We have told friends in the past it is spelled Reverie, but pronounced Traveling Star. I have submitted the paperwork to make it offically Traveling Star.
 |
| Salon port side, where the piling came through the house |
Monday, August 30, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
How I Came Into Sailing (Part 1)
How I Came Into Sailing, One Man’s Story “The Early Years”
My earliest recollection of sailing was when I was about 5 years old and my father took me out in a pram from the Navy base in San Diego California. I remember the blue water, the white sail, the rock jetty, and that is about it. I would not be exposed to sailing again for another 8 years. It was my mother who would afford me the opportunity through a friend of hers named Don Boring.
My mother volunteered time to the Port Arthur Little Theater and so did Don. Somehow the conversation of sailing must have come up and the fact that he was looking for capable crew for the up coming racing season. My mother mentioned that she had a son and his friend who might be interested in sailing. A date for the meeting with Don was set and my best friend Roy Henslee and I showed up on our bicycles at the designated location on time. Roy and I first met Don Boring at his home on Proctor Street about 10 blocks from our neighborhood. Don talked to us about sailing and the obligation of showing up every other Sunday for the next several months come, rain, shine, hell or high water. We were 13, we did not have any real plans. The deal was made and sealed with a glass of lemonade and an egg salad sandwich made by his wife Lucy. Our first assignment was to show up at his house the following weekend. The boat, a wooden “Lightning” class beauty was located in a shed in his back yard. Little did we know at the time that our first experience in sailing would parallel that of a later movie with Mr. Miyagi (Pat Morita) and Daniel LaRusso (Ralph Macchio). The first few weeks of sailing went just like the movie, sand off – paint on, sand off – varnish on.
Actual sailing lessons began just as soon as the Spring Racing Series started. We learned about tacking early in the game. In those days no one used an outboard motor to depart from or return to their slips. As a matter of fact there was no place on the boat to mount an outboard. Roy and I never had the opportunity to use a motor on the Lightning class boat, so we never knew the difference. We sailed in and out of the marina every time. There is a lot to be said for learning to tack out of a narrow fairway in any weather conditions. Even after all the boat preparation, painting, and varnishing, there was still a price to pay for the sailing lessons. Don always wanted us to arrive early at the yacht club and have the boat cover off, the sails staged, and lines all in place. He would drive up in his white 1965 Pontiac Lemans, get out, and come aboard for departure. Don was always dressed for yachting in white deck shoes, white socks, white shorts, white shirt and white sailing cap with green fabric under the brim to deflect the glare of the water. Roy and I on the other hand were dressed in worn out tennis shoes with the toes hanging out, no socks, blue jean cutoff shorts, and t-shirts with the sleeves cut off. We were the typical teenage sail bums. When we would arrive back at the dock after a hard day of racing Don would immediately step off the boat and head to the clubhouse, leaving Roy and I to sponge dry the bilge, remove and fold the sails properly, and reinstall the cover. To add insult to injury I remember the time Don invited Lowery Freeman, his sailing nemesis aboard for a day sail. Lowery spent all day sailing with us and flipping his Philip Morris cigarette ashes into the bilge. Roy and I as “crew” were saddled with the task of getting all of those ashes out from under the floorboards of the bilge at the end of the day.
Not only did we sail with Don Boring as crew but we would also bum rides (I mean crew) for any and all kinds of boats. The boats back then were pretty much limited to day sailors. The typical boats were Lightnings, Gerry 18s, and later Flying Scotts, We sailed almost everyday between the ages of 13 and 16. When we could not catch a ride on a bigger boat we would resort to the Yacht clubs plywood prams. I can actually remember sailing a pram ¾ full of water and lying in the water in the boat like a bathtub. All of the old members (over 30) were always worried about us drowning. At 13 we were convinced that we could sail boats right side up and upside down. As the availability of larger boats became more common in the late 60’s early 70’s more and more large boats moved into the marina. Roy and I could not really understand the thinking of the boat owners of these massive (27’ – 37’) boats. The boats would show up in the marina and never go out. We used to joke that we wondered if the boat owners had actually purchased the “optional” sails with the boats. The big boat owners would come out on the weekend and sit in their cockpits and drink. As teenage sail bums we could never figure out why the boat owners of these big boats would not give us their keys, at least we would sail the boats, so much for teenage logic.
When I was 16 my father purchased a used Sailstar 24 located in Seabrook Shipyard. The boat resembled the Bristol 24, a great boat for the times. It had 6 foot headroom, 4 foot draft, and weighed in at 6,000 lbs. At the age of 16 I was what I considered myself to be, a well-seasoned sailor, after all I had been racing for some three years. What I had experience in up to this point in my life is what I would consider “gentlemen’s yachting”. Class racing was whoever finished first wins no fuss no muss. Then it happened (this is when you hear the chilling music), my father decided he wanted to race the “Miss–B–Haven”. Remember that beauty of a boat I had just described in the upper portion of this paragraph? Did you notice that I did not say anything about a race boat, especially weighing in at 6,000 lbs.
