Saturday, June 4, 2011
Sailing, Sailing . . . or Not
Here's a fun picture for a Saturday morning. This is a photo of the Bay Bridge at sunset, taken when we were out sailing in San Francisco Bay several years back. The picture is my favorite souvenir of that sailing era. My other souvenir is a nervous twitch.
Just kidding. I'm over it now. Maybe. For a year or so we were co-owners of an old sailboat. My husband has always been interested in sailing--he even took a sailing class in grad school and got to sail up and down the Charles River in Boston (where you really don't want to fall in). As for me, I'm not into sailing--the fact that boats don't have brakes is very intimidating to me, and I have deficient spacial ability, so the "pull the sail this way to go that way" and all is anything but intuitive. I found that I didn't enjoy owning a boat--disliked it intensely, in fact, and found it exceedingly stressful. Sailing our own boat scared me, and boats constantly slurp up money, whether or not you're actually in them on the water. Our boat got dubbed the Sea Weasel. Our co-owners did eventually come up with another name for it, but I don't remember what that name was--something about a duck, maybe? No matter. That boat will always be the Sea Weasel to me.
When we sold the boat, I was greatly relieved. My husband now has a little sailboat you can pull behind your car. I like this one much better. It's small and harmless. There's no danger of crashing into somebody's million-dollar yacht. No danger of much of anything--when you sail it on lakes, if you fall in, you can get back in the little boat--no harm done--as opposed to sailing on the Bay, where if you capsize your boat, you'd better hope the Cost Guard gets to you before hypothermia sets in or you end up in the path of a freighter heading toward the Port of Oakland.
I'm a wimp. I know it. I guess I just wasn't cut out to be a salty old sea dog. Other things that scare me: small parking places, missing a flight, and online gym classes.