night sailing on CHEESECAKE aka Jolene

Night Sailing

There is a certain magic in night sailing. Starting with dusk and the anticipation of sunset, the senses take on a new perception. The sun, seems less hot. Not the god of war and destruction now but a soothing light enveloped in all the hues of love. The moon will now be visible and eternal lovers will encounter each other in the heavens. Stars light up the evening sky and the world readies itself to start the night shift. Like all creatures, we welcome the change and prepare for it.

Ever since I started sailing the Sunfish back in Puerto Rico, I enjoyed the dusk sail. On the Sunfish it was my custom to sail around the Fajardo waters, arrive at Icacos Key beach for a short lunch and beach time and then lazily sail back in the afternoon hours to enjoy my dusk sailing back to my launch area of Playa Sardinera on Puerto Rico’s East coast. On big boats, the same applies. As dusk approaches, I prepare for the night watch in two ways. Always safety minded, out comes the harness, the life jacket, the extra flashlight, flood lamp, etc. Inside, I also prepare, settle the mind down, contemplate the sunset, ponder the gentle rotation of our planet as we fly through the cosmos, appreciate being alive as the stars light up my soul. And before I get mushy, let us turn to Laser sailing.

My laser’s name is CHEESECAKE, ‘cause she is so sweet to sail. Lately her name has acquired a very appropriate and fashionable “aka”. CHEESECAKE is aka Jolene. And like a biker trash friend of mine would say, “if I have to explain, you would not understand”. I try to race as many Thursday nights as I can on the laser. As the season progresses, the last Thursday nights have us finishing in darkness. This make finding rounding marks tricky, especially since we do not carry GPS or chart plotters on the lasers. We all manage one way or another and there are always big boats around so you can pick up marks by following the parade of running lights.

These last Thursday night races provide me with wonderful sunsets on the water and my beloved dusk sailing. Racing aside, there is certain awareness that only happens at night.

Perhaps not being able to see the puffs or the waves, incoming wind lines or lulls in our path, we automatically augment all the senses. The heaving water has a pattern that needs to be felt, the sheet in your hand, taught as it is transmits the gentlest information about the wind’s behavior. Suddenly, you instinctively feel the pressure on the tiller and even if the tiller extension is not yet crowned with a jade knob, you come know the ways of the sea. Alone as you may be on that cathedral of creation, dimly lit by the night lanterns of stars, moon and other heavenly bodies reflecting the sun’s light beams, there is peace to be found. “You ARE a child of the universe, no less than the trees or the stars, you have the right to be here and whether or not it is clear to you, the universe is unfolding as it should”….quoted from DESIDERATA.

Solace is found.

If you have never sailed at night, I invite you to try it. Just go sailing on a regular day and refuse to come in until the sun has set and dusk is upon you. Then, enjoy the moment.

Dry notes department: for night sailing on a little boat as the laser or sunfish, the Coast Guard Minimum Safety Requirements call for having a flashlight on board. I have found that one of those that you charge up by shaking, serve well and being sealed, they hold up fairly decent against the water environment; also not having to deal with trashed batteries is good. I also tie a glow stick to the webbing on the top of my sail. At that height, I am showing a light all around that reaches well above the water to be seem by passing boats in the area.

Tiller Time and a jade knob on my hiking stick

Tiller Time and a jade knob on my hiking stick

It seems that with all things in life, doing it often produces the best results barring the natural talent some folks are born with. The musicians tell the joke of the tourist who asked the cab driver, “how do you get to Carnegie Hall?” and the cabbie (perhaps a musician himself) answered, “practice, practice, practice” Thus it is obvious that in order to master something we must serve that something first. Surrender to its allure and give ourselves to the magic pull of the practice. Force ourselves to trudge in failure and surmount the obstacles with courage in the knowledge that enlightenment sometimes occurs in subtle rays of light as we open our morning blinds or it strikes with enough force to knock you off a horse.

My sailing is certainly full of romantic passion, I know about laminar flow and my nautical exploits cover racing and cruising the Caribbean, Tampa Bay and the Gulf of Mexico all the way to Isla Mujeres and Key West. Many high performance platforms have I sailed. Even though we do not carry one on the laser, I even know what a triatic stay is. Yet, I am not there yet. Mastering sailing takes a lifetime of doing. On the Laser, on the Lippincott 30, on the J120, on every boat, every outing teaches us some nuance that brings even more value to the experience. If only our senses would always be open to the teachings of the sea, the winds, the currents, the immense cathedral of creation. And I continue to ask, “would the waters remember my wake?”

