And creating a young sailor along the way
Issue 23 : Mar/Apr 2002
There were days when I dreamed of faking my death and moving to Liechtenstein. When the kids were small and the house was in constant turmoil, I would swear that when they were grown I was off to take my place in the smallest country in Europe. Robert, my husband, always managed to appear to be sympathetic, but I knew he really didn’t understand.
During those years, Robert took up sailing. A 30-foot sloop became his escape from the everyday hurly-burly. When he climbed aboard, he left his cares behind on the shore. Eventually, he coaxed me into his wind-blown world, and I thrilled to the luxury of reading a book or knitting a sweater in peace. Years have flown by, and here I am sitting in the cockpit of our old boat, Pleasant Surprise, watching my grandson, Gabriel, ready his dinghy for a Little Sailors Regatta. His movements are economical and deliberate. He loves competing in these weekend races.
Watching him, I am transported back to his first day aboard Pleasant Surprise. He was three then, small and curious. He wanted to touch whatever he could just to see what would happen. He flipped switches, turned on our ship-to-shore radio and was delighted when it crackled with static. He opened lockers and cabinets. He tugged on the lines. He was a bundle of constant motion and non-stop questions. And through it all, Robert remained outwardly calm, but I could see that the strain was beginning to take its toll.
As that first day wore on, Robert rose to the occasion. Robert explained how to tack and heel and come about. And with every question answered and every gadget demonstrated, he learned what I had always known: no matter how much you love him, being with a small child can drain energy reserves you never knew you had.
Evening came, and the sun began to set. Robert went belowdecks and, after some searching, came up with an old fishing pole. With Gabriel beside him, he began to thread the line and attach a hook so they could fish together. Robert worked on the fishing pole, and Gabriel fired off questions. After a pause, Robert casually asked, “Gabe, do you know where Liechtenstein is?”
“No,” was Gabe’s response.
After that first day, Gabe became his grandpa’s favorite sailing buddy. He was a natural, intuitive and quick to learn. When our “little sailor” turned eight, Robert found a small dory in need of repair and, together with Gabriel, he lovingly fixed it up. Just before her maiden voyage they carefully painted the name Gabriel had chosen across her stern. Gabe is sailing her today.
There is the sound the of starter pistol. The race has begun. In front of the pack I can see him in his little red dinghy . . . Liechtenstein.
Barbara grew up in Connecticut, where she learned to love ships and the ocean. She taught high school and worked as a professional singer and musician, performing in some of the best jazz joints in the country. She now lives and sails in Colorado.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
