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Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Sailing, France




The Mediterranean Sea tried to hold me captive. That’s right, as choppy blue waves rolled over our heads, I didn’t know if we would make it out alive. As much as I want to say Mother Nature got a little out of control, it really was my sailing skills that needed to be refined.
A smooth take off from the shore and my sailing partner and I were catching the waves. But we were soon to catch an edge so my sailing partner yelled “bonjour“, in an effort for us to turn. (That was the only French word I had down pat.) But I couldn’t get my eyes off the scenery of the charming coastline. Before I knew it, arms flailing and all, I desperately tried to grab onto any part of the boat. But seeing as we capsized it wouldn’t have done any good anyway.
As I pushed myself to the top of the water I gasped for air. The wind striking my face, I whipped my head around to see my fearless sailing partner grab the catamaran. On the count of three we tried to hop back on but slipped.
A motorized boa sensed our distress. I couldn't make out a word our French Angel was saying. The wind was blowing, my teeth chattering, waves crashing, and he spoke at a rate I couldn't even begin to process the information, except when he said bonjour!
With a team effort and taking instructions in the form of gestures, my new found French Angel, had us hoisted back onto the sail.
Upon returning back to shore a few of my French friends asked if that was our boat out yonder that had tipped. I thought about playing it cool, but as I rang out my drenched hair I realized there was no denying the fact that the sea rocked me.

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