The story about the jade novice and the jade master comes to mind. With credits to whom they belong as I do not know the author of the story and I affirm I read it many years ago.

As I remember it, the story loosely goes like this….

In the ancient Orient, Jade is considered primal matter. Jade is assigned virtues and powers as honest, true, longevity, god like. Hence, it is not a rock but a state of being to accept Jade as this valuable element. So, a Jade novice is said, wanted to learn everything there was to be known about Jade. He had already studied its composition, the many variations of Jade, the way to carve it, the way to present it, the many ways Jade could touch the soul, still he wanted more Jade knowledge. In his quest he was directed to the door of the Jade Master castle. There the honorable Jade Master received him into what the novice thought was going to be the apprenticeship of a lifetime. That first day, the Jade Master placed a piece of Jade in his hands and proceeded to talk about the mysteries of life. At the end of the day, the Jade Master wished him a good evening and left him alone. The second day, the Jade Master received him again, placed another piece of Jade in the novice hands and proceeded to talk about the wonders of nature all day long. Like the day before, when evening came, the novice was left alone. Every day went the same, the Jade Master would place a piece of Jade in the novice’s hands and proceed to talk about animals, the sea, religion, politics, etc. Our novice though respectful was becoming irritated and some desperation was affecting him. He had been respectful, he had been attentive to the Jade Master, day after day he had heard the Jade Master speak about wonderful topics but not one secret about Jade, no Jade magic, no Jade cryptic origins. He was ready to tell the Jade Master how disappointed he was and that either the Jade Master started teaching him about Jade or he would quit. Set this way in his mind, the novice went to sleep.

The next morning, gathering all his courage and determination he presented himself to the Jade Master. As all other mornings before, the Jade Master placed a piece of Jade in his hands though this time the Jade Master had replaced the piece of Jade by a rock that just look like Jade. Before even thinking about how to address the Jade Master about his short comings, the Jade Novice feeling the impostor in his hands exclaimed, “this is not Jade!” Thus the Jade Master told him, “now you know everything there is to know about Jade”. It was obvious to our Jade Novice now that he so intimately knew Jade that he could tell by the touch of his fingers the structure of real Jade. With a deep bow he honored his Jade Master and went home.

Hence, Tiller Time is what we all need, an open mind, friendly competition, a willing heart and a trusting soul. “We are the children of the Universe, no less than the trees or the stars we have a right to be here and whether or not it is clear to us, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should” quoted from DESIDERATA by Max Ehrmann).

So, if you spot a Jade knob at the end of my hiking stick, now you know the rest of the story…good day. Quoted from Paul Harvey.

Arriba los viejitos

Arriba los Viejitos!! Or I’ll rest when I die.

Arriba los viejitos is a popular “saying” in my dear Island of Puerto Rico. It loosely translates to “up with the old guys/gals”. Los viejitos can when they do. We all have the will and the spirit, it is typically the body that gives in before the spirit does. It is a great spirit which pushes and carries the body pass exhaustion and pain into glory. The results column invariably misses the struggle, the clawing, the unyielding character of those who choose to battle until the battle is done or until the last breath escapes our bleeding lungs. The ones that strive and push beyond the limits of what is expected are always praised and admired. Secretly, we all appreciate those who refuse to go quietly into the night.

Laser masters come in all sorts of shapes, colors, sizes, etc. but they all share those characteristics embodied by their many colorful bumper stickers. “Cheat the nursing home, die on your laser”; “too old to hike, too young to die”. As we prepare for one more regatta, that cautious but challenging Spartan farewell comes to mind, “e tan, e epi tan” almost translates to “return with the laser or on the laser but not without the laser”. Another quote that comes to mind was used by Shane Falco (Keanu Reeves) on the movie The Replacements, “pain heals, chicks dig scars, glory lasts forever”. And so we dress up for one more. In the company of kin minded friends we launch our lasers into the eternal waters that saw our birth and will remain after our passing. Will the waters remember our wake?
And so I call on you as I call on myself, strive, fight, struggle, refuse to yield, roar like the storm. We can all hike more, point higher and better our lot. There will be plenty of time to rest when we die. But we are not there yet sailors. So while there is will, let’s make a way.

