Sailor Genes

I had someone ask me again last week what it was that got me interested in sailing in the first place. Tim and I have given this much thought over the last couple years, and Tim likes to place the blame for our retirement plans squarely on my shoulder, but I can't concur. You see, last week was my dad's 84th birthday and while I was looking over some old pictures of him and reviewing some fond childhood memories, I found this one:



And then there was always the boat that went along with us camping...



And the boat that took us fishing...



Oh and while we're talking about fishing in that boat...there was the time that me and my mom and my dad were out in the middle of Indian River Inlet fishing, all a little drowsy from the sun and the rocking of the boat, when all of a sudden my mom looked up from her novel and said, "Paul I think maybe that storm might be a little close to us, don't you?". I believe that was one of the rare times that I saw my dad pale. We booked it as fast as that little 14 foot john boat would go to a little island out in the middle of the inlet where we turned the boat over top of us and waited out a tremendous thunderstorm.

So you see, I was destined from day one to be a sailor. It was all in the genes.

Happy Birthday Dad, but I think it was me that got the gift.