It seemed to me that if the boat tipped over, I’d be trapped inside the cabin, or worse, under the sail as that sail swung from the sky to the surface and finally, to the depths. I didn’t want to die that way, not then anyway, not at such a young age. And this is the reason that I didn’t like sailing as a child. I figured it was certain death, and death by drowning under a sail had to be one of the worst. This fear of the fixed-keel sailboat stayed with me for a while, but by junior high or high school I imagine it had faded away. By high school I was interested in Laser sailing, and with it feeling that capsizing was no longer a sure death to be avoided but instead, a quick way to cool off in the drink. My sailing was never skilled, my racing direction never certain.
My daughter, May, had a similar circle of sailing success. Originally, she found the Laser sailing fun, to sit in the cockpit next to me while I coerced that poor hull into holding my weight and hers. She enjoyed at least one month of sailing before a reversal, before a fear of sailing set in. There was no momentous event that changed her outlook, no dangerous sail or knock on the head with a swinging boom. There was only a decision that sailing was not for her. This occurred while aboard the Kestrel, the fixed keel boat that should, in fact, feel safer than a Laser. One moment we were sailing along, the whole family content, the next she was shrieking and inconsolable. Huddling in the cabin would offer no retreat, because she, like me at the same age, knew that during a capsizing event the cabin was no place to be.
That was early in the summer of 2013 that this fear developed, and it clung to her for most of the boating season. Towards fall she was less afraid, and even after one particularly harrowing, well documented Laser event that involved two turtled boats and a hurricane force wind, she still wasn’t deterred. By September she was comfortable aboard the fixed keel boat once again, and by early this spring she had made the decision that it was time to join her brother at sailing school. Some people take a lifetime to overcome their fears, and my daughter did so within the confines of one calendar year.
The Geneva Lake Sailing School is run out of the Lake Geneva Yacht Club. It consists of a humble shack, some sailboats, and several tanned instructors. Kids as young as five or six can start their sailing careers here, and I see no better way to ease a child into a lifetime of sailing proficiency than by enrolling him, or her, in one of these summer classes. As with all things summer, this is a fleeting opportunity, one best captured quickly before all is, as Robert Redford proved, lost.
Here’s how this will work. You’ll call or email the Geneva Lake Sailing School. You’ll figure out which week your kid can take an introductory sailing class. Once you receive your options, you’ll then have to make a very, very difficult decision. See, in order to enroll your kid in a week-long sailing class, you’ll have to make the impossible decision to actually spend a full week at your vacation home. I know, I know, it’s crazy talk, but bear with me. Imagine a week that you don’t pack up on Sunday and drive home, back to the city or the suburbs. Imagine how that might feel to break with the pattern of Sunday dismissal. You have absolutely nothing to do during the week in the city anyway, but how difficult and horrifying it seems to spend weekdays at the lake. The terror of it all!
I’m assuming that if both spouses work, then one will have to take off to spend at the lake. If both wish to take off, that’s fine, too. This tenure when no one works and instead the family plays is called V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N. It’s a hard word to spell out, difficult to pronounce, and nearly impossible for the modern worker to understand, but it’s a time tested way of recharging ones batteries. We think nothing of taking a week off in March to travel to some sand infested peninsula or island, and yet, in the height of a Midwestern summer we try to make our leisure bloom during only a Saturday and a Sunday? Shame on everyone.
So, we sign up for sailing school, because what are our other options? Do we sign our kids up for dance lessons, as my brother would have you do? You know what happens when kids become adults and they find themselves needing to entertain their friends? The kids who know how to sail take them sailing, and the kids who learned to dance? Well, they dance, possibly on a dimly lit stage. I don’t want that to happen to your kids, so let’s spend a week at the lake, having a good old fashioned summer vacation, and we’ll learn to sail while we’re at it.