SunCoast-DIYC Inaugural Laser Regatta

SunCoast-DIYC Laser Fleet’s Inaugural Regatta

Based out of Davis Island YC, the newest SunCoast-DIYC Laser Fleet is certainly up to something big. This last Saturday, June 5th, was our first event. 12 sailors from this area including some that travelled from Lake Eustis, Sarasota and Orlando enjoyed a fantastic set of 7 races. Conditions varied from a light air start to a slow building wind which topped the 15 knots for the last few races.

Our race committee performed an outstanding job reconfiguring the starting line to adjust for the afternoon sea breeze. And before we get any further, let us mention the R/C volunteers by name as without them none of our racing could happen. The signal boat was Sofa King, skippered by Captain Robi Robinson, serving on the signal boat was our PRO Mike Dawson and his enthusiastic assistants Del Palmer and Louise Neuburger; both coming from the ranks of our Dinghy Dames. The mark boat was our venerable club launch Guardian which was smartly operated by Tom Turton and his assistant Jack Whitwam.

Our own Buzzy Heausler left us with a template to follow as he posted nothing but bullets across 7 races. Way to go Buzzy! The rest of the competitors fought hard and well as the appended results will show. What the results will not show is the tenacity and dedication of all the sailors to do well and better their skills. In a class where you are considered a Master at 35 years old, it takes a lot of stamina and will to go around the course in such a tippy and high performance boat. We had 9 standard rigs and 3 radial rigs. After the racing was done, quick friendships were made at the Tiki Bar and promises for more Masters and regular Laser racing out of our Davis Island YC. The competitors commented on what an active membership we have and were impressed by how welcoming our members and facilities are. They will be back with their friends to help us continue to be the sailingest club in the South.
Rounding up the event we had a trophy ceremony amongst much laughter and some serious commitment for more of the same. Jackie (our bar tender) kept the Tiki Bar and the sailors in very good spirits. The goodies included US Sailing decals and bumper stickers as well as Laser Class decals and bumper stickers which included handing out the much celebrated “Laser Master’s” bumper stickers. One reads, “Laser Master – too old to hike –too young to die” and my favorite which reads, “Laser Master – cheat the nursing home – die on your laser”

Here are the results:
DIYC Laser Suncoast Regatta June 5, 2010

Race Race Race Race Race Race Race Base Throw Final
Place Sail# Name 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Pts out Points Prize

1 18 1131 Buzzy Heausler 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 7 -1 6 1 – Davis Island YC
2 18 5456 Jeff Olson 2 3 2 3 2 2 2 16 -3 13 2 – Sarasota Sailing Squadron
3 18 4547 Eric Robbins 4 4 5 2 4 3 5 27 -5 22 3 – Davis Island YC
4 19 1963 Dave Hillmyer 5 2 3 6 7 7 3 33 -7 26 – Sarasota Sailing Squadron
5 16 4806 David Olson 7 10 4 4 3 5 6 39 -10 29 – Sarasota Sailing Squadron
6 19 1581 John Poulson 3 7 6 5 dnf 6 4 44 -13 31 – Davis island YC
7 15 5481 Kevin Ratigan 12 6 8 8 5 4 11 54 -12 42 – Sarasota SailingSquadron/Orlando
8 17 5556 Anthony Scott 6 8 9 7 6 9 8 53 -9 44 - Sarasota Youth Sailing Program
9 5 6566 Alejandro Illera 8 12 7 10 8 8 9 62 -12 50 – Lake Eustis Sailing Club
10 15 5456 Antolin Rivera 9 5 10 9 11 10 10 64 -11 53 – Davis Island YC
11 17 6267 Donna Steele 10 11 11 11 9 11 7 70 -11 59 – Sarasota Sailing Squadron
12 19 1959 Carrie Greene 11 9 12 12 10 12 12 78 -12 66 – Davis Island YC

As the SunCoast-DIYC Laser Fleet captain, Antolin Rivera acted as Regatta Chairman but my job would not have been possible without the assistance and guidance provided by Eric Robbins and Carrie Greene. The regatta fairies worked really hard to make this one possible, thanks so much Eric and Carrie.

