Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?
Sailing is not sitting back and letting the wind push you around and neither is life. It is taking the reigns for yourself and pushing as hard as you can towards your goal. It takes the most precise attention to the details of every sail and every piece of rope. It is taking the raw wind and water of nature and providing direction.
Two hundred boats tacked back and forth along the starting line of the Queen's Cup Race, trying to push others over early. On the Syrena, I was in charge of runners, ropes that keep the rigging upright. Weaving our way around the crowded starting line demanded tacks every couple minutes, leaving me scrambling back and forth, throwing all my weight into easing and tightening the runners as the boat rolled from one tack to another. Starts require not only agility and physical strength but a complete trust in your skipper and crew. The boats get incredibly close, almost brushing together, before snapping around and avoiding a collision.
We settled into the race as night fell. Off the port side, hundreds of bright green lights shone off the boats all headed across the lake. All of them riding the same stiff wind, united, with a common purpose, was awe-inspiring. It was a powerful reminder that the people we were competing against have the same passion for the sport as we do. Looking out at all the boats instilled in me a sense of respect for the entire sailing community and a pride in being part of it.
Most of the green lights stayed with us all night, but, to balance the boat, all but the skipper sat looking starboard, away from the rest of the fleet. We switched skippers often in an effort to make sure whoever was steering was alert. When it was my turn, I perched myself on the runner cleat so that I could see the instruments, and took the tiller. It is much harder to steer out in the open water, with nothing to use for direction but the thin needle on a compass and the digital number blinking out the heading than close to shore with landmarks to use for reference. With the wind, waves, and current buffeting the boat, I was constantly checking our heading to make sure we didn't blow off course.
When Angela took over, my eyes were exhausted from staring so long at the small compass. But I was proud that I had been trusted with the tiller and steered us safely.
Because of the heavy winds, everyone was required on deck all night, sitting on the rail, looking out into the dark. In the midst of the rolling water and endless sky you can't help but feel small, but I discovered a solace in knowing the world is much bigger than I. No matter my small troubles, the wild wonderful world will still be out there. Sailing is something I will continue to do for the rest of my life not only for the adrenaline of the race, and the sensation of flying over the water, but also for these long stretches that give me a chance to appreciate the immutable bigness of the earth.
I am so proud of our crew of 10 for placing fourth in our division. But I am even prouder of myself for following my sense of adventure and becoming part of the crew in the first place. Sailing keeps me working hard for a taste of freedom. It makes me stronger, teaches me patience and cooperation, and more than anything how to keep my head in challenging and sometimes dangerous situations. I know that I am a person worth depending on and I feel that I proved my weight helping my crew through the Queen's Cup.
Sailing is not sitting back and letting the wind push you around and neither is life. It is taking the reigns for yourself and pushing as hard as you can towards your goal. It takes the most precise attention to the details of every sail and every piece of rope. It is taking the raw wind and water of nature and providing direction.
Two hundred boats tacked back and forth along the starting line of the Queen's Cup Race, trying to push others over early. On the Syrena, I was in charge of runners, ropes that keep the rigging upright. Weaving our way around the crowded starting line demanded tacks every couple minutes, leaving me scrambling back and forth, throwing all my weight into easing and tightening the runners as the boat rolled from one tack to another. Starts require not only agility and physical strength but a complete trust in your skipper and crew. The boats get incredibly close, almost brushing together, before snapping around and avoiding a collision.
We settled into the race as night fell. Off the port side, hundreds of bright green lights shone off the boats all headed across the lake. All of them riding the same stiff wind, united, with a common purpose, was awe-inspiring. It was a powerful reminder that the people we were competing against have the same passion for the sport as we do. Looking out at all the boats instilled in me a sense of respect for the entire sailing community and a pride in being part of it.
Most of the green lights stayed with us all night, but, to balance the boat, all but the skipper sat looking starboard, away from the rest of the fleet. We switched skippers often in an effort to make sure whoever was steering was alert. When it was my turn, I perched myself on the runner cleat so that I could see the instruments, and took the tiller. It is much harder to steer out in the open water, with nothing to use for direction but the thin needle on a compass and the digital number blinking out the heading than close to shore with landmarks to use for reference. With the wind, waves, and current buffeting the boat, I was constantly checking our heading to make sure we didn't blow off course.
When Angela took over, my eyes were exhausted from staring so long at the small compass. But I was proud that I had been trusted with the tiller and steered us safely.
Because of the heavy winds, everyone was required on deck all night, sitting on the rail, looking out into the dark. In the midst of the rolling water and endless sky you can't help but feel small, but I discovered a solace in knowing the world is much bigger than I. No matter my small troubles, the wild wonderful world will still be out there. Sailing is something I will continue to do for the rest of my life not only for the adrenaline of the race, and the sensation of flying over the water, but also for these long stretches that give me a chance to appreciate the immutable bigness of the earth.
I am so proud of our crew of 10 for placing fourth in our division. But I am even prouder of myself for following my sense of adventure and becoming part of the crew in the first place. Sailing keeps me working hard for a taste of freedom. It makes me stronger, teaches me patience and cooperation, and more than anything how to keep my head in challenging and sometimes dangerous situations. I know that I am a person worth depending on and I feel that I proved my weight helping my crew through the Queen's Cup.