My earliest recollection of sailing was when I was about 5 years old and my father took me out in a pram from the Navy base in San Diego California. I remember the blue water, the white sail, the rock jetty, and that is about it. I would not be exposed to sailing again for another 8 years. It was my mother who would afford me the opportunity through a friend of hers named Don Boring.
My mother volunteered time to the Port Arthur Little Theater and so did Don. Somehow the conversation of sailing must have come up and the fact that he was looking for capable crew for the up coming racing season. My mother mentioned that she had a son and his friend who might be interested in sailing. A date for the meeting with Don was set and my best friend Roy Henslee and I showed up on our bicycles at the designated location on time. Roy and I first met Don Boring at his home on Proctor Street about 10 blocks from our neighborhood. Don talked to us about sailing and the obligation of showing up every other Sunday for the next several months come, rain, shine, hell or high water. We were 13, we did not have any real plans. The deal was made and sealed with a glass of lemonade and an egg salad sandwich made by his wife Lucy. Our first assignment was to show up at his house the following weekend. The boat, a wooden “Lightning” class beauty was located in a shed in his back yard. Little did we know at the time that our first experience in sailing would parallel that of a later movie with Mr. Miyagi (Pat Morita) and Daniel LaRusso (Ralph Macchio). The first few weeks of sailing went just like the movie, sand off – paint on, sand off – varnish on.
Actual sailing lessons began just as soon as the Spring Racing Series started. We learned about tacking early in the game. In those days no one used an outboard motor to depart from or return to their slips. As a matter of fact there was no place on the boat to mount an outboard. Roy and I never had the opportunity to use a motor on the Lightning class boat, so we never knew the difference. We sailed in and out of the marina every time. There is a lot to be said for learning to tack out of a narrow fairway in any weather conditions. Even after all the boat preparation, painting, and varnishing, there was still a price to pay for the sailing lessons. Don always wanted us to arrive early at the yacht club and have the boat cover off, the sails staged, and lines all in place. He would drive up in his white 1965 Pontiac Lemans, get out, and come aboard for departure. Don was always dressed for yachting in white deck shoes, white socks, white shorts, white shirt and white sailing cap with green fabric under the brim to deflect the glare of the water. Roy and I on the other hand were dressed in worn out tennis shoes with the toes hanging out, no socks, blue jean cutoff shorts, and t-shirts with the sleeves cut off. We were the typical teenage sail bums. When we would arrive back at the dock after a hard day of racing Don would immediately step off the boat and head to the clubhouse, leaving Roy and I to sponge dry the bilge, remove and fold the sails properly, and reinstall the cover. To add insult to injury I remember the time Don invited Lowery Freeman, his sailing nemesis aboard for a day sail. Lowery spent all day sailing with us and flipping his Philip Morris cigarette ashes into the bilge. Roy and I as “crew” were saddled with the task of getting all of those ashes out from under the floorboards of the bilge at the end of the day.
Not only did we sail with Don Boring as crew but we would also bum rides (I mean crew) for any and all kinds of boats. The boats back then were pretty much limited to day sailors. The typical boats were Lightnings, Gerry 18s, and later Flying Scotts, We sailed almost everyday between the ages of 13 and 16. When we could not catch a ride on a bigger boat we would resort to the Yacht clubs plywood prams. I can actually remember sailing a pram ¾ full of water and lying in the water in the boat like a bathtub. All of the old members (over 30) were always worried about us drowning. At 13 we were convinced that we could sail boats right side up and upside down. As the availability of larger boats became more common in the late 60’s early 70’s more and more large boats moved into the marina. Roy and I could not really understand the thinking of the boat owners of these massive (27’ – 37’) boats. The boats would show up in the marina and never go out. We used to joke that we wondered if the boat owners had actually purchased the “optional” sails with the boats. The big boat owners would come out on the weekend and sit in their cockpits and drink. As teenage sail bums we could never figure out why the boat owners of these big boats would not give us their keys, at least we would sail the boats, so much for teenage logic.
When I was 16 my father purchased a used Sailstar 24 located in Seabrook Shipyard. The boat resembled the Bristol 24, a great boat for the times. It had 6 foot headroom, 4 foot draft, and weighed in at 6,000 lbs. At the age of 16 I was what I considered myself to be, a well-seasoned sailor, after all I had been racing for some three years. What I had experience in up to this point in my life is what I would consider “gentlemen’s yachting”. Class racing was whoever finished first wins no fuss no muss. Then it happened (this is when you hear the chilling music), my father decided he wanted to race the “Miss–B–Haven”. Remember that beauty of a boat I had just described in the upper portion of this paragraph? Did you notice that I did not say anything about a race boat, especially weighing in at 6,000 lbs.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)