cheat or fair is fair or mom really did a number on me

Cheat or “fair is fair” or, my mom really did a number on me.
Mom never heard the famous sailing quote of Mr. Elvstrom, "You haven't won the race, if in winning the race you have lost the respect of your competitors." Neither did she ever sailed a Laser or any boat for that matter except day sails aboard Shipajoy I in Puerto Rico and Shipajoy II here in Tampa Bay. She in fact only went to the beach occasionally or at least far less frequently than the average Puerto Rican. I for one could have been a remarkable beach bum but that is another story dear Linda Litke.
She, the one that I remember as a lion with a woman’s face, had a different upbringing. She worked hard all her life, unabatedly strove to better her lot and refused to yield no matter the foe. Her tiny frame contained a huge heart and if the spirit had mass, hers would have been the proverbial unmovable object. Yeah, you could say she was bull-headed too but in a nice way. Mom hated falsehood above all other human faults. Her soul was open to all in the most sincere of ways but cheats were branded as such for life.
There are so many examples about those life lessons that I could fill tomes and manage to bore you out of this blog. Growing up with her meant a strict adhesion to the principle of fairness…”what is right is right and that is that”. To find a wallet full of money and credit cards meant an immediate call to the owner. Being deceitful to get and advantage was beyond her understanding.
Growing up with her meant these precepts were a fact of life which brings us back to Mr. Elvstrom. "You haven't won the race, if in winning the race you have lost the respect of your competitors." How many times have you witnessed a guy in front of you ooching downwind repeatedly or rock ‘n rolling or worse yet, rolling and fanning the main with a tug on the tiller effectively “rowing” the boat? He may be a better sailor but he is also ahead because of his deceitful ways. Is he beating you? Perhaps, but not really. He is not competing like you, he is cheating. He is the kind of guy who may “rub” a mark and not do his turn unless somebody protests him. But, you can tell that if the infraction occurs and he perceives that nobody saw it, he will smile and keep going.
Our sport is too precious to spoil it with that conduct. Life is too precious to go through it constantly thinking in terms of “The Art of War” chapters. If anything, we should go through life in the terms of “Desiderata”. All except the part that goes, “Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth”. There I believe we should “cheat” the nursing home and die on our lasers! And I quote, “Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.”

Sailing CHEESECAKE

Sailing CHEESECAKE
To my friends and readers it is pretty clear that I LOVE sailing. There are so many reasons whilst at the same time, no particular reason at all. I just love being on the water.
I envy my son and all those “youth sailing program” kids that I have coached through the years. Being exposed to sailing at such age. Bewildered every single day by the new emotions you feel commanding a little pram about. Contemplating nature by being part of that nature. When you see a dolphin surfacing close to your vessel for the first time, when you hear the loud puff of their breath as they reach for life giving air; they too are seeing you, you too are part of their environment. There you are, next to the dolphin, the pelican, the majestic osprey, jelly fish with no Sponge Bob Square Pants hunting it. You ARE that child of the universe, no less than the trees or the stars…
My sailing experience did not come at a young age. The day of enlightenment occurred after I had lost my innocence. Perhaps it happened then because that unfolding universe saw a man in need of solace. At the grand cathedral of creation I find solace indeed. Perhaps that is why I sail as much as I can, I need to furiously regain the wasted years of my youth without sailing. I need to catch up, erase the damage and heal my soul.
Presently, I sail the family Lippincott 30, crew on a racing only J120 and J24, race my laser and still miss the windmill. I have raced and sailed on many platforms, the biggest has been a 50 footer, the smallest was my son’s opti which I took out sometimes between practices, at lunch break and at odd times when the kids were busy with a chalk talk and the opti was just sitting there waiting to be taken out for a spin. There is a sunfish in my past, actually my first physical boat was a sunfish. There is a catamaran in my past as well, boat number two (pun intended) was a nacra 5.2.
Of all the boats, none more demanding of purpose, none less forgiving of lapsed attention than my beloved CHEESECAKE. She demands me, at my best, I am absorbed by her. Sailing my laser is such a pleasure. Oh, I pay for it too. Many aches come from hiking, rigging, capsizing, swimming along to catch up to her after a wild capsize, etc. Yet, I ride her in contentment. There is a certain moment in which all that is pure and simple and true becomes tangible. You can almost smell, touch, see, hear and taste the feeling of righteousness. Can you touch an image in your mind? Just like the lovers separated by the terrible curse on the movie Lady Hawk, for just an instant at dusk and dawn could they see into each other’s eyes and almost quite touch each other in human form but the faint vision fades away all too swiftly leaving the human in tears and the beast in rage. On those moments when my laser and I embrace in a dance following the music and rhythm of wind and sea, my soul is witness to the romance of the sea. The falling sand grain stops in mid flight and I devour it, feasting on the moment.
And, if you ever wondered why I call my laser CHEESECAKE, it is because she is so sweet to sail.

