Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
I was lying on my back in the bottom of the dinghy so fast I thought I had hit a brick
wall! As a grim matter of fact that's exactly what I'd hit! It had just happened to be hidden
barely below the surface of the treacherous, green water. My oars flew noisily out of their
rowlocks and went floating off on their own somewhere, and as I extricated myself out of
the boat I was painfully aware of the unbridled, loud, and richly deserved laughter floating
down from the drunks on the deck. Concentrating furiously so as to avoid any eye con-
tact and trying to complete the landing with an ounce of decorum, I deftly jumped out of
the boat, onto Dick Manten's slipway and promptly slipped heavily on my rear end, wildly
clawing at the dinghy's frail gunnels. I managed to stand up for a split second, and down
I went again, this time a lot messier than the first fall; the tipsy, little dinghy was clearly
no ally. All remaining expertise and cool had evaporated at this stage, and I grabbed the
dinghy's painter with naked anger and unceremoniously dragged it up the slip and to the
water's edge and safely out of the evil water. But the slip had not done with me yet, and
suddenly my feet slipped out from under me due to a healthy crop of thriving algae I had
failed to see. Down I went again, and both dinghy and I slid down to the water's edge again.
The folks on the patio were having a field day and were howling raucously with merriment.
I was beyond feeling at this stage and hated the whole damned world.
I was muttering dark threats on my way back to the dinghy after retrieving the item from
the car. I noticed someone had thoughtfully found my oars and had put them back in the
little boat. I rowed cautiously and humbly back to Déjà vu with lessons well learned on my
young mind. Of course Jude saw the funny side to this and laughed hysterically 'til there
were tears in her eyes while all I could think was how I was going to face that crowd again.
Jude and I really started to get the hang of sailing, and we became engrossed in the art of
tacking and running and going about, not to mention jibing, controlled and occasionally
otherwise. We were quick learners and soon became very proficient sailors, inviting our
land lubber friends out to sail with us.
Sheila and Elias, my sister and her Greek husband, came out with us one time, and they
loved it so much they went and bought a Dutch Boeier from Dick Manten. It was a lovely
boat of some thirty feet in length and every inch of her screamed traditional from her red
sails to her varnished outboard wooden lee boards and gaff rigged mast. They had loads of
fun on her, and many times we would hook up together with them and sail or race about
the dam.
Even Gavin, my dear twin brother, was not to be left out, and a screamingly funny incident
comes to mind. I recall it was a Saturday when Gavin came to visit, as the Vaal was a hub
of activity. All the clubs had spring regattas on and boats of all shapes, colors, class, and
size were out racing up and downwind like so many colorful butterflies. It was a typical
sunny day, and it was a joy to be alive, especially if you were young and happy and busy.
