HIKE!

In 1969 at Dickenson St.

While pursuing my education at San Diego State I lived in a small duplex in a remote canyon by the hospital. I forget which hospital but as I was puttering around outside one day I saw a man and his son pulling a sail boat from a garage just down the street. Having not a lot to do that day I meandered down and asked them about their boat. “It’s a Lightening. She’s skittish in the water but fast.”  Having done a little sailing in the San Diego State sailing club I inquired further and finally he said: “We’re going sailing today on San Diego Bay. Want to come?” I jumped at the chance for a day on the water, a welcome break from the rigors of working full time and attending college. We launched the boat from a ramp on Shelter Island and sailed in a light breeze out into the bay.

The sails of a number of other boats were visible in the distance. As we drew closer I remember remarking to myself how similar they looked to the one we were on. I inquired again and the captain said that they were all Lightenings and today we were joining the Regatta for a race. It was going to get intense, he explained, because the designer of the class was sailing in the race. I never knew how competitive people can be trying to make the slowest vehicle on the planet go fast. I was soon to learn. We sailed around in circles near the starting line waiting for the sound of the start gun. “ Everyone on a boat has a job.” Explained the skipper. “Jonnie’s job here is to trim the jib, change sails and work the dagger board, mine is to trim the main sail and steer the boat.” He looked intently at me as if anticipating my next inquiry.

 “What’s my job?”  I asked innocently. Had I a hint of the terror to come I would have jumped overboard and swum back to the dock.  “Your job is to hike. You see those straps there? You place your feet under them and lean out over the gunwale on which ever side I tell you.” Ok. I thought. That doesn’t sound too complicated. “Starboard side hike is what I will say when you need to hike on the right side of the boat, and port side hike when I want you to hike over the left gunwale, and try to stay out of Jonnie’s way as he is working the dagger board.  The boom in the distance sounded and I wondered at the sight of each boat simultaneously aligning as if members of a school of fish, running toward the starting line. “We’re running down wind but will soon tach to the first marker, that white buoy way out there, see it? “  Relaxing on the gunwale, ever prepared to participate with my first hike, I stared across the water to see the bouy.” Oh yeah. I see it.”  “Ok when we round the bouy Jonnie will put the daggerboard down and you hike on the starboard side so you are already in position.” As we rounded the bouy I was shocked by the intensity of his yelling. “HIKE!.HIKE! NOW you fool! HIKE.” I jerked my head to look at him and the expression on his face was really mean glaring at me and scanning the position of the nearest boat. Attila the Hun would have been envious. I’m sure I saw a hint of green slime dripping from his lower lip. “HIKE! Further! You’re not leaning out far enough! Hike further dammit!”

 After another hour of intense hiking Attila says: “Jonnie. Break out those sandwiches.” Jonnie secures the genoa sheet to the cleat, broke out sandwiches and cokes from the cooler. “Finally! A break”. I thought to myself. As I started to reposition from the hike. “WE’RE STILL IN THE RACE OR HAVEN’T YOU NOTICED! HIKE!” I’m hiking and they’re eating lunch, him fanging into his lunch ferociously like a puma on a kill.  Another hour of really intense pain saw the finish line. We placed 3^rd. I was never so relieved to see the end of something and swore that my sailboat racing days were over. Attila’s demeanor on the way to the dock transmogrified from Mr. Hyde back to Dr. Jekel. “Hey. That was a great race. Lets do it again. I’ll look you up the next race. Ok?” He spoke in a gentle and empathic voice. He was all of a sudden normal again. “Ok. We came in third but that was your first hiking experience in a Lightening. Next time I’m sure we will do better now that you know how to hike. “

 “Oh sure, I thought. All my fault we didn’t win the race. For crap sake! Yeah sure” I nodded. “Today was a free day but most of the time I’m really busy working full time and going to school, and then there is my volunteer work at the hospital. “ My mind was racing for more excuses but the expression on his face signaled that I didn’t possess the blood of a Lightening Sailor. After we put the boat back into the garage Jonnie , who was about 12, told me privately that his father really was a nice guy and he just gets carried away sometimes when he is sailing. I really admired the kid for sticking up for his father, but told him not to expect to see me anywhere around any more Lightening Regattas, Lightening Sailors or even tv shows of sailboat races any time in the foreseeable future. The fear of meeting another still challenges a good night’s sleep.