Words that I like: SOLACE

Words that I like: solace
English is my second language. As an apprentice of the language, I appreciate words, some more than others but all words have their independent meaning and reason of being. Big as opposed to tall can be an offensive word to a dear friend of mine. She is not big, she is tall; handsomely so. Words may hurt way deeper than sticks and stones. The wounds from words may not seem real but the scars on our souls can really burn for a lifetime.
Life itself can be unfair at times. Changing fortunes, declining health, love not corresponded, deceiving people; all of those and many more can tax one’s soul beyond despair. And despair can be a dark and bitter enemy whose thorns claw flesh and spirit shredding our will.
Enter solace. A drink of life giving water in the midst of Death Valley. Solace comes in many forms. You have felt solace in the kind words of a friend, the smile of innocence, a silent embrace that warms and soothes; so many can be the sources of solace. Unfortunately, sometimes friends are not there, innocence is lost, loving arms can be distant in place or time. Solace has to be found in more permanent places. I have several sources of precious solace but none better than the solace found on the water, out there where nothing is but the sea, you and the vessel you burden. Yeah, the grand cathedral of creation receiving one more hungry soul. Her face changes all the time but mother ocean is always there for us. Her winds a whisper or a scream, her watery skin calm or agitated, her, always present in all her unabated glory. In her I find solace. Tiller in hand, I ride her surface. Feeling the wave under my vessel, the winds in the sail, the perennial motion of her substance. Absorbed in this environment solace presents itself. I lose myself in the moment, however long the moment lasts. And in those moments, innocence is found and a loving mother embraces my soul and whispers in my ears the words of Desiderata, particularly this verse,
“You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.”
It beats me up but I sure love sailing that Laser!!

