by Verna McCrillis
As Dick and I hit the empty nest stage, we started searching for a hobby we could enjoy together. Dick grew up in the San Francisco Bay area and learned to sail as a teenager. I grew up in land-locked Idaho and had never even been on a sailboat before we purchased our first one in 1983, a 22-foot O’Day.
At that point in time, we had three small kids, and I was scared to death of the whole adventure. We moored the boat at the Navy marina in Jacksonville, FL. On many a Sunday afternoon we enjoyed a family outing sailing on the St. John’s River. Gradually, I warmed up to the “fun” and even began to learn a few sailing terms before we sold the boat nine years later when leaving the area. We finished raising our five kids with Holders and Lasers for them to learn to sail.
When we started thinking about what to do in our “life after children,” sailing was not even in my thoughts. We tried tennis and choir together, but neither one fit the bill. When our grandchildren started coming, our oldest son, Ryan, who had sailing in his blood, kept suggesting that we buy a big boat where we could all congregate. Personally, I was thinking a beach house would be a better fit. I just wasn’t as much in love with sailing as Dick, Ryan, and his wife, Tori were.
And then one rainy Saturday, we were all together in our daughter’s small house in North Carolina. The boys all decided to get out and leave the girls to talk about babies. They arrived back just before dinner and could hardly contain themselves. They were all giddy as they told us we needed to pack up the grandkids and go for a ride to see something they had discovered.
In the dusk, we drove to a boatyard where they proudly showed us the most beautiful boat I had ever seen. Even I caught the vision as we stood on the teak deck and peered into the portholes to see the beautifully varnished ship’s wheel lying on the settee. Needless to say, we bought the boat.
By the time we were able to bring the good ship Charis to Norfolk, our third grandchild was born. Almost immediately, we started taking the grandkids sailing. I found my place on this big 42-foot boat taking care of the babies, keeping them occupied while everyone else crewed. It was a delight for me to help them feel secure on a tipping boat, holding them and telling them stories.
When Ryan convinced us to try racing Charis, I would hold a baby with one arm and flip the running back stays with the other hand. Later, they gave me the job of running the tapes on the spinnaker and re-stuffing it in the bag, since I could do that down below with the grandkids. For the first five years, other than handing out food, those things were my only jobs on the boat.
Without realizing it, I was gradually getting more comfortable on the water, picking up the terms, and observing all the quirks of sailing an old wooden boat. When Ryan and Tori moved away, it became time for me to step up as second mate; I surprised myself with what I did know.
Yes, I have caught the love of being out on the water, salt and wind in my face, watching the sails fill as I fight with the old bronze winches that need more grease. But mostly, I enjoy sailing because it gives me the opportunity to share the adventure with my family and friends.
So when you see us out there on the water, there is a good chance you will see little kids darting around the deck. You will know that this grandma has a full heart and more than likely, a squirt gun in her hand and freshly baked cookies in the galley.
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