Luxury Sail
July 29, 2023 – Annapolis, Maryland, USA
When some people meet, it takes them less than five seconds to know they will be lifelong friends. That was how it was with Shannon, Eva, and Dylan. They happened to sit at the same table for a Congressional Intern orientation meeting and immediately made plans to spend the summer exploring Washington D.C. together.
The three interns hung out every evening, visiting free museums and landmarks. They relished being a small part of such an important place. Shannon was from Kansas and Eva from Indiana. Dylan grew up in Maryland, close to D.C., and was the only one with a car. He promised to drive when they were ready to see places outside of the city, but by the end of a very hot July, none of his imagined visits into Maryland had materialized.
Then late on a Thursday, Dylan excitedly told his friends about a cousin, Quentin, who lived in Annapolis. Quentin was ten years older than Dylan and a successful real estate lawyer. He recently took up sailing and was looking for people to take out on his yacht. Dylan got the news from his mom and thought it sounded like a perfect way to spend a Saturday.
“Have you been on his boat before?” Shannon asked.
“No. Like I said, this is something new for him. And to be honest, the last time I saw Quentin was like two years ago.”
“And he won’t care if you bring friends along?”
“He wants me to bring friends along.”
“Have you ever been on a yacht?” Shannon asked Eva.
“I’m from Indiana. We don’t have a lot of yachts there.”
“Will we actually be in the ocean?” Shannon asked Dylan.
“Well, the Chesapeake Bay. I guess that’s technically the ocean.”
Shannon smiled dreamily. She and Eva imagined what sailing on a yacht would be like. They recalled scenes from movies and TV shows in which glamorous people wore white clothes, sipped wine, and nibbled cheese. They could practically feel the ocean breeze in their hair and taste the salty air. Everyone back home would be jealous after seeing all their sailing selfies.
“Do you think we’ll get a chance to swim? I’ve seen shows where a boat finds a little cove with clear blue water and everyone dives in.”
Dylan shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what Quentin has planned, but we can ask him.”
“I need to buy a new swimsuit,” Shannon said.
“Me too,” Eva added. “I want something good for swimming and laying out on the deck.”
After a frantic 36-hour period of swimsuit shopping and deciding what to wear, Dylan picked up the girls for the 45-minute ride to Annapolis. He followed directions to the Capital Yacht Club and anticipation built as they got closer. Shannon squealed when she saw the first hints of the waterfront and the tall masts of sailboats.
As they pulled into the Yacht Club’s parking lot, Eva said, “Look at this place. I’ll bet these people have a lot of money.”
Quentin was waiting for his cousin. As soon as Dylan’s car was parked, Quentin motioned for everyone to get out. Shannon and Evan emerged wearing swimsuits, loose wraps, flipflops, sunglasses, and broad rimmed hats. They looked like they were headed for lounge chairs at a country-club pool.
The first thing out of Quentin’s mouth was, “What are you wearing?” He was in long pants and a tight-fitting polo shirt.
“We weren’t sure if we’d be getting in the water,” Dylan replied. He was also wearing a swimsuit.
Quentin shook his head in disbelief before saying, “It doesn’t matter. We just need to get going. Follow me. We can do introductions on the boat.”
Quentin walked briskly to the Yacht Club’s floating pier and followed a walkway to where his boat was docked. It was one of the largest in sight, with a tall mast and a narrow, blindingly white hull.
“She’s 40 feet. Built for racing. I’ve only had her a couple of months. She’s pretty much perfect.”
Quentin stepped onto the side of the sailboat and motioned for the others to follow. Dylan awkwardly pulled himself aboard before helping Shannon and Eva. They shuffled toward the stern and anxiously stood in the open space between the giant steering wheel and the ship’s cabin. Quentin handed everyone a life vest. As his three guests struggled with the life vest straps, he kicked on the boat’s motor and backed it away from the dock.
Quentin paid no attention to his passengers while he navigated into open water. Once the yacht was motoring down the Severn River and toward the Chesapeake, he finally acknowledged the three people occupying the two bench seats formed in the boat’s hull.
