by Kenna White
Jamie untangled the rigging and straightened the sail before guiding them into position behind the boat.
“Hi, Juliana,” Jamie said, trying to calm the child’s fear. “I bet this is your first time in a sailboat, right?”
“Yeah.” Juliana was doing a frantic doggy paddle with a firm grip on Dana’s hand.
“Sooner or later everybody tips the boat over. It’s no big deal. Usually you learn how to right the boat a little later in your class. My name is Jamie and I’m going to teach you how to stand your boat back up.”
“Okay.” She spit a mouthful of water, struggling to keep her mouth above the rolling waves.
Jamie noticed Juliana fighting against the life preserver, not trusting its support.
“Don’t fight your life vest, sweetie. It’ll hold you up just fine. It has sufficient buoyancy to keep your head above water. Just relax. Easy slow leg kicks are all you need to stay in place.” She reached down and guided Juliana’s legs into a simple kick. “Like this. Just like a frog. In and out. You’re wearing an expensive life vest. Let it do its job.”
Juliana reached for Jamie’s shoulder, her eyes were huge.
“Are you sure?” she said with a nervous twitter in her voice.
“I’m sure.” Jamie smiled confidently, taking her hand and squeezing it. “That’s what I’m doing and I’m not wearing a life vest.” She looked over at Dana whose face was nearly white. “That goes for you too, Dana.”
“I am. I am.” There was near panic in her voice.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m just peachy.” She coughed out a splash of seawater. “My brother will never forgive me. I told him I’d take care of Juliana. First time out and I crash the boat and dump us in the harbor.”
“Relax, Dana. Juliana is fine. She’s not hurt, are you, kiddo?”
Juliana shook her head as she bobbed through the waves.
“And you didn’t crash the boat. You did exactly the right thing. If you hadn’t laid the boat over, you would have collided with my boat. Sailboats don’t have brakes like a car. You have to know how to abort the run. I assume this is one of those week-long sailing classes, right?”
“Yes.”
“They would have had you intentionally lay the boat down at least once before the week is over anyway. You need to know how to right your craft, Juliana.” Jamie kept talking, hoping to reassure them and calm their fear enough to climb back aboard.
“Can we do that then and get out of the water?” Dana said.
“Sure. Juliana, I need you to put your feet on the centerboard and grab onto the side of the boat. Can you do that?”
“I think so.”
“Do you feel the centerboard?”Jamie helped position Juliana’s feet on the board that extended down through the bottom of the boat and into the water.
She nodded.
“Stand up on it. Put your weight on the board. The boat will tip back toward you so hold onto the side.” It did, leaving Juliana suspended in mid-air with her rear pointed out into space. “Now step back on the centerboard. The mast will come up out of the water. When it does, I want you to swing your leg over the side and climb in the boat.”
Juliana continued to hold onto the side and bob up and down with the boat, her eyes apprehensively large.
“It’ll tip over on top of me.”
“No, it won’t. Just swing your leg over like getting on a horse.” Jamie held the tiller, helping stabilize the rocking.
“Go ahead, honey,” Dana said reassuringly. “Do what Jamie says. Swing your leg over.”
“Aunt Dana, you do it.”
“Go ahead, Juliana. You can do it. This is part of learning to sail. Do what Jamie told you.” Dana paddled out of the way and smiled encouragement. “One, two, three, step.”
Juliana took a deep breath and bobbed her rear in the air to gain momentum. Finally, she took a step back on the centerboard and lifted her leg as the sailboat righted itself. She scrambled over the side and sat up, a relieved smile on her face.
“All right, Juliana,” Jamie cheered. “Good job. Perfect the very first time. Now, pull the tiller hard to port.”
“Where?”
“Pull it all the way over and hold it there until Dana gets on board. I need you to move to the other side when she climbs in. You will be the counterbalance.”
“How am I supposed to get in there? We don’t have a ladder.” Dana said as Jamie reached over and floated her into position.
“You don’t need a ladder. I’ll help you. Hold the side.”
