilience in the Tough Times

The winters in Maine can be punishing, but they’re nothing compared to the icy torment those sailors endured on Boon Island. Wrapped in whatever scraps they had, slowly watching their meager supplies dwindle, they faced a choice: give up or soldier on. Sound familiar?

Every long-term relationship will, without fail, go through its tundra-like phases. Those times when passion slides into the icy doldrums, when miscommunication piles up like snowdrifts, or when external stresses threaten to freeze everything solid. These are the times that test your resilience.

The key to surviving is adaptability. What can you do together to keep the fire going? Maybe it’s rekindling romance with a bit of novelty—trying a cooking class, learning to dance, or heck, just laughing hysterically over a terrible attempt at assembling IKEA furniture. And for those times when the cold feels unbearable, lean on your community. Just as the crew relied on each other, reach out to friends or trusted mentors. Your relationship doesn’t exist in isolation. A little external perspective can make a world of difference.

Finding the Shore: Embracing Change

Eventually, every shipwreck story reaches its turning point: the moment someone spots land. But here’s the catch—it’s not the land they set out for. Boon Island wasn’t exactly paradise (unless your idea of bliss is damp rocks and a seabird chorus). Still, for the Nottingham Galley’s crew, it was hope. And hope was enough.

Sometimes in love, we reconcile ourselves to landing somewhere new. For me, this realization came after a breakup I absolutely, positively thought would wreck me. You know the drill: sobbing into Ben & Jerry’s at 2 a.m., swearing off romance because “it’s just not worth the heartache.” But in time, I saw how the experience guided me toward unexpected self-discoveries. It gave me clarity on what I truly wanted in a partner and how I needed to show up differently in future relationships.

When you let go of rigid expectations—whether that’s about a specific person or even how you think a relationship should unfold—you create room for the unexpected. Sometimes that’s better than anything you could have charted in advance.

The Legacy of the Wreck

Years later, Boon Island remains a warning to careless sailors, a cautionary tale in Maine lore. But it’s also an inspiration—a testament to survival, ingenuity, and the stubborn human heart’s refusal to give up. I think about it often, especially when I’m at odds with my own stormy seas (of which there have been several).

So here’s the takeaway: shipwrecks aren’t the end of the journey. They’re a chance to reevaluate, adapt, and forge onward. Whether you’re dealing with a dating disaster or a season of emotional frostbite, remember that you—yes, you—are stronger than you realize. And while the path to connection may not look like calm seas, smooth sailing is overrated anyway. The best stories always begin with a little turmoil.

Take a cue from an ancient Maine shipwreck: trust your resilience, work together, and never stop rowing. Eventually, you’ll find your shore.