It seems that there are 3 kinds of people in the world when it comes to sailing. There is a certain group, to which I belong, that has always wanted to learn to sail. The second group has no interest in sailing, at all. And the third group consists of those somehow beholden to a sailor, who out of companionship or dependence end up conscripted as crew on so many sailing outings, they eventually learn to appreciate sailing.
It turns out my first experience sailing was this picture, taken in 1974 out on Santa Barbara Island off the coast of California. I am the handsome, strapping young fellow on the left. I believe my brother and I are wearing thickly-woven polyester swimsuits. Behind me is a great old sailboat, which was probably fairly new at the time this picture was taken.
My next sailing experience didn’t come until the early 1990’s, when I worked a summer as the waterfront director at Camp Tomahawk, a Boy Scout camp high in Utah’s Uintah Mountains. I didn’t have sailboats on the waterfront, so I rigged a sailboat using one of the rowboats, leeboards, several lashed poles, and a giant sheet of 6 mil plastic. As it turns out, the boat didn’t point (sail into the wind) very well. The leeboards – which were actually the blades of two broken oars – made this boat strictly a downwind sailer.
And then in 2000, I had the great experience of spending a Saturday out sailing with Richard Kittel on his J-30 out on the Great Salt Lake. Richard had lived for a year or so on his boat at the Great Salt Lake. On learning that I had always wanted to try sailing, he graciously invited me out one Saturday. Heavy winds picked up that morning, with winds running 28+ knots. He said he’d never sailed his boat in that heavy of weather, but that the rigging was capable of it. He wanted to know if I wanted to postpone for another day. I doubt that a hurricane on a sea full of U-boats and mines could have dissuaded me that day, so we went.
That sail was the turning point for me. The winds were awesome in their power. Large waves frequently swept across the bow. Even in my foul weather gear, the salt spray managed to soak me to the skin. Great Salt Lake storms are deceptive in their power. Because the salt water is so much denser than sea water, the power of the waves carry much more force than ocean waves. For several hours that day there was room for nothing else in my mind than waves, wind, sails, and tacking. I was hooked. The picture here is what that day felt like. Ok, maybe not quite.