“I can’t get up there!”
“Yes, you can. Of course, if you’d rather, we could go looking for your key ring,” Jamie teased.
“Very funny.” Dana grabbed onto the side of the boat.
“Now throw your right foot over the side.”
“My foot?” Dana looked back at her in horror. “How am I supposed to get my foot all the way up there?”
“Like this,” Jamie said, cupping her hands under Dana’s bottom and heaving.
Dana came out of the water long enough to hook her foot over the lip of the boat. Jamie temporarily dipped below the surface of the water but came right back up, wiping the water from her face. Dana was left hanging from the side of the boat by two hands and one foot like a stuffed cat suction cupped to a car window.
“Pull yourself up,” Jamie said.
“I can’t. I’m stuck.”
“Lean the other way, Juliana. Here she comes.”
“I told you, I can’t,” Dana argued.
“I’m going to push. You pull.”
“No, no. Don’t push.”
“Get ready.”
“No, Jamie. Don’t push!”
Jamie placed her hands on Dana’s bottom.
“No, I can do it myself,” Dana insisted.
“Pull.”
“Don’t push!” Dana sounded shrill and frightened.
“Pull, damnit.” Jamie pushed Dana up, kicking furiously to keep her own head above the water.
“Ouch,” Dana squealed, struggling to get her leg over the side.
Jamie took a deep breath and gave a big push. Her face once again submerged. Her hands slipped into Dana’s crack, but the force was enough to vault Dana over the side.
“Pull yourself in,” Jamie said, spitting water.
Dana rolled into the boat and sat up.
“Oh, my gosh,” she gasped.
“Are you all right?” Jamie asked, holding onto the side to catch her breath.
“My bathing suit,” she said, her eyes huge.
“What bathing suit?”
“I’ve got a bathing suit on under my shorts.”
“And it’s up your butt, right?” Jamie grinned.
“Yes. Seriously up there.” Dana wiggled in her seat.
“Sorry about that. My hands slipped.”
“Take your shorts off and pick it, Aunt Dana,” Juliana said, dutifully holding the tiller.
“No. I’m not going to take my shorts off and pick it.” Dana leaned back and forth, obviously trying to relieve her wedgie.
“You may have to do what Juliana said. Scientifically speaking, sometimes the only way to extricate an impactment is to pick it.” Jamie winked at Juliana.
“I am not going to pick it in public,” Dana said stoically.
Jamie laughed and shook her head.
“What are you doing out here in the harbor?” Dana said, obviously happy to change the subject. She continued to daintily fidget with her bathing suit.
“Collecting algae samples. You didn’t mention you were going sailing.”
“I didn’t know I was until this morning. This is my niece, Juliana Robbins.”
“We met,” Jamie said, reaching over and patting Juliana on the leg. “How are you doing, Juliana? Are you okay now?”
“Yeah. I’m a little cold but I’m okay.”
“You might check around and see if you can find a shorty wet suit. It’ll keep you warmer if
you have to lay the boat down. You too, Dana.”
“Maybe we won’t have to lay the boat down again. We’ve done it once. That’s enough.” Dana pressed her hands through her hair.
“That was fun, Aunt Dana. Can we do it again?”
“No. Not today.”
“Next time you feel the boat going too fast to control it, luff the sail. Let the sheet out.”
“And what does that mean?” Dana looked up at the top of the sail.
“Let go of the rope that controls the boom, the pole at the bottom of the sail.” Jamie reached up and wiggled the boom. “It’s like taking your foot off the accelerator. The boat will slow down and usually will right itself if it is heeling one way or the other.”
“What do we do now?” Dana held the end of the rope, waiting for instructions.
Jamie held onto the boat and kicked her feet to slowly turn them toward open water.
“Put the tiller amidship, Juliana.”
“Like this?” she said, pulling it to the middle.
“Exactly. Dana, pull the main sheet, the rope in your hand, until you feel the wind start to fill the sail.” The boat lurched forward, dragging Jamie along for the ride.
“Now what?” Dana said, leaning forward as if poised for what came next.
