It is out there on the rim of the Earth, where just the two of you stand bonded together against the harshness of the elements that a father passes on the true meaning of life, which is to make sure you have enough beer and chips on board.
Seriously, a sail boating trip is the perfect opportunity for a father to teach his son how to meet a crisis calmly and to survive in a world where Dennis Hopper does television commercials for the Gap.
We started in the grocery store where I taught my son how to stock his ship with only the bare necessities to sustain the male life form. We selected items from the food-you-can-eat-with-yourfingers group, the chocolate group, the beer nuts group and the amber-colored liquids group.
I explained to my son that such items as napkins, plates and cutlery were unnecessary bulk on an all-guys trip because without women around you can always wipe your hands on your T-shirt, unless you’ve been using your Tshirt as a plate, in which case you can use your stomach.
Once under way, and with my confidence buoyed by successfully exiting the harbor without hitting anything significant, I started to teach my son a few nautical things such as folding the main sheets, reefing the port keel and hoisting the spritzen.
As the breeze propelled us silently along, it was time for a chart-reading lesson. Charts are maps of the sea. Every good captain keeps one eye on his chart because, as it turns out, while the sea sometimes looks relatively smooth, underneath the surface someone has carelessly scattered rocks all over the place.
Using the eye you’re not keeping on the chart, you turn the other eye skyward to plot your position in relation to the stars, thus performing a feat of extraordinary eyeball dexterity your mother once warned might be irreversible. While in this maritime position, if you can see the stars at this time of day, it means you’ve had too much from the amber liquids group and you should pull over to the side of the ocean.
Finally, it was time to attach the boat to the bottom by performing a difficult maneuver that nautical experts call “dropping the hook.” We then row ashore to explore a small sandy island.
Sitting on the beach, fulfilling ourselves with more food from the high-calorie group, watching our boat gently bob on the waves, my son said: “Dad, do you notice how the sunset makes our boat look smaller and smaller all the time?”
As I ran and then paddled our dinghy furiously, I momentarily regretted not taking time to explain the engineering principles involved in a rising tide and a short anchor line.
Ah, but when a father is passing on knowledge from one generation to the next, it’s hard to cover everything in a day.
ET CETERA
The 82nd annual Pet Parade will pack the streets of downtown Olympia next Saturday morning . This year’s theme comes from the movies, “Villains versus Super Heroes,” and should generate some creative costumes for kids and their pets. The Olympian staff and our community partners love staging this event. Visit our website at www.theolympian . com for more information. ... According to the National Climatic Data Center, Olympia ranks as one of the cloudiest U.S. weather stations with 229 cloudy days per year. The most cloudy cities, such as Astoria, Ore., have 240 cloudy days per year.
George Le Masurier, publisher of The Olympian, can be reached at 360-357 0206 or glemasurier@theolympian . com.
