I have a confession to make. Despite being intimately involved in a sailing company, you could count on one hand the number of times I've sailed in the last few years... maybe with a finger or two left. Like the old saw about the cobbler's kids having no shoes, there hasn't been a lot of sailing in my life during the recent past.
There have been a lot of reasons for this scarcity. The pressures of nurturing a small business through challenging economic times, the commitments and conflicts of a young family, even the pursuit of another activity-learning to fly. We hit rock bottom earlier this year when we sold our old boat. It was a sad but very realistic decision. She had sat on jackstands for over five years—waiting for the moment when we had enough time to start all the projects necessary to put her back into decent shape. After years of denial, I faced up to the fact that I just didn't have the time. The good news was that her new owner did have the time and desire: he will make her right and she will sail again. As hard as it was, I signed those papers with an odd sense of resignation and relief. At least I wouldn't be responsible for a good boat falling into an even worse state of disrepair... and I wouldn't feel the pressure of not doing more.
This pretty much sums up my state of mind about sailing as November hove into view. As much as I love it, there just didn't seem to be time to fit it in with all the other things filling the days and weeks. One of those commitments was a business conference in early November. The conference included some team-oriented activities and sailing was on the list. Four teams competed in a series of beach activities with a Hobie Cat race as the kickoff and lo and behold, my teammates quickly drafted me to skipper our entry-pretty hard to duck when the name of your company is SailNet!
Frankly, I was a little worried. It had been a long time since I last sailed. Even longer since I was on a Hobie. My teammates didn't want to hear any disclaimers. They just wanted to win. The pressure was clearly on. So off we went. The wind was great, the swells light, and our little catamaran skimmed across the bay despite being loaded down with a crew of four.
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The race faded in importance somewhere between the beach launch and the first windward mark. Yes, we stayed on the course and managed to avoid being humiliated. But, the race wasn't what captured my attention. The boat was moving nicely when I felt the sudden thrill of pulling in the sheet and capturing just a bit more speed. The tiller played in my hand and teased me with the promise of a quick jibe around the buoy. I saw my "crew," non-sailors all, smiling and thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to feel the ocean in a whole new way. It felt like I could almost inhale the salt from the warm air and I realized that I was grinning too. Like a kid who's found a secret treasure that had been lost.
That day at the beach has meant a lot to me in the past month. I've spent time reflecting on the priorities in my life and those of my family. It seems that I may have gotten off track somewhere. Spending time together, sharing an experience, "being" not "doing" is pretty darn important. There are a lot of powerful life lessons in sailing: learning judgement, teamwork, and responsibility; seeing the importance of enjoying simple things like a beautiful sunset or the way the wake curves out behind you. These are things I want my kids to have. And things we all need to be reminded of from time to time.
In case you haven't figured out where this is going... it's time for another boat-something smaller, less time-consuming to be sure, and certainly not a project. A boat I can afford to enjoy in both dollars and time. I'm not sure exactly what I'll end up with but the hunt is on. We're a family of sailors and life just isn't complete without time on the water.
Wish me luck.
Sam Boyle is the Co-Founder of SailNet. He began sailing at age 12 in a Sunfish on Lake Texoma. The next 20 years were spent squeezing sailing in around various assignments in the military and the start of a second career as a Management Consultant. Together with Cheryl, he launched SailNet in 1994 after having owned an "orphaned" 45' Ketch for three years.
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