“Now, have fun.” Jamie let go and dropped into the water as they floated away. “Watch out for the boom. It’s going to cross the boat.”
Dana and Juliana ducked as the boom swung across and extended out the other side. The sail filled with wind and sent them cruising back to the middle of the harbor.
“Thank you, Jamie,” Dana called, waving her arm.
Jamie waved back, then swam back to the boat and climbed in. Hanna was there waiting, watching the sailboat as it drifted away.
“Do you think they know what they’re doing?” Hanna said doubtfully.
“Sure. And if they don’t, they’ll learn. That’s why it’s called a class, Hanna.” Jamie patted her shoulder and went back to work labeling the samples.
Chapter 7
Dana and Juliana walked the four blocks from the houseboat to the Yacht Club for their Tuesday afternoon class. It was a warm afternoon with gentle breezes under a cloudless blue sky. All Juliana could talk about was how they had to lay the boat over and how she was the one who righted it. She had picked up many of Jamie’s nautical terms and proudly used them as if she was an experienced sailor. When Juliana mentioned capsizing the boat to her father and how much easier it would have been to right the boat had they been wearing shorty wet suits, he wasted no time in buying them matching suits. At least he tried. As Dana expected, she and Steve spent fifteen minutes at the marine store arguing over who would pay for her outfit. Dana won but only by using her feminine wiles. She threatened to tell Steve’s new boyfriend he was afraid of any insect smaller than a breadbox and that he slept with a light on until he was twenty.
The store clerk had laughingly told Dana she didn’t need to wear underwear with the shorty. The all-in-one zip up neoprene suit fit like a heavy girdle, holding everything in place from knees to neck. Dana was sure the decorative seam design would leave a permanent imprint on each breast, looking something like a racing stripe down her front and up her butt in the back.
“You’re not going to wear that hoodie, are you, Aunt Dana?” Juliana said.
Juliana’s shorty was black with a wide pink stripe down each side. Her figure had not begun to round so it fit in one straight shot down her trim little body. Dana’s shorty was black with a lavender stripe and to her shock and embarrassment, fit all too well.
“Yes, I am. I can see every lump and bump through this thing.” At least it didn’t give her a wedgie, she thought.
“It looks dumb,” Juliana whispered, after looking at the other sailors congregating for the class.
“But it covers that second slice of pizza I had last night,” Dana whispered back. “I didn’t know these things were so revealing.”
“Jamie wore one.”
“Yes but she has the right shape for it and she’s used to wearing one.” Dana had to admit Jamie looked good in hers.
“I can’t wait until I have boobs like yours,” Juliana said without whispering, turning a few heads. Dana felt the adults (and one teenage boy with roving eyes) sizing up her bosom.
“That’s nice, honey,” she said, clamping her hoodie closed over her chest as she blushed.
“Dana and Juliana Robbins,” the instructor said, referring to her clipboard. “The boat you were in yesterday has gone in for repairs to the rigging. We’re going to put you in a faster boat today. It handles about the same as a Lido. It just isn’t as wide and the draft is shallower. It’s called a Laser,” she said, pointing to what Dana thought looked like an oversized surfboard with a sail.
Dana had seen some of the more experienced sailors zipping across the water in Lasers and from what she could tell they had only two speeds, fast and faster. If the Laser was a car, it would be a two-seat convertible that squealed around corners on two wheels.
The sail was hanging limp in the breeze, but Dana could almost hear it calling to her like a Muse… “Come to me, Dana. Come sail with me. But be afraid. Be very afraid.”
“Are you sure you don’t have anything wider?” she asked, swallowing hard.
“Oh, boy,” Juliana said, practically jumping out of her shorty. “That’s way way cool, Aunt Dana.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” the instructor said. “That’s the only thing we’ve got unless you want to go out in an Opti.” She pointed to the stack of tiny pale blue boats overturned on the dock for storage. They weren’t much bigger than a bathtub.
“Wow.” Juliana was standing on the dock, looking down at the Laser. It was clear she wasn’t going to settle for the bathtub boat.
