Date: 12/30/2007 / Depart: 1300 Port Isabel Fingers / Arrive: 1700 Port Isabel Fingers / Wind: NNE 12-14mph / Temp: 70 deg F / Skies: overcast / Water: stained / Waves: 1-2’ / Tide: standing high

I promised Steve that I would take him sailing whenever he wanted. So when he called and told me earlier in the week that he was on his way to Latitude 26, I made plans to take Olivia dancing at the first weather window opportunity. We were on the back side of a rather strong cold front that blew through just before Christmas, with another one on its heels, but the NWS predicted a brief window over the weekend.  I made plans to sail on Sunday.

Saturday I washed and scrubbed the decks and cockpit, even removing the grates and scrubbing every nook and cranny, hanked on the 135 and new jib sheets, bagging the whole thing, cleaned and dusted the interior before buttoning up. Sunday I slept sort of late, one eye open watching the little breeze stir the palm trees outside my window.  Heading over to the boat around the crack of noon, I called Steve and he told me that he and his two brothers, along with three kids were coming, so that brought the contingent to ten bodies aboard ‘Div.

The tide was slack as we streamed out of the slip, and past the dredge which appeared to be working. Finally.

Just outside marker 17 we raised the mizzen, main and genny, sliding happily along on a port tack toward the causeway pass. Northeasterly winds as they taper off after a cold front bring the very best sailing at Latitude 26. It is then that we basically sail anywhere we want on a beam reach or better, and today was no exception. At the Brazos Santiago Pass, we headed outbound for a way, about halfway into the open Gulf of Mexico, riding swell and current, entertained by an occasional dolphin rolling and jumping. Steve and company were mesmerized, but I finally had to call everybody off of the front deck so that I could spin us around and head back, past Fish Tales and Isabella, both on dolphin watch near Children’s beach.

Heading north up Tomkins channel, we pinched tight on the wind, and I hoped we would make it past the last channel marker before the powerlines, but alas, we made a single tack for position near the entrance to Sea Ranch on the Island, gaining the tack we needed, slipping past, between the poles. On the north side, I was momentarily distracted by a parasail boat. They are a menace to sailors in this stretch, often heading directly towards you, even when under full sail, seemingly on purpose as if to challenge you, telling you that they own the bay…..

“What was that?” Steve inquired as Olivia drug her heels on the shallow shoal near the old causeway. “Awwwwww, nuthin’” I said. “Just a little aground”, as we lazily switched tacks and slipped off of the sandbar back into deeper water, once again changing tacks back towards the causeway Pass without further adieu.

The wind was picking up, and little whitecaps danced on the late afternoon water as we made our way underneath, bearing down on the fingers past Pirates Landing, dousing the canvas near new Raybec harbor, Savannah at the helm keeping the nose into the wind. I am so blessed to have kids that can handle a boat like this.

Near marker 17, the dredge had left only a narrow passage, and a sportfisherman on the other side let us through first, as we made our way back to the slip without incident. With so many people aboard, it was a bit of a challenge just to see the approach, but I managed to frame the slip in a gap between several bodies, and we nudged up, stalling just so…..grabbing the dock lines and tying off like we really knew what we were doing.

Steve and company quickly left, but I could tell they had a great time, and certainly the wind gods cooperated. So much so in fact that I fear this first impression might spoil them for life.

Little do they know that sailing is rarely like this.

Later after covering the sails, folding and stowing the jib, coiling sheets and cleaning up, we sat below enjoying a cold beverage and reflecting on this fact. We live for these days of perfect sail, knowing that we will rarely get them. But each and every time we sail, every time we play in the song of the wind, we are treated to a new lesson, a new step. Some are hard, few are easy, but we would not miss the chance to participate in the dance.

It has been nearly a year since that appendectomy that nearly turned my lights out. Now more than ever, I know that life is far too short to spend doing things that you don’t want to do. You only get one ride on the merry-go-round, and then it’s done. Why waste it?