Growing up in Arizona, it can be hard to get into sailing. Very hard. Harder still to get into tallship sailing. This may come as a surprise to some of you, but it's true. That's why I've decided to make a log of my adventures. I'd like to share how a teenager from one of the hottest and driest landlocked states in the nation woke up and decided to start sailing and working on ships that reach 100 feet tall and twice as long.
It all started with the books I read as a kid. Treasure Island, books about pirates, all the good stuff your average eight and nine-year-old boys are in to. I loved the idea of the open sea, and getting to see far off lands. However, my interest in sailing was rather squelched along with many other adventurous notions by responsible parents. (Looking back, it's a wonder I didn't burn a house down). I moved on to friends, school, girls.
Then, my senior year came around. Around the same time about a year ago, I realized I was on my way to becoming a bit of a man-baby. I couldn't cook, clean, do laundry, fix or create anything. As manliness points go, my dad had made me learn how to drive stick. I realized this wouldn't do, so I sat down and tried to figure out how to take a crash course in self-responsibility and start getting back on track.
Sailing came to mind pretty fast. I mean let's be honest, hauling on the lines to raise sail as a krakken rips men from the deck, while a torrent of hellwater pours on you from the skies, and the ocean itself opens its maw in a whirlpool to plunge you to the fathoms below, is hands down, the manliest stuff ever. I had to make it happen. But I also wanted to do it right. That meant no sunbathing, no cruise ships, no working only if I felt like it, and it most certainly meant climbing around the sails.
I had to do my research, anything less and I would feel even less manly than when I started. After looking through many "Sit on the deck, feel the breeze, sip a tequila sunrise, haul on a line if you feeeeeeeel like it" sailing programs, I found the one I was looking for. The Flagship Niagara. Boasting a program for ages 16 to whatever, featuring "Spartan-like sleep and work schedules" and encouraging all trainees to be "able and willing to go aloft", I knew it was perfect. There was no better way to get on the track to manliness than to arrange to fly by myself across the country, make a connection flight, land in a city I'd never seen, figure out how to get from the airport to wherever the ship was (What do they call them? Docks? Marinas? how many places could this thing be? will I just be able to say "Take me to the Niagara!"?) and go bare bones for the next month of my life.
As I hugged and waved my parents goodbye outside the airport, 2000 miles away from my final destination, I knew no matter what I had gotten myself in to, it would change my life.
© Kyle Packer
It all started with the books I read as a kid. Treasure Island, books about pirates, all the good stuff your average eight and nine-year-old boys are in to. I loved the idea of the open sea, and getting to see far off lands. However, my interest in sailing was rather squelched along with many other adventurous notions by responsible parents. (Looking back, it's a wonder I didn't burn a house down). I moved on to friends, school, girls.
Then, my senior year came around. Around the same time about a year ago, I realized I was on my way to becoming a bit of a man-baby. I couldn't cook, clean, do laundry, fix or create anything. As manliness points go, my dad had made me learn how to drive stick. I realized this wouldn't do, so I sat down and tried to figure out how to take a crash course in self-responsibility and start getting back on track.
Sailing came to mind pretty fast. I mean let's be honest, hauling on the lines to raise sail as a krakken rips men from the deck, while a torrent of hellwater pours on you from the skies, and the ocean itself opens its maw in a whirlpool to plunge you to the fathoms below, is hands down, the manliest stuff ever. I had to make it happen. But I also wanted to do it right. That meant no sunbathing, no cruise ships, no working only if I felt like it, and it most certainly meant climbing around the sails.
I had to do my research, anything less and I would feel even less manly than when I started. After looking through many "Sit on the deck, feel the breeze, sip a tequila sunrise, haul on a line if you feeeeeeeel like it" sailing programs, I found the one I was looking for. The Flagship Niagara. Boasting a program for ages 16 to whatever, featuring "Spartan-like sleep and work schedules" and encouraging all trainees to be "able and willing to go aloft", I knew it was perfect. There was no better way to get on the track to manliness than to arrange to fly by myself across the country, make a connection flight, land in a city I'd never seen, figure out how to get from the airport to wherever the ship was (What do they call them? Docks? Marinas? how many places could this thing be? will I just be able to say "Take me to the Niagara!"?) and go bare bones for the next month of my life.
As I hugged and waved my parents goodbye outside the airport, 2000 miles away from my final destination, I knew no matter what I had gotten myself in to, it would change my life.
© Kyle Packer
So what are you going to do with sailing after Niag? Once you start scratching that itch it never leaves, ask any sailor.
ReplyDeleteAhh not sure yet actually haha, going back for a nice long 3 months, so hopefully get my TWIC at least, and start looking into I don't know what else.
ReplyDeleteAwesome, best of luck! Perhaps we'll end up sailing together again. :)
ReplyDelete