Sailing

Driving back to Indiana from Chicago today, I had to stop for the opening and closing of a bridge down around 89th Street. This part of the south side of Chicago is its "port", where quite large ships bring in various types of cargo from Lake Michigan. It's the one area of Chicago that reminds me of Tidewater Virginia. I'm always interested to see what type of ship is causing the bridge to be opened. Today's traffic delighted me! And I was probably the only one in the line of cars feeling delighted.

The boat harbors along Chicago's lakeshore empty out at this time of year (I think they officially close on November 1st), and the boats' owners must move them into winter storage. Guess where much of this winter storage is? Exactly. Just past my bridge. So I was treated to the migration of six sailboats of varying sizes as they motored from Lake Michigan inland on the Calumet River to their winter homes. As they went upriver, a tug passed them, heading out into the lake, pushing a ponderous barge full of shipping containers. I think I must start bringing my camera along in the car--the afternoon sun bathed the whole scene in autumn's glow and those sailboats were worth a photo.

Whenever I've had the opportunity to spend time sailing, I haven't wanted to come ashore. Nothing really equals the way a sailboat speeds up and heels over when the sails fill, when you hear only the swish of the water as the boat cuts through. A sailboat is alive in a way that a power boat never could be.

I often wish I had even a small sailboat here, because South Bend is near quite a few inland lakes and is only a short drive to Lake Michigan. My family and friends always talk me out of it (quite prudently, of course). They also talk me out of buying a Vespa, but that's another issue. I console myself with the thought that my cousin Charles owns a satisfyingly large sailboat back in Tidewater and I can sail with him.

The boat I would really like to own would be a Hampton class, a two-person open cockpit sailboat developed in Hampton Roads back in the 1930s. My Uncle Jeff, who was a born sailor, sailed and raced them with the Portsmouth Boat Club when I was growing up. I loved to watch. It comforts me to know that the Hampton Yacht Club still has a fleet of Hampton boats that race frequently in the area, and that I actually could buy a new Hampton if I wanted to.

Here's a tip for an enchanting series of books featuring sailing: the Swallows and Amazons books by Arthur Ransome. Ransome based the stories on his own childhood experiences. He writes about several groups of children who spend their school holidays learning to sail in the Lake District in England during the 1930s. My daughter and I discovered the books decades ago, and I re-read them every so often. If you have children, I recommend them. If you like a solid but charming narrative, regardless of your age, I heartily recommend them. The boys and girls in the books mix sailing with all sorts of imaginative and independent play. They are good shipmates, warm friends, brave souls, and incredibly practical to boot.

The Swallows and the Amazons taught me that a good ship needs a good crew. A good crew knows how to work together, how to respect the strengths of each member, and how to balance their focus on the job at hand with their pleasure in being on the sea.

I hope I get caught by a boat parade next time I drive to Chicago!