I've always liked the seashore. In 1980 when I lived in Southern California I'd rent a wet suit and head into the surf when there were storms. It would toss me around, up, down, all over and I loved it. I was always a good swimmer and went for the incoming tides. I'm not nearly as strong as an outgoing tide. However, getting offshore is not a place to be without redundant safety measures.

I regard the open ocean as a hostile, uncaring place which doesn't care if you live or die, and will do nothing to help you live. It's an enemy, to be feared, to be guarded against, a protector of hostile elements. I have a similar view of deserts.

I could live in a forest. It's friendly, will provide what's needed for life, I could live on an island and would love the shoreline.

I would love to go to sea by myself in a safe boat, and would have at least two well-provisioned inflatable life boats available as well as appropriate electronic gear. That would be fun. But just the ocean and me, well the ocean is big, powerful, endless and fatal.