He grew up around boats. The numerous stories about races in the Florida panhandle...big sailboats, knockdowns, frozen hands and feet,.....the LOVE OF SAILING. Not that many years ago, he owned and sailed a Hobie 14. Up until one year ago he was going off shore fishing by himself on his big Sea Ray. We have since convinced him that it really isn't in his best interest to venture out too far by himself.
Approaching 90 years old and fighting bone cancer, he is faced with conserving his energy for "priorities". As we walk down to the dock, where he has his San Juan, it is not hard to notice the effort that is taken just to walk down to his sailboat. Just a few years ago, it was a matter of pulling the boat over and stepping over the life lines. He had to have a walkway built in order to get aboard. Where he once carried his sails down and hoisted them, he now leaves them furled and secured to the boom. We prepare and start the "kicker" for him and motor out to the bay. As we run the main up, and get the jib ready, we chuckle as he instructs us as to how he wants it done. Once a skipper..always a skipper. We trim sails and lose sight of the fact of who is helming this boat. Going to weather, we slowly notice the increase heel. Look back at his face, and it is not the same face we saw earlier that day. "The lee rail" is down, and the boat has a bone in her teeth. But more importantly that that, the "medication" is taking effect. I only can wish that I will always be able to find a way to go sailing. Hope this hasn't bored anyone, but I thought I'd share this with sailors that can appreciate what "smelling the sailing breeze" really means. I have attached a pic of my father-in-law, "Dub".
Thanks for listening
Dave