There was a vibrance about the people in New England that I did not understand at the time but I have since ponderd on the subject enough that I think I have it figured out. It starts in the fall all the boat owners are preparing their boats for winter storage. Every thing is cleaned, bottoms are scrubbed, snow covers are put on and the boats are moved on each yard so they are packed almost like sardines and owners still check their treasures every week all winter, except the week ends they go skiing in Vermont. Then there is the anticipation of the coming holidays, hockey becomes the talk around the coffee pot, hot chocolate becomes the beverage of choice replacing the summertime frappe (a milk shake up there), the Theater season begins and talk moves to Opera and performances at the various theaters some pre Broadway try outs and some classics, and of course hockey is still prevalent,and you can’t ignore the Celtics and basketball during this time of the year. The fall and winter are the lobster season and the lobster men are out in all kinds of bad weather tending their lobster pots I don’t know how they stand putting their hands in that icy cold water to haul the lobster pots aboard their lobster boats, but yes it is the most profitable time for them. They are one bunch of hardy individuals that I have to admire them for there grit.

The maple syurp festivals soon follow and soon conversation moves to the improvements boat owners want to make to their family boat. The boats go back in the water and there is a demand for hands to help take each boat out for its maiden sail of the season. I was invited to go on one of those sails by an engineer who worked at Sanders Associates, at that time the top company providing sono bouys to the US Navy. That is when I decided that I wanted to learn to sail. I had been attending QB meetings for several months at the invitation of Col Lee Hipson an ex PanAm clipper pilot that had been absorbed into the US Army Air corps at the beginning of WWII and he stayed on after to gain retirement. The QB met each month at the Boston Yacht club on Marblehead harbor and while there I inquired around who I might talk to that would help me learn about sailing. Duncan Mc Ginnis was pointed out as a likely teacher. We got together and spent almost every weekend racing his Lightning, “Creaper” was the first one. That year I became the fordeck crewman and we won the state of Maine championships. The next year Duncan had a new Lightning ” Beap Beap” and we won again, Duncan had been born with a handicap and had limited use of one arm but his grand father had mentored him so well on the tides and flows of Casco bay, I think we had an advantage sailing there. We went on to the New England regionals and they were interrupted by a severe but short storm that messed up the final race. We got our sails down and were not blown over but more than half of the fleet capsised. We remained upright and got back underway pretty quickly and ended up third or forth. We had not been that high in the ranking befor the storm hit so I will just say we where lucky to get our sails down in time. But that is sailboat racing.

Robin had soloed on a bicycle by then but Natalie was still with training
wheels but trying to catch up. Our back yard was a nice sloping hill
that in winter became the neighbor hood play ground, sleds, skis and all
the things that are winter fun came out. I had not skied since Walt
Schmuck and I had gone to Garmish, Bavaria and on our 26 kilometer run back to the hotel I broke a ski, the ski patrol finally brought me home
on a sled, how embarassing, but I am glad that they did not leave me out there to freeze. So sking again on those shorties was really fun again

Many years later when Mark Witt and I were stationed at Otis AFB, I
inticed him into going sailing with Duncan and me. He wrote a poem about the episode, I wish I could remember where I put it, but the day did not turn out as a perfect day of sailing that we had hoped for. We turned
turtle and ended up sitting on top of an inverted sail boat and the coast
guard had to rescue us. I had clammored aboard a near by boat and was trying to help the others but the coast guard showed up in just a few
minutes and the emergency was deminished. Back at the yacht club we
where faced with turning the boat back right side up. Mark went back into the water and un snarled some lines and we where able to right the boat. The mast was broken and I lost a good camera I had bought in Vietnam but we all survived and Duncan had to buy a new mast. No it was
not one of those pleasant days of sailing. Mark you were heroic that day
I will always admire you for what you did. Bob