Since I was a month old, I have been on the water. Born in February, this means that bundled like a moth in a coccoon, I was sailing with my parents in March of 1981. For those who are unaware, sailing season "officially" starts in May...
My dad has owned a few boats. The first one that I sailed on was Whistle Wing and her dinghe was called WWII. We sailed out of the Southern River in Annapolis for the first couple of years and then my dad moved to Arlington, TX where he windsurfed to get out on the water, and then a few years later migrated further west to Long Beach, CA. He had the second boat, Samoset, which was a family name, shipped across the US when he settled. I remember what a big deal that haul was to him.
Sailing on the Pacific Ocean is vastly different than the Chesapeake Bay. Samoset had a centerboard in her keel which was rarely used on the Bay but it was used so often on the Pacific that it actually fell OUT of the keel somewhere in between LA and Avalon, Catalina.
Dad moved to California when I was about six years old... if I remember correctly. We were out sailing ALL THE TIME. He would charter the boat maybe two weekends out of the month and let the charter company use it for sailing lessons during the week but other than that I looked like a Mexican jumping bean from all the time spent on the water during the summers. When I was about 11 we went on a week-long sail all along the Channel Islands. The only time I have ever thrown up from sea-sickness was on that trip. We were sailing from Santa Cruz island to San Nicholas (I think) and we caught the most awesome waves, I mean 15-20 foot troughs, we were surfing in a 32 foot sailboat, under full sail, and it was impossible to navigate out of the current without capsizing the boat basically. I don't remember how fast we were going but it was terrifying and it was nauseating... it also could have been the mayonnaise used on my ham sandwich.
When I started to make friends and was old enough that the friends could come on sailing sleepovers, we would pack four or five girls on the boat PLUS Dad and sail to Catalina for the weekend. We got into so much mischief over there. One time we took the dighe to shore (leaving Dad behind) and made a game to see who could bum more money off of the drunks. My team was totally winning until we were busted by an off-duty cop. Then we decided to try to drive the dighe between the two hulls of a catamaran and got stuck. Dad would film all this on his camcorder: us scooting away on the dighe and returning a half an hour later. He said we were trolling for boys. Girls just wanna have fuh-un. One time we bought henna to dye our hair and neglected to work out the logistics of washing the henna out when three of the four of us had really long hair and only a 25 gallon tank of fresh water. Turned out, I rinsed mine out in the ocean.
Between all of these excursions, we had to get from Point A - Long Beach to Point B - Catalina and so learned how to sail, every man-jack of us. How to sail by the tails on the genoa and the main sail, by compass, and by GPS. How to set and raise an anchor, how to catch a mooring. How to reef a main. How to protect your wenches. How to tail. How to speak sailor: starboard - right, port - left, head - toilet, line - rope, bow - front, stern - back. And a lot of other stuff.
The summer of 1997 was difficult, I didn't return to California until 2009 when I moved there with my bestie Sarah and her family. My Dad moved back to the east coast in 1999. He sold Samoset and left her in Long Beach. Occasionally, he would charter boats on the Chesapeake and I would join him for a couple days. This year, he bought a boat, Beaumaris, from an 81 year-old sailor on the Great Lakes. This boat is 20 years old and has never seen salt water. She finally made it into the Connecticut River in June and I finally got to sail her on Tuesday. It's been a long time since I have been out on the water, and it did actually take me a minute to get my sea-legs back. I never realized how dependent we are on our knees to help balance on a rocking ship. It has helped me build some strength back in my knees from all the running and it felt great.
Dad took off half a day from work and I packed a picnic for onboard. We sailed from Old Saybrook to Plum Gut into Gardiner's Bay and then returned on the flood tide.
Beaumaris handled the 15 knot wind beautifully. We had a broad-reach south across the Long Island Sound and then sailed close-hauled on our return. On the return, the current was with us and the wind was coming from the NE. On a 350 degree course we clocked 8.4 knots at top speed. Not too shabby!
On this coast, tides and currents are especially important, and so we took a bit of time on Tuesday to learn about how to read the tide reference book. We also had a little refresher course on bouys: colors, placements, and avoiding driftwood on the river. so happy to be back on the water!
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