Sailing with Dad

We had a great time with my folks on Marco Island in 1983. We spent a lot of time on the beach. There was a little kiosk just up the beach from us that had sailboats to rent. All they had were some little sunfish and catamaran sailboats sitting on the sand. This was perfect because the sunfish was equal to my sailing ability and the catamarans were well beyond my ability. The sunfish would carry two people comfortably.

In the several years prior to this vacation Jean and I had been sailing with our good friends, Annie and Earl, who kept a 22 foot sailboat at Lake Hartwell. They’d taught us the basics and allowed us to sail it, well, many times would be an overstatement, and several times would be an understatement; the truth lies, well, for the truth you should be reading some other blog.

Each day I noticed Dad looking at the sailboats. I could tell that Dad really wanted to go, but he didn’t know anything about sailing. I thought I knew something about sailing, at least more than Dad, but was still a bit tentative since I’d never “soloed”. Sailing with an expert on board is one thing; sailing on your own is a whole different experience. I eventually asked Dad if he’d like to rent a Sunfish and take it out into the Gulf of Mexico.

The wind was blowing parallel to the beach so I was proposing a simple sail straight out from the shore into the Gulf, and straight back. I wasn’t going to be tacking into the wind repeatedly. There would be only one turn. I could either turn into the wind or fall off of the wind to make the turn. It would be the only moment of our journey requiring a small amount of sailing ability. I was fairly confident I could handle it. I’d analyzed all of this prior to proposing the sail.

There was a strong wind blowing that day and there was a real possibility of capsizing. I figured the two of us as ballast would help keep the boat upright, and if we did capsize, there were two of us to get it back upright.

Up to this point neither one of us had said anything about having any knowledge about sailing. There was a strong wind, the waves were about three feet high, we were about to sail out into the ocean, this wasn’t Lake Como Wisconsin, we were doing it in the smallest sailboat you’ve ever seen, and my dad was willing to get into the sailboat without knowing anything about sailing. This was typical Dad, and family, bravado. “What we don’t know we will figure out as we go along” ought to be the family motto. Dad was born with more bravery than good sense. We were going to be okay because I knew how to sail, but Dad didn’t know that when he enthusiastically agreed to go!

As we were climbing into the boat Dad said to me, “You know I don’t know how to sail, right?” I told him, “I got it covered, Dad.” His reply was “Good”, and I think I heard an undertone of relief in the reply. I told him where to sit and what to do (nothing) and went over our course of sail and a few contingency plans before getting underway.

As we headed out into the Gulf our progress was slow. We were bucking waves the entire way out. The wind was strong but the little boat just lumbered against the waves. There weren’t any trees or houses passing by like there is on land, or on a lake, so there was no way to judge our speed, or if we were making any progress at all. The trip out was rather dull.

Still, it was one of those postcard picture perfect days for a sail. We had a clear blue sky, and a clear green-blue ocean, and we were on an adventure. It was a special moment for me, as a son, to take my father sailing. Where Dad had always been the leader and expert of our adventures in the past, it was my turn to lead this time around. I think all kids seek their parent’s approval and admiration. As kids we do things to make our parents happy. Dad was happy that day and I was secretly pleased with myself.

We sailed into the Gulf to the limits of my confidence. When the people on shore were getting tiny and I could barely see the sails at the rental kiosk I decided it was time to head for home. That was the limit of my confidence. We made the 180 degree turn for shore without incident.

Now that the waves were with us we were really moving fast. We were sailing faster than the waves. We sailed up the back of one wave and then surfed even faster down the front side. It was fun and exciting, but it also scared the hell out of me! It was impossible not to hoot, holler, and give out an occasional “yee-haw” like we were riding a horse. And then, before we knew it, our trip back to shore was over.

Fond memories.