Sailing

Not being in school at the moment, I find myself with a bit more leisure time. I've taken up water coloring. I want to take up sailing again. Having lived in a beach city all my life, I was no stranger to boats. I remember when I was about nine or so, my dad took me on this trip on a replica pirate ship. We went out about a mile from shore, and passed by two other pirate ships filled and manned by actors in pirate costume, with loud but hollow bangs from their canons, and pirates swinging from their mast onto the other ships, and do sword fights. It captured my young minds imagination. I tried reading Treasure Island after that, but didn't get past half way. For the more adult among us, the late great William F. Buckley Jr. wrote an entertaining trilogy of his sailing adventures. Something about the sea and being on a ship captures many people's imagination. You don't see many children on sea, but rather grown men, and grown men having fun (although, I was told recently that the two happiest days of a boat owner is the day he buys his boat and the day he sells it). I never had reason to get involved in what seemed to be an activity naturally restricted to the bourgeois, but as many of my stories begin, there's this girl... 

Her name was Sydney, and I had a crush on her all throughout high school. She was a light skinned brilliant blonde slender girl, likely eons smarter than I. I don't know exactly what attracted me to her. We didn't have many mutual friends, and we had none of the same classes, but I admired her from a distance. I had learned that she was a sailor of some sort and it's natural to look into the interests and hobbies of people you like, and I looked into it. I began to read up and learn what I could about racing sailboats so that in the off chance I ever did strike up casual conversation with this blonde bombshell, we might have something other than small talk. Of course, that never happened.

My interest in boats and sailing eventually outgrew its initial motivations and it became a genuine interest of mine. I looked up how to sail to Tahiti, and I remember being excited when I learned that the Transpacific Race would start in Long Beach. Around the same time, a nautical store opened in downtown Long Beach, and I would go and browse their books and learn random bits of navigation technology. I got it into my head that I could live on a boat, and fish for food or something. Sometimes I still do want to live on a boat, but that's silly. 

When I met my then significant other Mayra, and I told her about this crazy idea of mine of sailing the Pacific, she encouraged me and got excited with me, perhaps even more so than me. I bought a map of the world, and glued yarn onto it, to lay down possible routes. Down the coast to Argentina, and then to South Africa, up to Europe, through the Suez Canal, down to India, Indonesia, Australia, New Zealand, Tahiti, and back home to Hawaii. I mean, it was impossible, but, two teenage high schoolers dying to get away, why not? It was a dream, and it had a strange anchor (heh) in our relationship. No matter how many times her and I got into a fight, we would still say, "But we will still sail the world together." 

But she didn't last. She met some guy, and left my life, and did so for a few years (we're great friends now). So, alone with my crazy idea to sail the world, and no one to share the excitement with. My first year of college, I saw that a sailing class was offered, and I registered. It was the most amazing experience. We met at the beach every day, and were in the water every day (save the first). We learned how to set up a boat (about a dozen things to properly set up for in a 8 foot dinghy), how to navigate, how to properly dock it, and perhaps the most fun part, how to flip over a capsized boat. That was our third meeting. We went in in the boat, flipped over the boat so that the mast was completely underwater, and had to figure out, with another partner, how to flip it back up. We learned the vocabulary, the different type of knots, racing tactics, gauging for wind, traffic rules (yes, there are traffic laws!) and I did this with no friends. And it wasn't the best experience I could have had. 

I suppose it was my own way of telling myself that if Mayra ever came back, I would be prepared to act on this dream of ours. It was my way of refusing to let go. My kind of denial. I made no friends in that class, though you would think I would have. I was always partnered up with the awkward guy in class. He wasn't the greatest captain (I preferred skipper anyways. Actually working the sails and pulling the ropes was the most fun for me) and he wasn't the best student. I tried evangelizing to him once, when we were out on the water on a low wind day (forty minutes with a guy and nowhere to go, he was basically forced to hear my spiel) but objected for the bizarre reason that he couldn't have sex with...young girls. 

There was a memorable moment about halfway through the semester. I had entered the garage of the sailing center to fetch more life jackets, and in the back was this enormous portrait of Sydney, in her element, leaning out of a boat, body completely parallel to the water, trying to balance it out so that the sails could capture more wind. Of course she was. She's made a name for herself and so must be a local celebrity with the other sailors. I wasn't there for her anymore, but it was nice to be reminded that she was the initial reason. 

I remember on more than one occasion, when we left the bay, dolphins would come up to us and swim beside us. It was amazing to be within an arms reach of these (fast) creatures. Our instructor, who was on a motor boat with a megaphone, insisted that we do NOT touch them. How badly I wanted to disobey! 

I hadn't returned to the sailing center until a few years later, when I took this other girl on a date there. She wasn't impressed, and she didn't like it. I don't know why. Maybe she was too urban. Maybe she was intimidated by all the ropes she had to pull and certain times for certain functions. Maybe she thought that I would take her sailing, she would leisurely sit back and soak in the sun. I dunno. But she didn't take a liking to it, and having taking a liking to her, I was more than a bit upset with her.

Having sailing skill isn't common, so when my guy friends would talk about marriage proposals (yes, we DO talk about that) we all thought it would be amazing for me to do something relating to that. I had thought about having a pirate fight like the one that I witnessed as a kid. There would be a few boats, and we would be armed with water guns and water balloons. After accepting surrender from an opponent boat, I would board, and propose, with something like, "I may be a pirate looking for booty, but today, the only treasure that I am hunting for is your heart." I still think that would be a cool idea, but, I don't know many women who would be down for something like that. 

I haven't been sailing since, but I do love it. I would love to get back out there.