Bebe has always been a good sport about going along with new ventures of mine. A friend taught me to sail and I bought a little day sailer much like the one pictured here. My teacher had a much larger boat and invited me to join he and some others in an around the lake treasure hunt. The weather on the day of the event turned out to be overcast, windy, and cold. It was March. Bebe was dubious, but agreed to try it anyway. I gave her some basic instruction on shore and we set out to join the others. This poem recounts the mis-adventure.March Sailing
It started out a lovely day
March breezes softly blew.
I pulled my sailboat to the lake
my wife the only crew.
But as we launched, clouds drifted in,
cool wind began to gust.
It was my crewmate’s first assist,
some training was a must.
My boat was small with open hull,
no keel, just centerboard.
I turned her bow into the wind
set sail and ran from shore.
She heeled to starboard on a reach,
my wife was seated there.
The gunnels touched the water line,
her eyes were wide with fear.
I yelled commands to no avail
above the roar and mist.
My crew was frozen to the rail
despite the awkward list.
The water finally breached the side
and roused her from the trance.
She crossed the hull and glared at me
with malice in her glance.
I took the hint and made for port,
riding with the wind.
I’d have to find another crew
‘fore I could sail again.
Dennis Price
