Sailing

So when I was a kid, we didn't have a lot of money.  The railroad would occasionally have layoffs, and my dad always seemed to be at the bottom of the totem pole.  He worked for a variety of places during those times doing things like driving tow truck and doing regular car mechanic work to keep us in our home.  Mom, the budget queen, made sure that no matter how much money came in, we were always clothed and fed.  But because of that, we never went on any fancy vacations.  Just trips to visit relatives, which was always good enough for me (what can I say?  I have a fun family).  I can't count the number of times I went to the beach or up to Grandma and Grandpa Chiapuzio's place up the mountain, but I remember my first airplane trip was with my school choir to New York when I was 17.  The first time I'd been east of the Cascade mountain range, let alone the Rockies.

But something they did splurge on was a sailboat.  Before I was born, they bought a 24 foot racing yacht and had it moored in Newport, Oregon (that's at the ocean, for all you Midwest people).  A couple of my dad's younger brothers came out and sailed with them in Newport sometimes, and also when they kept it at Fern Ridge reservoir near Eugene.   When I was born, they still had it at Fern Ridge.  I don't remember much about that lake except that the caretakers of the park had a daughter close to my age and they had a hammock that we played in.  My mom says when I was Sam's age or so (3) I was reading the letters and numbers on the boats in each slip (the registration numbers), and wasn't looking where I was going.  Walked right off the end of the dock.  She pulled me out immediately (and I was of course, wearing a life vest) but I wonder sometimes if that's part of the reason I dislike ever having my head underwater.

Sam did the same thing the other day....looking at something and not watching where he was going....walked right into a telephone pole.  Well at least I know he's my kid, right? *sigh*

Anyway, just before my brother was born (I think?) Dad moved the boat from Fern Ridge to Dexter Lake up off of Highway 58, east of Eugene.  At this point, Dad actually let me start helping with stuff on the boat, although I was still really too young to help with much other than tie up lines and steer.  I spent a lot of time in the cabin instead.  Part of this was because the heeling of the boat freaked me out.  A LOT.  The other reason was because if I was out on the deck, I had to wear my lifejacket, which I hated.  Some kids camp with their families.  We camped out on the boat.  Another thing that freaked me out, because my "bunk" was near stowage spaces (yes that's spelled correctly) that were dark and musty so they must have monsters or spiders or I don't know.....I got over it when Lucas was little mostly because I didn't want HIM to have to sleep in the "scary" spot.  Too bad I didn't know at that point he wouldn't have cared. =P

Unfortunately, when we moved to Portland, Dad had to sell the boat.  One, river sailing can be a bit trickier than lake sailing (especially in the Columbia, lots of sandbars to get your keel hung up on), and the other, bigger, reason was because the cost of moorage in Portland was almost 3 times what they were paying in Eugene.  My college friends all know about my "study hammock" that I carried around with me  on nice days to hang from a tree and read in.  That was one of the storage hammocks from that boat.  The rocking motion was comforting to me (and still is.  I love me a comfy hammock).

So you wanna know why I'm writing all this down?

"Baker Street" by Gerry Rafferty came on the radio this evening.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2j7uAimpx3k

When that song comes on, I can hear it in my mind as it sounded coming from the little transistor radio we had on the boat (tuned to the pop music station...), and I can smell the foam and nylon of my lifejacket, the mustiness of the cushions and my coloring books, Mom's pancakes (waffles at home, pancakes on the boat), and see the look of the marina lights on the water at night.  I miss it more than I thought I did.