The Sailing Life’s for Me!

by Liz Hammond

            I always wanted to be called “Skipper.”  Living by Pewaukee Lake, every day I would see graceful sailboats gliding over glittering water on a balmy afternoon as I drove home from work.  Sailing definitely had an appeal to me; but I had no boat – how would I ever do that?

            But, sometimes dreams become reality.  I stopped by the Pewaukee Yacht Club to see if perhaps they had any kind of sailing classes.  Indeed, last year was only the second year the Pewaukee Lake Sailing School was offering sailing classes for adults -not kids- just like me.  Membership was not required; no boat was required; and you didn’t even have to have your own life preserver.  I, too, could be a sailor.

            With anticipation six of us met – two women and four men – giddy as schoolchildren, eager to know and experience the secrets of sailing.  We all had different reasons for taking the class:  Ron had gone sailing on his honeymoon and liked it so well, he bought a small secondhand boat when he returned.  Rick wanted to keep up with his kids who were already expert sailors.  Sergej’s motive was, “Why not?” and because it looked like fun.  For Marianne, it was the next thing to try on her list after a hot air balloon ride.

            I didn’t just want to go for a ride in a sailboat– I wanted to know how to sail one, control it, feel that accomplishment of skill.  With markers and a whiteboard, the young teacher, Joe Bitter, with his even younger assistants, patiently explained to us the terminology of sailing and the dynamics of wind and tiller.  At first, it was a bit tricky remembering all of it, especially the part where you pushed the tiller in the opposite direction from where you wanted to go.  One of the greatest mysteries was how to sail into the wind, upwind, which, to most logic, makes no sense at all.

            After a 45-minute lecture, we were taken out on the lake in E-boats, a mid-sized sailboat with a main sail, a jib, and a spinnaker, most often used for racing.  We learned firsthand the importance of wind – or more accurately, the absence of it – and about how a technique called hiking, whereby you sit on the edge of the boat and lean out as far as you can to help counterbalance the boat against the wind, can result in a very wet seat of your pants.

            We eagerly took turns working the jib sail, the boards, rudders located on either side of the center of the boat and the tiller – with lots of coaching from one of the assistants, who happened to be only 16 years old.

            The second day of classes the wind had picked up creating whitecaps on the lake.  Though sunny, Joe was skeptical about taking us out on the rough water.  When our forlorn faces spoke our disappointment, Joe asked for volunteers to give it a try – my hand was the first up, along with Sergej’s.  Of course, we were more or less only passengers on the roller-coaster ride, but what a ride!  I grinned the whole time, reveling in spray in my face and the rhythmic “ca-whump” as we pounded through the waves – we were moving fast.

            I was only vaguely aware of the hard work Joe and his assistant were doing to keep the boat from capsizing and to control the speed.  Later, the other students said that from the shore it looked like we went under the waves several times, though we always stayed afloat.  The water calmed a bit for the other students, but I was glad I had the thrill of the first sail on that wild day.

            Each week’s class began with a review of terms and techniques.  Though the arrows and drawings made sense on the whiteboard, it was something else to remember it at the moments needed in the sailboat.  It seemed the harder I thought and tried to recall what I was supposed to do when the sails luffed, or went limp in the wind, the more I drew a blank.  It finally dawned on me that the best way to learn was by doing – by feeling how the wind was blowing, by the feel of the tiller in my hand, the way the boat felt in my legs and seat as it moved.

            After a while, I quit worrying over terms and techniques, though I eventually did learn them, and just moved with the boat.  I learned by experiencing how the boat responded to the sails being let out, or to tacking to turn the boat.  I quit being afraid of doing it wrong and that’s how I finally caught on.  Though it sounds corny, you do sort of “become one with the boat” in order to sail it effectively.

            By about the third or fourth lesson, Joe was letting us go out on our own in small M16 boats with two sails, which required only two crewmembers, no teacher on board.  Of course, he was never far away, zipping around in a speedboat, bullhorn in hand and giving us directives.  The first evening of our solo sailing, I paired up with Marianne – we two women were going to show the guys how it was done.  Marianne was a bit nervous at first, but we did great.  One of us would man the tiller and main sail, while the other controlled the jib and called out wind directions.  It was during that first solo sail that I finally understood what Joe meant by seeing the puffs of wind on the surface of the water – a sort of dimpling or darkness.  It was very satisfying to recognize it and then make the boat respond the way in which I wanted.  I began to understand, too, the value of teamwork in a very dynamic setting.

            The wind on Pewaukee Lake could change in an instant – success in a sailboat, neither capsizing nor stalling, requires anticipation of those changes and a quick response; it helped to have a reliable crewmate.   Later, Joe even had some one-man C- boats for us to try; of course, one of the guys managed to turn it over, but that’s all part of the joy of learning to sail.  To be competent, one has to know how to right the boat, too.

            By the end of the four weeks of lessons, several were inquiring about the cost of buying a sailboat and where were the best deals – we had definitely caught the bug.  Knowing how to sail a boat made it much less risky to consider actually buying one.  The costs were not as high for a used boat as I would have thought.  Of course, then there’s the question of where to store it and needing a trailer and paying the launch fees – but feeling the breeze in your face, hearing the quiet “swoosh” of water against your prow, the flap of the sails, the view of the setting sun on the summer lake – now that’s worth any price in my book.

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