My AHA Moment
My ‘AHA’ Moment (as published in the 35th Anniversary issue of Cruising World Magazine.)
My AHA Moment came unexpectedly. I was working as a Detective in an Undercover Unit of the Toronto Police through the 90’s, at a time when a lengthy war between rivals was taking a heavy toll. The work schedule was extreme and massive amounts of overtime, lost weekends and days-off was the norm.
My boss, Al Macdonald, Mac, a man I’d known over years of working with suggested, strongly, that he and I take our scheduled holidays down in Florida so we could have a much-needed Break.
Now as a man who had been involved in amateur road-racing cars and motorcycles for 20 years, skydived, downhill-skied, scuba dived and loved just about every other adrenalin-inducing activity, the stress of the work wasn’t overbearing, but the constant pace of only work and no fun was wearing thin.
So I said, “Why not.”
This is almost a direct quote of the conversation we had back then.
I asked Mac “what’re we gonna do in Florida?”
He replied “I keep my sailboat in Key Largo, we’ll go sailing.”
I, new to sailing, said “ Cool. Where to?”
He answered, “Key West.”
I said, “How far away is that?”
“About a hundred miles.”
“Great” says I, “how long will it take us to get there?”
“Three days” he replies.
“Three %$*#@! Days!!!” I shout, “I can walk there faster than that!”
“Trust me” Mac said, “You’ll love it.”
Now I knew a little about Key West. Mac had brought some Buffett discs into the office for background music while we worked cases, and wearing Hawaiian shirts had become our office trademark. So I figured that with 2 weeks off, 4 days to drive there and back, 6 days sailing there and back, I’d have 4 days to terrorize Key West and party like we knew how to. That became my motivation for the trip, sailing being only the delivery method to the Party!
So despite the unenjoyably glacial pace we’d make sailing, off I went.
The road trip proved great. Remember you never really know someone until you vacation with them, and I figured we were off to a good start. The boat was nice, a 1986 Aloha 32 named “Hummaduffer” after a rum-punch Mac had invented one night. She had cavernous storage and was well equipped and Key Largo was great. We prepped the boat and headed off.
And within mere moments I was a sailing convert. My AHA Moment had begun.
The combination of silence, the motion of the boat, the feeling of her surging when the wind filled the sails just right, the scenery and the company all solidified a feeling growing within me. This was the most relaxing time I think I had ever experienced up till that point in my life. The smile never faded from my face and getting to Key West didn’t seem so important anymore.
Mac let me steer while he navigated, busying himself around the boat, trimming sails and making lunch. He taught me the basics and I ate them up. Any mechanical necessities needed I took care of, glad to use knowledge I had up till then only used on race cars. We sailed, anchored, ate, drank, talked, swam and cleaned the barnacles off and got to know each other better. We told tales, and lies, listened to Buffett, stopped at Plantation Yacht Harbour on Islamorada to tank up and partied the night away with the locals, sailed more, anchored off Lignum Vitae, hooked a hammock between the mast and jib that I rocked away in until the freshening wind made the pendulum effect too great, repeated and continued on to Key West, where we had a blast draining the town dry.
The sail back was a repeat of the fun we had on the way down, but leaving the boat proved to be harder than I could have imagined. This had been a blast and I was in no hurry to return to “The Life!”
So when Mac suggested the following year that we do it again I leaped at the chance.
Stepping back aboard I knelt down and kissed the deck, saying “Hi Sweetheart, I’m back!”
And so I became a sailor.
Four times we made that trip together, before Mac sold the boat. Each time the lure was the sailing, not the destination. Four times I fell in love again with sailing.
Since then I’ve subscribed to, devoured and saved every issue of Cruising World, completed one 7 week delivery from Trinidad to Fort Lauderdale, aboard a nightmare of a boat that proved to be a great experience, and sailed aboard everything I could get on.
I even picked up a nick-name, the Shameless Sailing Slut, because I’d sail with anyone, anywhere, anytime on anything. My wife Dolores and I married at The Soggy Dollar Bar on Jost Van Dyke on a charter in the Caribbean 3 years ago and we continued to charter in the Caribbean each winter. I’ve done some racing too, as a mate twice in the Lake Ontario 300, although I much prefer a lazy cruise.
Hummaduffer’s gone now, renamed and in new hands. I miss her and hold fond memories of how she and Mac changed my life. I don’t make that statement lightly. I’ve given up racing cars for slower passions, started a Parrot Head club in Toronto and formed a Trop-Rock band. Last year I retired from the Police Service after 31 years and we moved from hectic Toronto north to the quiet shores of Georgian Bay. Last fall we bought our own boat, a 30 foot Catalina we named “Guilty Pleasure” which lived on our property all winter.
Today, Monday the 18th of May 2009, was the first day I sailed her. The smile returned tenfold as I took the helm of my very own sailboat. Fittingly, Mac was right there on board her with me.
We’ll be sailing the North Channel this summer, embracing the life Hummaduffer introduced me to, coincidentally where she began her own sailing life 23 years before.
Mac and his wife Margaret became two of our best friends and are happily about to buy a new boat and sail off on their own retirement. We look forward to many new experiences afloat.
Mac took my picture on that first trip, while I was at the helm, and the smile on my face said it all. He told me many years later that he knew then and there he’d made a convert of me. I have that smile still, every time I step aboard a sailboat, and I experience that very same AHA moment again and again. Just like I did today.
Norm and Dolores Marshall
Penetanguishene, Ontario,
Canada.