Moonpath�

2002-10-16

I've been feeling very nostalgic lately. I'm thinking it's because things are so yucky at work that my mind is looking for something pleasant to think about. Last night I was thinking how much I miss sailing with my Dad.

My parents had a small sailboat that they kept in a slip in Newport Beach. Several summers we would rent a house someplace nearby and we would go sailing almost every day. My mom liked puttering around in the bay, but I liked it when we went out on the ocean. There we would really move. The boat heeling over in the wind and the water hissing against the hull. The water and the flap of sails would be the only sounds.

When we went out of the bay we would pass the buoy marking the jetty and there would be seals sitting on the base. How they could stand to sleep there with the clanging of the bell I don't know. It was fun to see how close we could pass the buoy and whether the seals would slide off as we went by.

I loved staying on Balboa Island. I would get up early in the morning and walk around the island. I liked listening to the seagulls and the lines clanging against the masts of the boats. I would stop and pet all of the cats that I met as I went around.

My Dad joined a boating club and I raced with him on Thursday afternoons. I really enjoyed that time with him. Sailing races are kind of long stretches of planning and trying to aim right and then a flurry of activity when you tack, switching from one side to the other, loosening and then tightening the sails. I have a really clear memory of sailing one night, with the wind directly behind us, sailing wing and wing straight towards a full moon. The moonlight shinning a path on the water.