“Yes, Juliana. That’s way way cool,” Dana said, gulping down the fear that knotted her throat. “Put on a life vest. Pick a big one from the rack and buckle it tight. Maybe you should take two.”
The instructor tethered the boats together like a parade of elephants holding trunk to tail and pulled them out into the middle of the harbor. After a few words of advice, the string of little boats was set free to begin their afternoon odyssey. Dana had a death grip on the tiller while Juliana manned the ropes controlling the sails.
“Aren’t we going a little too fast?” Dana said, adjusting her course to slow their speed.
“No. Go faster.”
“I don’t think there is enough wind for that.” From my lips to God’s ears, she thought.
“Look. Isn’t that Jamie?” Juliana pointed to the boat anchored just offshore.
“Yes, I think so,” Dana replied, ducking down to see under the sail.
Juliana stood up and waved her arms over her head.
“Jamie. Hey, Jamie,” she yelled.
“Sit down, Juliana,” Dana gasped as the boat began to heel to port. “Sit down right now.”
Juliana dropped down but kept waving.
“Jamie, over here!”
Jamie looked up and waved.
“Hey, Juliana,” she shouted. “How are you doing?”
“We’re in a Laser today. It’s faster.” Juliana grinned.
“I see that.” Jamie gave a thumb’s up. “Is that Dana back there?”
“Yes. She’s steering. I’m operating the sail.”
Dana stuck her head under the sail and waved.
“Hello,” she said, keeping them on a straight course.
“Pull your mainsheet tighter, Juliana,” Jamie said.
Juliana gave a tug, filling the sail and increasing their speed.
“Dana, pull the tiller a bit to port,” Jamie added.
Dana did it, adding even more speed.
“Not too much, Juliana,” Dana said. They skimmed across the water, the wind whistling through the top of the sail.
“Give another tug, Juliana,” Jamie shouted.
“No, that’s enough,” Dana said, holding her breath.
/> Juliana grinned and gave a tug. The sail billowed full and strained against the mast.
“Juliana!” Dana clamped both hands on the tiller.
“That’s it,” Jamie encouraged.
Like riding a carnival ride, Dana was too nervous and breathless to speak. She held onto the tiller, frozen in place as they sailed past a nearby boat and bore down on another.
“Let out the rope, Juliana,” Dana pleaded.
“Do I have to?” she said regretfully.
“Yes, you have to.”
“There. I did.” Juliana had only released an inch or two of line, making little difference in the boat’s speed.
“Juliana Robbins!”
“Don’t let it out, Juliana,” Jamie shouted. “Keep it tight.”
Juliana pulled it back snug.
“You aren’t helping,” Dana yelled in Jamie’s direction.
“You’re doing fine. You could go a little faster if you’d steer a bit further to port.” Jamie had to shout to be heard.
“NO!”
“YES!” Juliana insisted.
“No,” Dana said sternly. “This is fast enough.”
“No, we aren’t, Aunt Dana. This is fun. It’s better than go-carts.”
Juliana leaned into the wind, her ponytail flying and her cheeks pink. She grinned and giggled with each slap of the bow against the water. Dana bravely held their course, her knuckles white against the tiller. Finally, she eased the tiller and turned to avoid running into the marina.
“That way, Aunt Dana.” Juliana pointed back toward the middle of the harbor but the wind didn’t cooperate. The sail fluttered and flapped against the mast, unable to fill. Dana took the opportunity to regain the feeling in her fingers. Juliana pulled at the ropes and boom, trying to find wind but they floundered in a dying breeze. They made their way slowly back to Jamie’s position.
“I think you lost the wind,” she said as they came within shouting distance.
“Yeah,” Juliana grumbled, still working the ropes. “It’s a bummer.”
“Anyone can sail in a strong breeze. It takes a good skipper to sail in light air.” Jamie sat on the side of her boat, her wet suit unzipped to the waist revealing an orange swimsuit top. Dana noticed it supported her bustline like a push-up bra.