True Mariner Research Paper
Any good sailor will tell you it is those who travel with the wind are the true mariners. Growing up in a community of power-boaters, I did not understand the meaning of this statement. The idea of sailors considered anything but cheap, arrogant, or poor boaters was foreign. My first powerboat was a dinghy my dad bought me at age 10. At 13, I bought my own powerboat. By 15, I had operated anything from a dinghy to half million dollar yachts.
My first opportunity to sail arose before my 16th birthday. A family friend discovered a 12’ single person O’day from the late 1960s last registered in 1978 on a property he’d purchased. Following a brief crash course on sailboat operation from a power-boater I took the boat 400 yards offshore and back
with no problems, a complete success. One week later, I bought my first sailboat for a mere $600. The boat, a 1972 AMF Sunfish, resembled the O’day I had used. After extensive cleaning, waxing and hull repairs it was time to venture on the water. Little did I know, sailing would be one of the most frustrating, yet rewarding challenges I have faced.
With the boat in the water I was all but ready to set sail. When it came time to push off, the boat wouldn’t budge, I found myself stuck in waist deep water with the wind blowing in my face. Being inexperienced, I didn’t know I had to set sail diagonally if I had any desire to make real progress. Within minutes, I was able to take off and found myself a half mile from shore.
Attempting to head back to shore I turned the boat 180 degrees and was hit in the head by the metal boom. I plummeted into the water and upon surfacing, was greeted with my sailboat tipping towards me. I attempted to steady the boat, to no avail, it came crashing in to the water. With little experience I couldn’t help but wonder, is my boat going to sink?
The boat was righted and I climbed aboard, now faced with a harsh reality, I needed more experience. I made my way back to shore feeling tired, bruised and beaten. Over the following weeks, I learned everything I could about sailing. After multiple library trips, online research, and hours of YouTube videos I felt my confidence increasing. It was time to put my new knowledge to work.
A month had passed but I was ready to get back on the water. I couldn’t help but feel excited as I raised my sail, watching the waves roll in. The sail catches wind and I am off, the boat is moving much faster than last time and upon tightening the sail I feel the boat leaning. I thought back to one the many readings I completed and realized I needed to “hike-out.” Sitting on the edge of the boat grabbing the handrail I begin to lean over the side to counterbalance while simultaneously adjusting my sail. Before I knew it, I had conquered five miles of sailing on Lake Erie. I began to adjust my course for shore and as I attempt to turn around, the boat flips.
I grabbed the line tied to the side of the hull for this scenario and crawled atop the inverted boat. I began pulling on the line while falling backwards, the boat was righted within seconds. This time, I did not give up, I continued to sail for hours. Practice makes perfect as they say and I wanted to perfect what I knew, learning the rest as I went. I no longer consider myself a power-boater. I’ve realized anybody can operate a powerboat, however, sailing is not that easy. I no longer own the Sunfish, I have upgraded to a larger performance Catamaran. Sailing is an art that requires patience, perseverance, and determination; it can never be fully mastered. Every sailing experience brings new obstacles and it takes a true sailor to be able to see it through.
My first opportunity to sail arose before my 16th birthday. A family friend discovered a 12’ single person O’day from the late 1960s last registered in 1978 on a property he’d purchased. Following a brief crash course on sailboat operation from a power-boater I took the boat 400 yards offshore and back
with no problems, a complete success. One week later, I bought my first sailboat for a mere $600. The boat, a 1972 AMF Sunfish, resembled the O’day I had used. After extensive cleaning, waxing and hull repairs it was time to venture on the water. Little did I know, sailing would be one of the most frustrating, yet rewarding challenges I have faced.
With the boat in the water I was all but ready to set sail. When it came time to push off, the boat wouldn’t budge, I found myself stuck in waist deep water with the wind blowing in my face. Being inexperienced, I didn’t know I had to set sail diagonally if I had any desire to make real progress. Within minutes, I was able to take off and found myself a half mile from shore.
Attempting to head back to shore I turned the boat 180 degrees and was hit in the head by the metal boom. I plummeted into the water and upon surfacing, was greeted with my sailboat tipping towards me. I attempted to steady the boat, to no avail, it came crashing in to the water. With little experience I couldn’t help but wonder, is my boat going to sink?
The boat was righted and I climbed aboard, now faced with a harsh reality, I needed more experience. I made my way back to shore feeling tired, bruised and beaten. Over the following weeks, I learned everything I could about sailing. After multiple library trips, online research, and hours of YouTube videos I felt my confidence increasing. It was time to put my new knowledge to work.
A month had passed but I was ready to get back on the water. I couldn’t help but feel excited as I raised my sail, watching the waves roll in. The sail catches wind and I am off, the boat is moving much faster than last time and upon tightening the sail I feel the boat leaning. I thought back to one the many readings I completed and realized I needed to “hike-out.” Sitting on the edge of the boat grabbing the handrail I begin to lean over the side to counterbalance while simultaneously adjusting my sail. Before I knew it, I had conquered five miles of sailing on Lake Erie. I began to adjust my course for shore and as I attempt to turn around, the boat flips.
I grabbed the line tied to the side of the hull for this scenario and crawled atop the inverted boat. I began pulling on the line while falling backwards, the boat was righted within seconds. This time, I did not give up, I continued to sail for hours. Practice makes perfect as they say and I wanted to perfect what I knew, learning the rest as I went. I no longer consider myself a power-boater. I’ve realized anybody can operate a powerboat, however, sailing is not that easy. I no longer own the Sunfish, I have upgraded to a larger performance Catamaran. Sailing is an art that requires patience, perseverance, and determination; it can never be fully mastered. Every sailing experience brings new obstacles and it takes a true sailor to be able to see it through.