Food is nice, but...

Jib, gyb, clew, tack, tiller, outhaul, cunningham, halyard, in irons, broad reach, close haul, main sheet, trim in, head up, hike out. Quickly, I approach saturation with new sailing terms. I had some idea that sailing involved some new vocabulary, but this is like a different language. After my instructors Frank and Graham finish going over boat parts, points of sail, tacking ("We have to stand up in the boat? While it's turning?!"), and 420 rigging, they tell us we’ll be sailing boats without an instructor in a couple of days. In response, my fellow students and I look around at each other with wide eyes.

When we go out on the lake the next day, it is overcast, cold, and windy, with the water one degree warmer than the 53°F air temperature--less-than-desirable conditions for a capsize drill. We take turns skippering (driving) the boats, and I think we all start to realize that sailing is not at all straightforward. At the helm of a 420 (normally a two-person vessel, there are three of us in the boat for instructional purposes, and it is taking on water) for the first time, I repeatedly push the rudder in the wrong direction (on a sailboat, the steering is backwards) while tentatively adjusting the tension on the sail according to Frank's commands rather than my own understanding of where the wind is blowing in relation to our heading, and where the sails should be in relation to the wind. All I know is that I am supposed to be keeping the boat headed toward the Hancock tower, and christ almighty is it hard to steer straight, especially with wind blowing, water splashing, and Frank yelling over the din "EASE OUT A LITTLE. MORE. TILLER TOWARDS YOU. NO, TOWARDS YOU."

After the other student in the boat, Bree, and I both get a turn as skipper, it is time for the capsize drill. With Frank’s help, we orient the boat with the wind across its width (in a so-called "beam reach"), let the sails luff (go slack), and pull the boat over onto its side, dumping ourselves into Lake Michigan. Fortunately, we are wearing wetsuits, but I still feel the shock of the cold water on my hands and feet and neck, and as I swim around to the centerboard (the big fin that sticks out of the bottom of the hull) and heave myself up onto it to right the boat, I have to wonder why the hell I decided to take sailing in Chicago in May, and I begin to let my old leisurely, relaxed, fairy-tale notion of sailing give way to something far more strenuous, exciting, and challenging. And cold. Did I mention cold?

In concept, sailing is deceptively elegant. Stretch some fabric in the wind a certain way, and you can move big things quickly. Like photography, another of my fascinations, sailing is grounded in science but is more art in execution, and consequently its potential complexity is never-ending. You can always get better, and inherent in the sport are as many chances for humility as there are for triumph. Put simply, I won’t be getting bored of it any time soon.

Yesterday, two and a half weeks after the first day of class, I am hiked out on a 420 in a close haul. Because the sails are positioned nearly parallel to the long axis of the boat when headed upwind, there is a considerable sideways force that makes the boat want to heel (lean to one side). To keep it flat and fast, fellow student Ed and I lean out of the windward side of the boat as counterweight. Our feet are hooked under the hiking straps in the center of the boat, and our butts, torsos, and heads are stretched out over the side in a horizontal position, the water skimming by only inches below. We tack ninety degrees, moving the bow through the wind, switch to the other side of the boat, and hike out again as we feel the acceleration of sails catching wind. It is so fun.

Flying through the water, I am reminded that the forces around us are not trivial, that 10-15 mph winds--a light breeze on land--can do something pretty marvelous over water in the hands of human ingenuity. It feels like life stripped down to what is good only, and boy is it a rush.

--> I've taken my classes at the Northwestern University Sailing Center.

--> The entry title is a lyric from a song in William Finn's musical, A New Brain.

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