Learning to dock a boat...

Once there was a guy who had boating in his blood. It was like the milk of memory flowing through his viens and it was thick as history. He was destined to be the man who sailed the seas and brought back tales to tell with great deeds and fine adventures aplenty. That was then...

Here I am. I have been out of the game, out of the sea, away from neverland for so long that I have forgotten everything. It all went away. I had to begin again. It was awful. Of course, I still had the old confidence. I still thought I knew how to bring a boat into port. But I did not.

On the date of delivery, I had to have a captain take my boat with me on it from Shilshole to Gasworks Park. A journey of no more than 2 miles, because I had forgotten how to drive and bring a vessel to the dock. It was bad.

Beyond that, I was determined to bring back my old days of mooring boats (mostly small) along side great and small piers. I was determined to recall the ways in which that happened. I tried at times to take the family out on the lake. I tried to get the boat to obey me. It would not. I was frustrated. I was losing confidence. I was losing face with the wife (who holds a captain's license let's not forget!). She was afraid to let me go out in the boat. What could I do?

Two weeks ago I told her I wanted to get out on the water and sail. I told her I wanted to take her. I wanted to ride the wind. it would be a very good day for it and she would love it.

She acquiesced.

I had been thinking. Remembering the ways of boats. Remembering how they move. How they turn. The way they move under power. I was thinking in equations, differential calculus. Creating the image of the perfect exit from the slip. The perfect landing at the dock on the other side of the lake. The triumphant return home. I replayed these thoughts at their appointed times. And so it was.

The outing, a success.

Feeling well, I got the mojo back. A long time had passed between the feel of tiller and the hold of the wheel. The time long ago as a youth, and the now of my older years bringing it all back. The power of a larger vessel in my control. It happened as it had to, and I have the old love of the sea again. With the full acclaim of my wife. The partner of my choosing. The one I could not, with out her will, do this. And it feels like coming home.