Nathan sailed as a child aboard a friend's Laser. I "sailed" once on a friend's beach Hobie Cat. Fast forward about 20 years. We married and moved to San Diego, where we lived for several years. While there, Nathan had the opportunity to join a racing team aboard a Mumm 30, and his dreaming really took off. Every Wednesday, he headed to the San Diego Yacht Club, practiced with the team, and then headed out for the fun, but pretty competitive, Beer Can Races. Sometimes I joined in the fun back at the yacht club, post-race, but mostly, I just listened to the stories. Then one day I was invited to a party aboard a sailboat. I was the friend of a friend of a friend invitee and had no idea what to expect. It was disastrous. As 30 of us or so sailed around the San Diego Bay, we ran aground, the Captain ripped off his toenail and then dropped his eyeglasses overboard while trying to get us off, and to cap it off, as TowBoat neared and a Coast Guard vessel cruised nearby, the Captain ordered 25 of us to hide down below as he didn't have the appropriate number of life vests. We were packed into this small, stifling, hot saloon, feeling like refugees headed to Florida. While that day gave me a greater appreciation for the lengths people will go to in order to reach the shores of a free country, I was locked into the belief that sailing was not for me. This hobby contained all the elements of my worst nightmare - no way to reach safe land, potential for physical injury is high, potential to run afoul of authorities also high, and sheer volume of complete idiots on the waterways seemed enormous on that day, magnifying the danger factor. I do not like risks. I like to go for gentle hikes, settle with a quiet book, stand on the shores and think of Creation. A hobby with all this work and danger and worry involved is not a hobby for me.
And that's how it all started...
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