I felt right at home on board the pseudo-Swedish boat, Helsing, that calls a slip in Boyne City home. It’s captain, Dennis, had placed an advertisement on the Boyne City Yacht Club‘s website for crew, and since I’m up on the lake without any particular daily schedule, I thought I might do a bit of sailboat racing.
The BCYC hosts its weekly race series on Tuesday evenings. A stiff wind was blowing all day down on my end of the lake and I was getting excited. The short drive from East Jordan was spectacular as I crossed the wide-open fields in the late afternoon sunshine, diving and rolling over the hilly landscape to the “big part” of the lake. Our house is on the South Arm of Lake Charlevoix, and though it’s over 10 miles long, it’s only a mile or so wide, dwarfing it in comparison to the main basin. Stretching from Charlevoix to Boyne City, in some sections it’s more than five miles wide and up to 122 feet deep. The winds there normally blow harder and longer, the waves several feet high. Owing to the size of the waves and the length of the trip from our house, we rarely sail on that side, and I was looking forward to the change of place.
There are ducks in New Zealand—I don’t remember their name—that mate for life. The female has a white head, and the male a black one and we first saw them while kayaking in Milford Sound. In Christchurch, they stroll through the Botanic Gardens in pairs, resting in the sun on the banks of the Avon River.
Sailing is like cycling in the sense that one climbs a mountain for the pleasure of the steep descent down the other side. The work that goes into a sailboat to prepare for a sail is rewarded by a windy day and the chance to heel the boat over so far its sails and sheets are nearly dragging in the water. And like on a road bike, there is a fine line between exhilarating and terrifying: I’m peddling like I’m in the Tour de France peloton at 43mph, and hitting the breaks at 44.
To say that it was gusty today would be a bit of an understatement. Black water spotted the lake like a dirty Dalmatian—gusts of wind broken up only by even stronger gusts. I was running with a beam reach, my preferred point of sail, and the best for heeling the boat over, but especially today, I had my limit of what was fun, which quickly became frightening. Though I’d like to lose 15lbs, my weight was barely enough to keep the boat upright (any and all bodies are invited to come up and add some weight to my boat, just give me a call!). With one hand on the genoa sheet and the other on the tiller, I hiked out as far as I could to hold my course. It was like doing yoga to save my life. Two hours of that every day and I’ll have my six-pack in no time.
It is a luxury for most people to quit their job and spend a summer on the lake reading, writing, painting and of course, honing their sailing skills. Indeed, I count myself among those people—but that is exactly what I’m doing this summer.
It was a calm afternoon when I arrived at my family’s cottage on Lake Charlevoix in Northern Michigan. Without any wind to tempt me towards the water, I spent the time unpacking and setting up my workspace. The next morning was equally calm, and so after fixing a hearty Sunday breakfast, I sat myself down in front of the computer, anxious to start crossing things off my To Do list.
A second whole winter away from Lithuania, but somehow Kalnų Ereliai lives on, if not exactly in practice (most of the kids are now part of the national ski team and train with those coaches), but always in spirit. One of my skiers, Ieva Urbonavičiūtė, again took it upon herself to create the 2011 team video. Enjoy!
It is a luxury for most people to quit their job and spend a summer on the lake reading, writing, painting and of course, honing their sailing skills. Indeed, I count myself among those people—but that is exactly what I’m doing this summer.