|The Bravo Zulu, circa 1981|
He and a fellow cadet had invited me and my roommate Heather for an afternoon on the water. And I fell in love. Not with Steve; with sailing.
|This is what he looked like back then. You're probably wondering why I didn't fall in love at first sight.|
I just loved the motion of the boat on the water, whether gently rocking or wildly tilting in a strong wind. The quietness is sheer bliss.
I used to lie on the bow, gazing up at the sails billowing white against the azure sky. I wish I'd had a camera with me then, but film was so expensive!
The boat had a cabin that slept four: two in the V-berth (the pointy part at the bow), and two quarter berths (like benches along each side). It had a teensy kitchen, a port-a-potty, and a hibachi. What more could you ask?
We spent a good deal of time on that boat while we owned it. In fact, it's where we spent our honeymoon. We made beautiful music together.
|I think he's steering the boat and playing at the same time.|
|There is a very embarrassing story involving this bathing suit. I may share it some day.|
|Sunset on the Bay of Quinte|
Some hours later, we were awakened by a grinding sound that echoed through the boat and struck me scared spitless. A storm had come up in the night and we had run aground on the rocky bottom of the bay. It was pitch black out, and we didn't dare try to move out into the main waterway, but we did hoist the anchor, motor further into the inlet and drop anchor again.
We did not go back to sleep. At daybreak, we set sail into an overcast dawn, laughing at our adventure. We went through the Murray Canal to Twelve o'Clock Point, where we ate the most delicious hot breakfast ever. The best tea, the best bacon.
There was something about feeling you had lived through danger to make the commonplace so much sweeter.
I miss that boat. We sold it in order to buy a new car when our 13-year-old beater heaved its last breath. Now that we're retiring, we both hope to get out on the water again.
*Bravo Zulu is naval-speak for "Well done!" and would be signaled by other ships when one of their flotilla had sunk or disabled a key target.
This post is one of five in response to the question:
If you had to describe your life in five places, which sites would you choose and why?
Other posts in the series:
My Mother's Childhood Home
My Childhood Home
In the Green Wood