From Senior Customer Engineer Level 5 to Novice Yacht Broker

From Senior Customer Engineer Level 5 to Novice Yacht Broker

This, the third entry of my new blog is the one that has taken the longest to produce and is also the one loaded with all sorts of deep and soul heavy emotions.
My college education ended on a Friday, the next Monday I started my new job in the field of computers and systems support. Besscorp was the name of my first job in electronics. A papa-mama shop who tore away from Burroughs some 15 years before. Great little shop, component level repairs on desktop calculators, photocopy machines and mini-computers. I was a bench monkey. To this day I can recite from memory the color codes on resistors, I can even do some bolean math in my head. At Besscorp I learned my first lessons on direct person to person customer support. It has always made me feel good to be the facilitator, the guy who confronts problems and finds solutions. Little problems or highly complex problems spanning across two or more companies, applications, and systems. At Tandem Computers (and through all the corporate logo changes) I always wore my Senior Customer Support Engineer Level 5 certification proudly. Always happy to see the face of my customers when I show up at their computer rooms, the look of relieve on their brows, in the knowledge that I was on their case and somehow, one way or the other, things were going to work out fine.
Well, that is what I did for years on end. Besscorp, my own Electronic Programming Services venture, Burroughs, Tandem and with Tandem the disaster of Compaq/Digital/hp. It was with hp where my systems support career ended. Never a bad performance review, always a met or exceeded goals grades, tons of attaboys for jobs well done, exemplary Y2K (remember the madness?) conversions, huge appreciations from my direct customers and system managers. Alas, it seems none of that mattered when I turned 50 and was about to enter my 20th year of service at hp. A phone call from my non-manager manager within a month of the death of my mother to announce the news of my promotion to the “work force reduction program” and an exit interview in a parking area next to a McDonald’s. Class all the way. Bastards.
There are plenty of good stories from the years of servicing big companies and their computer systems but…we will explore those latter, for now, we will go to the middle of the center of the convergence of that proverbial fork in the road.
Unemployed. Never since I was 17 years old had I been unemployed.
What to do? Back to computers seem the logical choice but there had to be more to life than that. Certainly the steady money, 401k plans, medical coverage, etc. was appealing but unappealing was…the long hours, the on-call nights and weekends, the burden of being ON all the time. Come on, carrying a cell phone while racing a laser because I was on a systems alert or duty manager for the State…I needed to breathe.
Good to have friends though..ever so good to have friends! Over coffee at the club, my dear Herman points out that I love sailing, boating, fishing, talking to people, being nice, helping folks, safety first; you ought to be a yacht broker he spurts. Yeah, yeah a yacht broker. Three years earlier I almost become one but being gainfully employed at the time and not knowing that the greedy bastards were aiming at me, I shied away from pulling the trigger. This time it was different. I needed a job and the means to make a living.
Again; funny how things work out. I was at the yard with my beloved SHIPAJOY on the hard having a lot of work being performed on the running gear, cutlass bearings, engine mounts, new shaft…you get the idea. A guy is having his catamaran surveyed for sale and he is looking at my Lippincott. I am looking at his catamaran. We start a conversation. Turns out he is a yacht broker, the boat is being surveyed to be sold to fresh new owners. We spoke some more and he suggests, “we are looking to hire a new guy”. I am giddily surprised at this “coincidence”. Furthermore, his manager shows up unexpectedly at the yard to check on the cat’s survey. We get introduced and I get interviewed right then and there. The details from here on are boring. Until we get to the part where hands are shaken in agreement and I become the newest yacht broker at Yacht Sales Florida, part of the Florida yacht Group. I have a desk overlooking the Harborage Marina, my fellow co-workers at the office are very knowledgeable, experience, helpful and fun. My new manager is awesome, such an experienced businessman but so light and jovial all the time. My mentor has cradled me from day one and continues to give me all sorts of advise and insights into the selling world. Just two weeks ago, we closed the office at 1600 and took a new Jeanneau 33i for a short spin on Tampa Bay! The five of us on a sailing trip. Nice.
I am getting in at the right time, the market is ticking up, my company is growing, the Miami Boat Show 2010 was a blast, we just opened an office in Miami, the Florida Yacht Group branding is in full ahead mode, my mentor has sold 4 boats since January 2010 (including that catamaran), we represent used and new boats. We are dealers for new Jeanneau, Hanse, Fountaine Pajot, Carver, Moody and on the East Coast we also represent Beneteau. Exciting times indeed.
Licensed, bonded and ready to serve you with the same enthusiasm and pride as when I was the Senior Customer Support Engineer Level 5 and Duty Manager for the State of Florida.

some pottery for the weekend

Hola.

Thanks for visiting again.

As pottery is the second topic on the blog's title, I figured an article on pottery should follow the sailing the sunfish for the first time.

Pottery or the liking of it started way back when I was in 8th grade back home in Puerto Rico. We had "art" class one full semester and I was hooked....alas, just for that semester. But I liked it. The feeling of the soft clay squishing through wet fingers and the little items taking shape by my hands. The neural index card got filled in and stored.

Fast forward to about 4 years ago.

And, I am thinking about the need to have some "hobby" to ease my mind (see, sailing is not a hobby, it is a lifestyle). The mental rolodex spun and that old index card popped up. Pottery it said. Sensual, artsy, earth connection, creation. A quick search on the internet produced Tampa Parks and Recreation with their many parks and art studios. I called the three or four that offered pottery and put my name on all the waiting lists. Soon enough, Rosie, the angel that runs Taylor Art Studio gave me a call saying my name was up!

The format was simple enough, one class each week lasting 3 hours between 1800 and 2100. At Taylor's I met Rosie who to this day remains my friend and dear buddy. Rosie is the heart of Taylor's for sure. There is so much to write about my first lessons and the obstacles centering clay presented, etc. Those articles will come later. For today I'll just report on the epiphany moment.

