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 Even though we share the same water, sailors and powerboaters often have a hard time communicating since they seek different objectives with their boats. | |
Apparently, I wasn't the only one to forget to relate some our day's details, since girlfriend #1 almost balked then and there about going out on a sailboat. I overlooked the obvious disdain in her tone and assured her that we'd only go out for a little while and that I was sure that she'd enjoy the trip. I turned away just in time to avoid one of "those" looks that I sometimes get from my lovely bride after making one of the dumbest statements she's heard lately. And I was certain that I transformed into a little green troll in girlfriend #1's eyes right then, yet I didn't feel any different. Yup, looking like a short sail all right.
Motorboat Mark seemed to accept all this with plenty of cheer and with his arms full, he headed down the docks. I managed to grab my armload's full and still steer the group down the correct dock to my boat. Days later I seemed to recall that I thought my little boat actually winced when we came into view, loaded down with stuff. I climbed aboard, having already opened up and aired out the cabin and readied the boat for the day.
 This is typically where the similarities between sailors and "motorboat marks" begin and end—right at the marina. | |
Girlfriend #2 turned a bit apprehensive with my explanation about having to sit on the "high-side" when we heeled, but Mark quelled her by saying, "Don't worry, it doesn't go nearly as fast as mine." My usually well received statement about how much fun we'll have just going 10 mph fell completely flat with girlfriend #1 and with a cold stare, the little green troll disintegrated into dust.
I got my guests situated and comfortable (maybe not girlfriend #1) and we motored out of the marina and into the main part of the lake. Conditions were about as nice as possible, with a fresh breeze from the north that kept us very comfortable in the mid-80 degree temperatures. In short order, we were under full sail at about a 10-degree heel and things actually seemed quite tranquil. For an instant, girlfriend #1 almost seemed to smile at the little green troll.
Motorboat Mark broke the calm with a request for music and "Where do we go to first?" Girlfriend #2 immediately replied that "Party Island" seemed the best destination, so why didn't I head the boat that way? In between trying explaining to Motorboat Mark where and how to turn on the stereo, I also tried to explain the concept of tacking to girlfriend #2. "No, we can't sail directly toward the island because that's right where the wind is coming from. No Mark, that other switch—yes, that's it. We have to go this way first, so the wind fills the sails and then—Yes Mark? Ah, the speaker switch is below the power switch—We go that way next, gaining ground toward the island and—The volume switch is the one on the bottom right, Mark!"
Then Motorboat Mark emerges from the stuffed cabin with both hands grasping several beers, "Who wants a beer?!?" Whereas I usually don't drink anything but soda or water when sailing, I felt sure that it wouldn't hurt and would probably actually help about then. Girlfriend #1 smirked at the little green troll when he tried to clink his beer bottle against hers. The beer seemed very bitter just then.
I was surprised by how well Mark and girlfriend #1 took to the heeling of the boat, although I think girlfriend #1 would have never revealed even the slightest inkling of any apprehension to the little green troll. Girlfriend #2, however, was a slightly different story. She was nervous at the first hint of leaning over and never really felt good about it. Since the breeze was pretty light, I related that she might feel better laying on the foredeck, getting some sun. So, girlfriend #1 and 2, taking towels, helped each other to the foredeck and using their PFDs for pillows, got as comfortable as possible. The little green troll was of course, a complete dolt for not having cushions for them to lay on, like in Motorboat Mark's boat, but girlfriend #1 made due.
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| "Mark wouldn't take the idea of letting out the mainsheet, feeling the 'need for speed' and making the boat heel as far as possible, under the impression that was the fastest way to go." |
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We eventually made it to "Party Island" by the long way. I could tell that Motorboat Mark was slightly less than impressed when he commented that "It sure took a long time to get here. It would have only taken me 20 minutes or so and we'd already be grillin' somethin'!" The girlfriends seemed relieved to get off the boat and onto land—girlfriend #2 felt better that land didn't lean over and girlfriend #1 just wanted away from the green troll.
"Party Island" was its usual self, crowded with motorboats of all shapes and sizes, PWCs running amuck just far enough away so as not to hurt anyone intentionally, and plenty of sun people in skimpy swimsuits enjoying the day. Motorboat Mark and I carried the coolers and whatnot from the cabin to the island, Mark greeting a whole group of friends who were already there. I was introduced around as "Mark's Sailor Buddy, Lee."
 Even sailors at some point must crank that engine, but the end result is hardly the same. | |
Back at the dock, Motorboat Mark and I lugged the armfuls of stuff back to his truck where girlfriend #1 was waiting, all of them having used only a fraction of everything brought. Girlfriend #2 thanked me for a nice time, but with that half-smile and tone that meant I probably shouldn't count on her going again.
Motorboat Mark, being the good friend he is, made sure to invite me out on his boat next time, "For a great, fast time—we'll do it up right!" Girlfriend #1's look made it perfectly clear to the little green troll that she wouldn't be caught dead ever again in the company of the little green sailor troll, no matter what. As girlfriend #1 turned and huffed off, the look fell harmlessly off the little green troll's suit of sailing armor. I thanked Motorboat Mark and let him go with the statement of hope of a good time and a promise to get back to him soon about going on his boat—maybe to go fishing. I too am a combination boater, but I guess I'm classified as a Sailor/Fisherman/Troll.
Boat Lovers' Classification Sailors: - Racers: sail for the "fun" of beating the pants off their friends around the racecourse. Always barge the starting line and are usually the first to be heard hollering "Leeward!!" or "Starboard!!" Revel in the knowledge that even though the new set of sails cost more than a month's salary, the $5 trophy for coming in first in the Spring Race Series was well worth it. - Cruisers: sail to be with friends and just to get away from "it all." Can be found on their boat or in the club house with equal frequency. Might not actually go sailing at all, being quite content to invite friends out for snacks and drinks on their boat that could actually be replaced with a covered picnic table if it wasn't on the water. Motorboaters: - Fun-Seekers: drag water-skiers, tubers, and anyone that's stupid enough to be dragged behind a boat. Will usually take turns being both the dragger and dragee. Can often be found where other boaters congregate, partying it up beside what amounts to his or her expensive water taxi—just follow the loud music and BBQ smoke.
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