The Doctor is In...Part I

Why sail?

Ask a hundred different sailors and you'll get a hundred different answers. For some it's a quest for knowledge, for others it's the search for adventure and for others it's the drive of competition.  Challenging, solitude, ability, wonder, escape, acceptance, self-satisfaction, the list could go on and on and I'm sure for most it is a combination of some or all the things listed.

But I can only speak for myself.  When I look back to when I began to where I am now in my sailing and my life, the essence of sailing has had different meanings.  As I grew as a person, as a way of thinking and living in the world, my sailing grew and reflected that time in my life.

Starting out was a quest for knowledge and the possibilities that lay ahead.  I read and learned more about sailing than I sailed.  The main reason for that was I didn't own a boat and was always at the whim of those who did, or needed me for crew to invite me.  The one thing I could control was I knew I had to be ready when the call came.

Then as life happens, I found myself alone and something inside me knew it was time to take that next step forward and become the captain of my own ship, both metaphorically and realistically. It was then that I purchased Carolyn Anne a 24 ft Helms 24. That boat became a floating therapist's couch. A place were I could pour out my grief and anger, my hate and sadness. Fueled by alcohol and a 15 knot wind, I spent countless hours alone, purging years of frustration and mistakes. 

On Lake Murray

Slowly cleansing my soul of the pain I had caused and endured for the sake of my own selfishness. Bear in mind that all the while I'm trying to heal that broken heart I am continuing the same behavior that got me there in the first place. I couldn't help it, I just didn't know how to fix it. I didn't have the tools or the skill set to make it right. 

The one thing I could do was sail. I was always in control and went where I wanted, when I wanted and my boat never let me down. Ken Delson's words kept coming back to me when he gave me the tiller for the first time and I asked him, "Where am I supposed to go?" and he replied, "Anywhere you want." I had my boat, I had my motivation and I had permission. It was all I needed...or so I thought.

With every tack and jib, every white knuckle close haul and every hour spent floating and sweating I felt I was getting closer to understanding what was important; the wind in your face and the pull of the tiller...or so I thought.

Several years later a very wise friend of mine, Ebon, who I met in the mountains of Barnardsville, NC told me to "always make sure you are running to something and not away from anything".  I didn't have that bit of wisdom and don't know that I would have heeded it, but my search took me to Charleston. In search of more wind, more knowledge, more sail and of course, more sanity. Within two days I had connected with CORA (Charleston Ocean Racing Association) and within a week had a spot on the crew of a J30 called Rhumbline. I committed myself to racing every weekend and Wednesday night, it became my Sunday School and Prayer Meeting. Landing on Rhumbline put me in touch with three people who touched my life that effects me to this day.  I've said before, if you want to learn to sail, race; if you want to learn to be a sailor, cruise. So I raced.

Crossing the deck on tack (for the 1000th time)

Starting line

Bill was the owner and skipper of Rhumbline, a quiet, calm guy (most of the time) an excellent teacher and fiercely competitive. Having raced collegiality, Bill had the knowledge I so badly wanted and so I picked his brain and watched and learned. He loaned me videos on spinnaker setup and sets. 

He would meet me on his boat some evenings and we would do "walk-throughs" on what he wanted and needed to be done given certain commands and certain scenarios. He explained sail trim and boomvangs, cunninghams and where to sit on a spinnaker run. 

Bill and me coming up th Cooper River after a race.

Spinnaker trim on the ride home.

But like golf, explaining how to swing the club correctly and actually swinging the club correctly are two different things. I still remember his instructions, well some of them anyway, and I'm still trying to get them right.

Then there was Ken and Alison.  I sailed with Ken and met his wife Alison through him. Ken is just fun to be around. Smart, quick-witted, knew what he was doing on a boat, was serious about winning but never seemed to take it seriously. He made it fun. I was always a littled disappointed when I showed up to race and found that Ken wasn't going to crew. We had the opportunity to sail our own boats together a few times. Whether my Helms 24 or his Catalina 25 neither mattered because it was just about hanging out.

Ken, Alison and me at a dinner hosted by Bill

Through the after-race socials I became acqauinted with Ken's wife, Alison. She was to me the epitome of grace and strength, compassion and leadership. She was always willing to listen but at the same time would call you out and challenge you if what you said or did, didn't make sense. It was through her actions and behavior that she demonstrated the things that are important in having a relationship. 

Bear in mind that while I was observing and witnessing these lessons that would not become evident to me for many years, I continued to live out my life and make decision that were completely self-destructive. Decisons that hurt, not only me but those I came in contact with. Decisions that would bring more pain than I thought I could handle and blessings that can only come from God. 

I've lost contact with Bill and that's OK, I hope he's still sailing and sharing his love and knowledge of the sport. I'm lucky enough to call Ken and Alison my dear friends. I haven't seen them in person for years, but that's alright too, because like any true friendship I don't have to see them or talk to them everyday to know that friendship still exists.

My time with Ken and Alison, both on the boat and off, has taught me something that I now realize it so much more important yet completely intertwined with sailing. A common vein or shared concept that plays itself out in every interaction, whether it be in the jest of a conversation or the trim of a jib. The tone and inflection of your voice or the genoa car position and the twist in the leech, they all try to acheive the same results... 

Fair Winds and Following Seas