FIRST, A NOTE
I grew up on the Mystic River in Connecticut. I was lucky enough to spend many of my childhood summers tooling around in kayaks and rowboats, and while I loved sailing, I never truly learned the fundamentals. I recently decided to dive in again on Austin's Lake Travis, starting with dinghy sailing for beginners.
This poem came by way of a request, from sailing instructor Linda McDavitt at Austin Yacht Club, to capture my experience. A longtime sailor and an accomplished bandleader and musician, Linda sailed in the Clipper Round the World Yacht Race from 2015 through 2016, an eleven-month, 40,000-mile journey.
POETRY
Point of Sail
We meet on the dock, a dozen would-be sailors,
exemplars of conscious incompetence, most,
all of a growth mindset, and others, fresh-faced,
unaware they're about to get hooked, caught
by the sun's brilliance, the allure of light on water
and the slip-skip of hull at close haul, at beam reach
There's something primal in catching the wind, in
the second you feel the luff fill and arc into shape,
hear canvas snap, as if we were meant to ride thus,
to challenge gravity and our own worldly weight
for the adrenaline rush and just to see if we can
It drives us to finally learn to tie a square knot,
follow a figure eight, try again at a bowline, until
we know without thinking how to rig the boat,
cleat the sheet, sense the telltales, without looking,
know our point of sail and direction even once
we're on dry land, with the water far behind