A Fateful Utterance

It all started, for me at least, in a place called Banyuls-sur-mer on France’s Mediterranean coast. I was on a two-week holiday, in October 2007, with my old friend and new boyfriend Willie. He asked if I’d mind wandering through the marina. I know he has a long history of sailing. He lived in Bermuda for more than 20 years. He built a boat, owned a couple more, crewed in races, helped sail boats from abroad back to the island. So, of course, I didn’t mind.

We pottered along the docks and I was given a running commentary on rigs (“That one’s a fractional because…”) and types (“The differences between a ketch and a yawl are…”). I was astonished at how very little I knew on the subject. We approached one lovely looking boat. Willie knew what sort is was, and far too much about its class and abilities. As we walked by, I looked in through the lighted cabin’s window. I was astonished to see a cozy nook of polished wood, with a book-lined shelf, a glass of wine on the salon table, a television glowing in a corner. Not at all what I had expected. (My vision was more along the lines of whitewashed raw lumber ribs and planks, an impossibly low ceiling, and perhaps Nelson dying in a cramped cranny somewhere.) As I was being given a dissertation on her lines, her qualities and her rig, out popped her occupant.

Dressed in jeans and one of those classic French sailor’s shirts with the horizontal white and black lines, the gentleman in question turned out to be a handsome 30-something fellow who, not long before, had purchased the boat, given up his mundane landlocked life and planned never to return. He chatted with us for a bit…well, with Willie, whose knowledge of boats, boating and his particular boat unlocked depths of passion for the life afloat. After saying farewell, we continued our explorations and I uttered the fateful words, “I could do that.”

“You could?” asked Willie, with something closely approximating utter disbelief. It has long been a dream of his to do just that.

“Sure,” I said, little realizing what a whirligig I was setting aspin.