Certified Sailing Geniuses

    The Big Guy and I have had an on going love affair with the Caribbean for more than 20 years, so we decided to take the plunge and sign up for sailing lessons.  We got the sailing manuals and Big, being the over achiever that he is, immediately began studying, even pulling all-nighters, as if he were a college student and it was finals week.

       “Why aren’t you studying the sailing books?” he would ask me every time he saw me with my nose in a cookbook.  I pooh-poohed the need to read the manuals, telling him that I intended to just wing it once we got there.  I also reminded him that it was him who wanted to learn to sail.  I really only wanted hang out on the boat with a glass of wine and enjoy the sunset.  Yes, I did want to know how to turn the thing around so I could get back to shore, in the event that he should accidently fall overboard.  The thought of drifting aimlessly out to sea and being forced to survive by sneaking up on seagulls, or by having to use my bra to scoop fish up from the ocean floor, was something that did not appeal to me.  I mean, who was going to shake my martini?

We flew to CA and met Captain Jon at the Pacific Sailing Yacht Club and began a week of classes that I don’t think most landlubbers could have comprehended.  We were naturals!  I mean… like…certified sailing geniuses!  We didn’t need no stinkin motor on our boat!  Then we left the dock.

Excuse me!—the sailing class that I signed up for was the one where I would get to wear the cute cover-up, sunglasses and big straw sun hat.  I could almost see my pedicured toes dipping into the warm waters, while a crisp Pinot Grigio chilled in an ice bucket.  I must have gotten on the wrong boat because hoisting sails, cranking winches and tying knots was not the sailing Army that I had joined.

     Being the trooper that I am, I put on my newly purchased, water-proof wind breaker (not an item of clothing that I had anticipated needing! {plus it's against my better fashion sense to wear a matchy-matchy outfit with my husband}), my borrowed gloves (ditto), and saluted as I asked permission to board the Titanic.  The Big Guy smiled at me; I recognized the “you can do this look”, in his eyes.  I gave him a smile and a stink eye and he recognized the “you’re so dead look”, in mine.

      We practiced stopping the sailboat in the middle of the ocean (who knew you could do that?), then we practiced rescuing the man overboard (I no longer needed to know that), and we tacked and jibed, and luffed. We broad reached and close hauled and heeled over. All without killing each other.  Then we took our solo voyage and Captain Big was as cool as a hippie on hash as he sailed us back into the harbour and right into a slip a few down from ours.  We passed our tests and now have the paper to prove that, yes, we really are certified sailing geniuses! 
     By the end of the week nobody had fallen overboard and nobody had to catch fish in their bra!  So… now I am ready to test the waters—certificate in one hand and a cool glass of wine in the other…ahhh, now that's the sailing Army that I signed up for!

Sicilian Tuna--This is a quick and easy recipe for tuna.  If I ever find myself alone at sea and catching tuna with my bra, I would make this dish.  It has only a few ingredients, which can be found on most sail boats.  Go to the "Recipes" tab at the top of this page to view it.  Call me after you make it and let me know if you love it!