Sailing creates sensory addiction
Issue 81 : Nov/Dec 2011
What is it about sailing that so completely captures our hearts, captivates our souls, and enchants us with its magic? I believe this enchantment grows from our sense of touch. When we sail we are constantly in motion. The movement is a form of touch so unique, so intense, that we find ourselves wanting more. We’re never quite satisfied, never quite full. The constant rhythm of sailing makes us feel alive.
Every moment spent sailing is a moment filled with touch. We feel the tiller humming like a thing alive, the boat surging down a following sea. We feel the deck heel as she digs in her shoulder to a freshening breeze, a light rain of spray falling from her bow. We feel the tension of bar-taut sheets straining under the load. And we feel her surfing down big rollers, the bow wave rumbling, a white wake boiling, the decks dipping and rising to the passing swells.
Even below, putting on sea gear, we feel the motion. One hand holds tight as the other struggles to pull on a jacket. All the while the boat is pitching, diving, and rolling. Time slows to a crawl. Finally ready, we make our way aft hand-over-hand to the companionway. Hold firm: one slip and we’ll be airborne.
It’s the wind that touches us most. Anchored off a tropic shore, I’ve felt the wind, gentle as a caress, fall from an open hatch. I’ve felt the fresh, crisp breeze of a spring day that sent me skipping over a northern inland lake. I’ve felt the wind lash my face in black gales of the North Atlantic night. And on the desert shores of the Red Sea I’ve felt hot sand-filled wind burn my eyes like a welder’s torch.
Aloft at sea, taking photos or fixing gear, my hands have ached with the tension of clutching the shrouds in an iron grip. Swinging wildly above the deck in vicious whipping arcs, I’ve been smashed and slammed against the mast. And back on deck, battered and bruised, I’ve felt warm blood trickle down my shins.
My memories of touch aboard are as simple as the welcome glow of a hot coffee cup cradled in chilled hands on a midnight watch. Or the cooling taste of a cold beer, the long passage behind, the anchor safely set, and the sun setting through Pacific atoll palms.
Rowing ashore under a full moon, I’ve felt the pull of the oars, a puff of cool night air brushing my neck. When lying becalmed for a few hours, I have felt the first stirrings of breeze and that gradual, wonderful, almost imperceptible sensation — we’re sailing!
Sailing is not all palm trees and sunsets. Every sailor knows the feeling of aching arms and tired shoulders after springtime sanding and painting. Those last few hours of waxing are agony, and the acres of hull seem to stretch on forever. But the feel of work can be good too. We feel the heat rising through sandpaper as we prep the wood for varnishing. We feel a paintbrush gliding over brightwork as we lay on that perfect finish coat. The feel, the sensation, the reward is magic.
The sensations of touch on a sailboat are varied and memorable. I’ve enjoyed the surging tug of a mahi mahi fighting on a heaving line, gleaming like a rainbow through deep blue Indian Ocean seas; the cozy feel of warm blankets and a snug sea berth on a wild night after the long watch was over; the sudden, terrible, gut-wrenching lurch of the keel grinding onto a hidden reef; the shocking cold of icy water as the bowsprit dipped me knee deep into northern seas; and the immense joy of a hot shower after a windy day of Lake Superior whitecaps.
For sailors, the memories are endless, the sensations, the touch, the feel unforgettable. And the urge to go again is uncontrollable. The feel of sailing is something once experienced, always remembered. Nothing else comes close, nothing else compares. That, indeed, is sailing’s lure, for the feel of sailing is not the feel of the everyday or the ordinary — it’s the feel of life itself.
Charles Scott is a freelance cameraman/photographer who sails worldwide aboard cruising yachts on transocean passages. His website is www.seascottphotography.com.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
