wind and water
You can get sunburned here even when the wind is whipping and freezing cold; out on the water, you develop a hunger for something sloppy and greasy and bathed in infiniate ketchup. I gave up all hope of eating healthy that day and bought an avocado burger from a little shack stand and it was the most delicious thing I had eaten in a long time, and the French fries, crispy and greasy swam in endless ketchup. The burger ladies were all heavy no-nonsense women with heavy make-up and hair nets, screaming numbers into speakers and handing paper-wrapped meals out to customers with big, meaty arms wrapped in smeared white uniforms.
I was surprised to find out that a lot of people I know had sailed around the world. I recall now that a good friend was able to see much of Europe working on people's yachts and he would sporadically email us about it. "I'm in the Caribbean now. Bye!" Then disappear for a few years. Once acquaintance (I don't know her so well) did it but it was said that she had to get off the boat towards the end because the people she was with were driving her crazy; she did not tell me that first hand, so maybe it would be an unfounded rumor?
Sometimes teachers are a little too hands-off and let you do your own thing, which can be both exhilarating but dangerous. People don't always do the right thing when left to their own devices; bad habits developed over years grow like warts and are impossible to burn out painlessly. If you start out tying knots improperly it becomes a habit and it stays with you forever. I learned dancing by sheer accident; but there are certain ways to move your feet that are very unhealthy and can lead to injury if you don't take precautions. I don't know this offhand.
Also, from an Indian Kathak dance class I learned that many seemingly senseless practice steps and obsession with proper form would eventually lead to a properly disciplined dance more apparent in more sophisticated moves later on down the road. Not so fun, and ridiculously sensless at first... As I never advanced beyond the stage of a dilettante I never reaped the fruits of those labors, but when I see people dancing now I have a more sophisticated appreciation of what I am watching.
Out on the water the teacher, an Irish guy in tevas and shorts (tevas are the uniform out here, along with North Face--extremely practical! I should get some) said, "The terms, it's nothing. Nothing to it really. You can't learn this from a book. OK, you start steering the boat!" And I had the till and ropes in my hand. He was firmly convinced that everyone could do this, and this shouldn't cost a lot of money for anyone, which is what this group of people I hang out with is all about, and there is a lot of unnecessary glamor and stereotyping to sailing which makes it sadly inaccessible to most of the general public.
I am still overwhelmed at the beauty of the land around me. Normally a person learning to sail would be confronted with a blank bay and aim for rocks or trees. I chose on that day a clump of bushes, a weather balloon, the golden Gate bridge, and downtown San Francisco as my navigation points. That I can see the brilliant purple sunrises and sunsets of such a famous landmark every day without much effort, it's really a privilege, and I feel properly spoiled.
There are a lot of weird ways in which the wind works with sails that aren't so immediately apparent, and it's difficult to understand. Sailing into the wind is a no-no--you won't get anywhere with that. You're pushed along in a lot of bizarre directions by things being caught and trapped and going sideways. Things are done in a zigzag course, and there are a lot of weird old-fashioned maritime terms, and there's a lot to be learned from the people around you who are more experienced, but not everything you are taught is good wisdom, and a lot of it can be bad habits.
You have to keep neutral with your steering, and then there is a center board that reminds me of the fin of a dolphin, and to be naive is both embarrassing yet at once so exciting, because there's nothing more wonderful than learning how to do a new thing. It's also very fascinating because there are no motors involved; this is what people have learned how to do over thousands of years, starting without books and paper, and the collected wisdom encouraged innovation over time. Sometimes when you're driving over the Bay Bridge you'll spot an old wooden sailing ship straight out of the seventeenth century, an old galleon (?) with gigantic masts entirely powered by the wind.
The other guy in the boat was much more experienced than I was, and when he took control we went faster. I assisted him in maintaining the sails. The teacher showed us how to halt the boat by flipping the sails and moving the till so that there was no need for an anchor.
"You can keep fairly still like this, and this is the time to break out the wine and cheese," he said.
"But then wouldn't you be drunk sailing?" I asked.
"I'm always drunk!" he winked. And we all laughed. And I learned a lot more from that short time out on the water than I could from a book; but in reading books you often want to understand why things happen. Otherwise you live life blindly in a fog. What made people decide to build sails when you could get by with paddling? Maybe it would have been discouraged as superfluous energy, why bother changing something when it works fine already?
"Doing this make you really hungry," the teacher said, and he was right. "Let's head back in." The next time I'll go out I'll be eating fried calamari and fries, and staring at the purple sunset against the mountains, my face covered with grease and my face smarting from sunburn despite the cold.