After centering your clay and pulling your form up from the clump, you have to leave it alone to dry to a hardness that will be firm enough to "carve" or "turn" the piece so that you can trim the foot, attach dreaded handles (more on that later too), style the bottom, etc. One tuesday evening I sat down to turn a piece and soon after I stood up to get a hot tea like everybody else. I came back to my wheel tea mug in hand ready to trim. The first sip of the tea was scolding hot so I sat the tea mug next to me and started turning the piece to trim the bottom. My second sip of the tea mug found the contents almost cold; I had spent 40 minutes totally absorbed in the trimming process. Alienated from the world, just fixed on cutting clay away from my piece and shaping it as I better saw fit. And that folks was the moment in which I knew that pottery was going to be a life long craft for me to pursue.

first lesson: how it all began...almost

THE FIRST LESSON
by Antolin Rivera
October, 1997

A dedicated sailor introduced me to the sport, but a magic elfin helped me tune my senses to the wind.

Milan.

She was European, beautiful and well tanned, right to the edge of her tiny bikini. Milan gave sailing lessons on a small lagoon that splashes a hotel and tourist section in San Juan, Puerto Rico.

I had formed a passion for sailing with Clara, but the romanticism was there for Milan to develop.

I would have followed her anywhere, and I did, to a long rack of Sunfish along the water.

The wonders of sailing may have cost me $20, but to hear Milan mispronounce my name in her melodious accent added to the enchantment.

Perhaps all it was for her was a seasonal job between semesters, but it changed my life.

Through the years I have proven that to myself time and again by the same contented grin when I look back on it.

Clara Diez had talked about the wonders of sailing during coffee breaks. Our offices were next door to each other, and even though we had never sailed together, Clara always had a sailing story to share with me.

Her weekends were full of canvas and sunsets, wind puffs and waves. The camaraderie of sailing buddies and dreams of getting away from it all, in easy installments, a weekend at a time, if not forever.

Clara's tales intrigued me.

Then Clara did something that just blew me away! She burned the savings for her new car on a trip to Australia to see the America's Cup defense!

That's what I call passion, bordering on abandonment. I had to experience it. I had to learn to sail.

Milan pointed to the first available Sunfish and we pulled it to the water's edge. She began gathering implements, calling each by name: centerboard, mainsheet, tiller, rudder, on and on the terms flew my way.

She handled herself like an old salt. Her youth disguised by the graveness of her demure.

Part by part the Sunfish came together as a wind-propelled vessel. Each article mentioned by name again. We did it a second time and some parts were becoming familiar to my ear. Like a mantra she recited the use and name of every piece of equipment for the third time. Adjusting her tiny bikini, she asked if I had any questions.

"No," was my response.

"Wind," she said. "Wind is the basic element here. Feel the wind. Look around and see the wind acting up. Tune your senses to the wind."

"No wind, no sail. No wind, no life, simple as that."

Once on board, Milan took the tiller and mainsheet in hand, motioning me to sit between her and the mast on the same side of the boat. Gently pulling on the mainsheet translated a gentle breeze into forward motion.

We were sailing. Just like that, amazing!

The Sunfish came to life at her command. Pushing through little waves, bouncing off bigger ones. A tug on the tiller, a little more mainsail trim and we sped away.

Absorbed in contemplation, Milan narrated the moment. Her technical explanation lost in my wandering mind. Milan was vaguely describing the effect on the sail, dry words that could not paint the mind picture I was living.

A wind vehicle, capable of swift travel across the expanse of my imaginings. Way before the first tack, my inner child was already changing directions in life; rediscovering the womb and the myriad of emotions I felt every time Dad swam beyond the buoys, bound for deep blue water, carrying me on his back.

Back on the dock, Milan said her work was done. But she said I still had half an hour to go, sailing on my own. The first capsize, the first wild jibe, resulting in yet another capsize. Sailing back to the dock in one very wet piece.

They were secondary chords to the symphony my soul played to the tune of the wind.

The neural connection had been made. The Great Spirit breathed in my mind the wind of life.

Funny how life works. Clara and Milan led me to open a long-forgotten door where all the emotions that could be had lay awaiting my dare.

The lesson continues to this day. Years after the enlightenment, I eagerly anticipate the next sail. Every outing I listen to the wind reverberating across my soul.

Wind: a grand pipe organ in the cathedral of creation.