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FIRST TIME SAILING AT ACSC

I stepped carefully around goose droppings on the dock and climbed into a seven-foot-long, three-foot-wide boat, despite Lake Merritt’s murky water. The boat felt tiny. My legs dangled over the sides. After casting off the dock, I drifted, baking in the sun. The summer of my ninth birthday, I moved to Oakland. I was quite a shy kid, spending most of my time at home or in the driveway playing with my siblings. My mom signed me up for Lake Merritt boating so I could try something new. I would cram myself into the little boats and try to stay cool while the sun beamed down. Without wind, the sail would hang limply over the boat.

Three years later, my parents and I decided it was time for more of a challenge. I started sailing at the Alameda Community Sailing Center (ACSC). I remember walking through the gate at ACSC. It was foggy overhead with a strong breeze coming off of San Francisco. I followed my instructor to our classroom, its makeshift roof covered in sails. Just outside of the classroom area were the RS Feva sailboats we would be using. On my first open-water sail, I would be solo. I had heard stories about students capsizing and the Coast Guard getting involved, and I was nervous about letting my instructor down. I did not want to be made fun of and hold up the rest of the group. My mind spun with “what if” scenarios.

As I rigged up the boat, I kept double-checking everything. I was looking forward to sailing in the wind, experiencing a challenge I had never faced before. But I also wanted to go at my own pace and stay comfortable in the feeling of safety. Upon launching off the beach, I tried to get my bearings. I wanted to go slower to ease my nerves, but I started to fall behind the rest of the group. My instructor doubled back to check in. He saw my flapping sail as I struggled to stay on course. “Pull your sail in and turn upwind!” my coach shouted. I hesitated briefly, then followed his instructions. I felt the sheer power of the wind and boat as it took off down the cove, heeling over with each gust.

The large waves splashed over the bow and into my face as I struggled to stay pointed upwind. My fingers and nose felt like icicles in the cold water and wind. I could feel the water below me lap at my calves. The boat heeled so far that I could see the daggerboard slicing through the water. Adrenaline surged as I fought to control the boat. Finally, I reached our destination. I clumsily got out of the boat, nearly flipping it as I fell over the side into the icy water. Realizing I could still stand comfortably, I dragged my boat onto the sand.
About 20 minutes later, it was time to relaunch our boats and sail back, hopefully an easier task. I sat down comfortably in the hull, with my feet propped against the railings and the sail blocking the sun from blinding me. The wind had lightened, easing my control over the sail. My lower back grew soaked from the water in the bottom of the boat from earlier. I yelled back and forth with one of my classmates; we sailed parallel to each other and threw a tennis ball between us. The repetitive rocking of the boat was relaxing, and the cold water was grounding.

Upon returning to the site, I was tired. I still had to lug the heavy, water-filled boat back up to the site. Pulling it across the sand was a pain; it was heavy, and the dolly’s wheels pushed the sand forward as I lugged the boat up the sand-covered ramp. I was delighted to peel off my wetsuit and get changed back into warm clothes. Adrenaline finally died down as a calming feeling swept over me.

On this sail, I learned the importance of listening to my instructors and of manifesting what I want. In this, I had to get over my more cautious side and just commit to sailing. The feeling of exhilaration wasn't only from the speed, but also the realization that I could do whatever I set my mind to.