I was surprised to find out that a lot of people I know had sailed around the world. I recall now that a good friend was able to see much of Europe working on people's yachts and he would sporadically email us about it. "I'm in the Caribbean now. Bye!" Then disappear for a few years. Once acquaintance (I don't know her so well) did it but it was said that she had to get off the boat towards the end because the people she was with were driving her crazy; she did not tell me that first hand, so maybe it would be an unfounded rumor?
Sometimes teachers are a little too hands-off and let you do your own thing, which can be both exhilarating but dangerous. People don't always do the right thing when left to their own devices; bad habits developed over years grow like warts and are impossible to burn out painlessly. If you start out tying knots improperly it becomes a habit and it stays with you forever. I learned dancing by sheer accident; but there are certain ways to move your feet that are very unhealthy and can lead to injury if you don't take precautions. I don't know this offhand.
Also, from an Indian Kathak dance class I learned that many seemingly senseless practice steps and obsession with proper form would eventually lead to a properly disciplined dance more apparent in more sophisticated moves later on down the road. Not so fun, and ridiculously sensless at first... As I never advanced beyond the stage of a dilettante I never reaped the fruits of those labors, but when I see people dancing now I have a more sophisticated appreciation of what I am watching.
Out on the water the teacher, an Irish guy in tevas and shorts (tevas are the uniform out here, along with North Face--extremely practical! I should get some) said, "The terms, it's nothing. Nothing to it really. You can't learn this from a book. OK, you start steering the boat!" And I had the till and ropes in my hand. He was firmly convinced that everyone could do this, and this shouldn't cost a lot of money for anyone, which is what this group of people I hang out with is all about, and there is a lot of unnecessary glamor and stereotyping to sailing which makes it sadly inaccessible to most of the general public.
I am still overwhelmed at the beauty of the land around me. Normally a person learning to sail would be confronted with a blank bay and aim for rocks or trees. I chose on that day a clump of bushes, a weather balloon, the golden Gate bridge, and downtown San Francisco as my navigation points. That I can see the brilliant purple sunrises and sunsets of such a famous landmark every day without much effort, it's really a privilege, and I feel properly spoiled.
There are a lot of weird ways in which the wind works with sails that aren't so immediately apparent, and it's difficult to understand. Sailing into the wind is a no-no--you won't get anywhere with that. You're pushed along in a lot of bizarre directions by things being caught and trapped and going sideways. Things are done in a zigzag course, and there are a lot of weird old-fashioned maritime terms, and there's a lot to be learned from the people around you who are more experienced, but not everything you are taught is good wisdom, and a lot of it can be bad habits.
You have to keep neutral with your steering, and then there is a center board that reminds me of the fin of a dolphin, and to be naive is both embarrassing yet at once so exciting, because there's nothing more wonderful than learning how to do a new thing. It's also very fascinating because there are no motors involved; this is what people have learned how to do over thousands of years, starting without books and paper, and the collected wisdom encouraged innovation over time. Sometimes when you're driving over the Bay Bridge you'll spot an old wooden sailing ship straight out of the seventeenth century, an old galleon (?) with gigantic masts entirely powered by the wind.
The other guy in the boat was much more experienced than I was, and when he took control we went faster. I assisted him in maintaining the sails. The teacher showed us how to halt the boat by flipping the sails and moving the till so that there was no need for an anchor.
"You can keep fairly still like this, and this is the time to break out the wine and cheese," he said.
"But then wouldn't you be drunk sailing?" I asked.
"I'm always drunk!" he winked. And we all laughed. And I learned a lot more from that short time out on the water than I could from a book; but in reading books you often want to understand why things happen. Otherwise you live life blindly in a fog. What made people decide to build sails when you could get by with paddling? Maybe it would have been discouraged as superfluous energy, why bother changing something when it works fine already?
"Doing this make you really hungry," the teacher said, and he was right. "Let's head back in." The next time I'll go out I'll be eating fried calamari and fries, and staring at the purple sunset against the mountains, my face covered with grease and my face smarting from sunburn despite the cold.
2 comments:
heh--"I'm always drunk."
A lot of the "old salts" around here have such ruddy faces--and it's not all from wind and water.:)
I only know a little about the sailing world, but in a way it reminds me of what I used to see of both the skiing and whitewater rafting (how Tevas were invented) milieu: these are independent, outdoorsy people, some of them moneyed, some not at all, but devotion and skill is universally respected.
I agree about getting hungry
I have had similar feelings about golfing; maybe it's distressing for me to see so many golf courses in strange locations. I recall seeing luxurious golf courses built for middle-class Europeans in the middle of the Sahara. But it's actually a very interesting sport, and my friend from Scotland coaxed me into giving it a chance when he described golfing at home.
There are places in the world that just naturally look like golf courses... especially in a place like Scotland!
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