50 Stars Sailing in the Wind

Celebrate, celebrate the 4th of July, my 50th post and anniversary on Sunday.

“Guess what?” my father announced in our household one day. “I’ve joined the Tyler Yacht Club.” He joined it when we lived in Tyler, TX. My mother was delighted that he found an outdoor hobby, but probably a little concerned about the “yacht” part. He had it figured out though. He had ordered a kit to build his own sailboat. The kit arrived all the way to Texas from Waterbury, CN, and so towards the end of spring he began building it after work and on weekends in the garage below our house. I would forgo television and watch them into the night dodging June bugs that the overhead light attracted. Them? That boat also forged a friendship between my dad and the kind doctor across the street. Doc became curious about what was going on in our garage and he lent a hand every night until its completion. I was glad Dad had help and the possibility of sailing sooner than later was just fine with me. Doc’s wife became a little concerned when it got to be late in the night. When the phone would ring after 9:00 we knew who it was. “Hello, this is Nell. I just want to remind Doc that he has surgery scheduled early in the morning and he needs to get his rest.” My mother worried, but Dad and Doc were happy in their own world. Doc even joined the Tyler Yacht Club just as a card carrying member…no boat. But he did acquire a plane. Just in time for summer he and the rest of us soon came to enjoy Dad’s boat while Dad enjoyed flying in Doc’s plane.

We all learned to sail that summer. We learned to handle a tiller, move to the other side of the boat rhythmically as the wind changed. We learned that it wasn’t always smooth sailing as we hit a “calm” when there is absolutely no wind and returning to shore seemed endless. Sometimes the wind was very strong and we capsized…sometimes on purpose as it was great fun to splash in the water, sit on the centerboard and right the boat and skittle on through the wake. The boat seemed to determine our future homes. Years later we lived on a canal in FL and then in Houston we lived down the street from a lake where we could launch the boat.

The boat aged and weathered. My parents moved more inland along the Gulf coast and by then I was married. My father-in-law offered to take the boat off Dad’s hands and store it in the barn. Dad agreed. Years after Dad and Papa Charles died my husband put it on the burn pile as it had seen its day. I did not go to the farm that day. I called my mother to let her know the fate of the boat and was relieved that she understood our decision. When my husband came home he was all smiles. The job was done, and I was sad. “You know we still have the rigging, mast and sail,” he told me.

Rick and his ranch partner had a vision. The mast fit perfectly into a piece of pipe B had. B welded the pipe to a fence post by the front gate. “You know if that piece of pipe had not been just right, I don’t know what we would have done,” Rick marveled. I loved my husband so much that day he told me what he and B had fashioned. Every time I look at our mast turned flagpole I love that he re-purposed that steadfast mast. He was just attached to that boat that had occupied space in the barn as his in-laws were to the boat that had sailed lakes and canals.

Another note. Our neighbor across the road has commented more than once that he loves to see our flag waving. And when he doesn’t see it he can “hear” it as the pully clangs against the metal mast/pole. He finds it comforting to hear the sound of our flag waving.

"...and many an eye has danced to see that banner in the sky" Oliver Wendell Holmes, from "Old Ironsides"

My blogging friend Jean in Canada wrote this week about “The American Dream?” In it she reflects “It’s not money, but things like relationships and how you spend your time that drives life satisfaction.” The youtube video called “The Story of Stuff” that she includes in her post is a simple and engaging commentary on valuing our resources. This recent post and her comment to me that her dad’s favorite line is “I have a vision” put me in my chair that swivels and rocks to write this.

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