“So why don’t we go around and introduce ourselves.”
Quentin looked at Shannon and Eva. They both gave their names and where they were from.
“And how much sailing experience do you have?”
“None,” both girls answered.
Quentin gave Dylan an annoyed look. “I thought you said they were into sailing.”
“I meant they were interested in sailing. I didn’t know they were supposed to have experience.”
“But you’ve been sailing before, right?” Quentin asked Dylan.
“No. I’ve been in a motorboat. You know, the one Uncle Jake had.”
Quentin did not hide his disappointment. “I was hoping to practice for a race next week. I’m still getting a feel for the boat. My regular crew were all busy, that’s why I needed you.” He sighed and dropped his head to his chest. “I guess if I teach you some basics, I can practice tacking and it won’t be a total waste of time. You better throw your hats into the cabin or you’ll lose them. I hope you brought sunscreen.”
Dylan, Shannon, and Eva did not dare ask questions as Quentin handed out gloves and lectured about fast sailing being a combination of art, intellect, and athleticism.
“We’ll run two sails. The jib up front and the main behind. As we turn in the wind, we’ll move the sails back and forth to get speed. You two girls will be on the winches for the jib. Dylan, you’ll take the beam for the main.”
Quentin flew through an explanation of how to wrap the jib’s rope lines around a winch and then how to tighten or loosen them. Then he showed Dyland how to move the beam for the mainsail left and right.
“You got it?”
No one replied.
“I’ll put down the sails and then we’ll be under wind power.”
Dylan temporarily held the steering wheel while Quentin hoisted the two sails and positioned them at the correct angle. Then Quentin returned to his command post behind the wheel and yelled for everyone to be ready to turn. “When I shout, ‘Coming about,’ you all shout, ‘Ready!’”
“Coming about!”
Quentin received three apprehensive “Ready’s” and he rotated the boat’s wheel. The jib sail flapped. “You at port, let out the slack! You at starboard, pull it tight!”
Shannon and Eva struggled with the lines as the sail hung at the wrong angle. “I can’t do it,” Eva cried.
“Come on! Crank the winch!” Quentin yelled. “Put some muscle into it!”
Quentin was not happy with the jib sail’s position or where Dylan moved the beam. He decided it was time for another turn. “Coming about!”
Shannon struggled with tightening the line while Quentin yelled for her to do it faster. On the next turn, Evan cried in frustration and whispered, “I hate you!” in Quentin’s direction.
“Don’t cry just because something’s hard or you’re not good at it,” Quentin shouted. “Sailors aren’t born, they’re made.”
The boat zigzagged down the Chesapeake and every so often Quentin pointed out a landmark on shore. His resentful crew did not care. They did not appreciate the wind in their hair. They felt like prisoners on a trip to nowhere and regretted Dylan responding to Quentin’s offer for a weekend excursion.
Quentin continued calling out, “Coming about!” Ever so gradually, the girls got a feel for how the jib lines should move as the boat turned. If they timed their release and pull correctly, the boat and wind did all the work. The line and sail moved to the perfect position without the need to crank on the winch. Dylan grew equally proficient at working the beam and Quentin noticed how in sync his crew worked. He learned Shannon and Eva’s names and shouted a few compliments.
“We’ve been going for three hours. Probably time to turn around,” Quentin announced.
“How about a little break? I’m dying from thirst!” Shannon shouted.
“And I’ve gotta have something to eat!” Dylan added.
Quentin dropped into the ship’s cabin and returned with some warm water bottles and stale granola bars. His crew drank and ate greedily. Eva claimed the last time she felt so tired was running cross-country in high school.
Quentin made regular turns as they sailed back toward the Yacht Club. The scowl he wore at the beginning of the trip was replaced by a smile as he raved about the boat’s speed. “She’s really dialed in now!”
At some point after the turnaround, both Shannon and Eva forgot their visions of a luxury cruise and began to love the feel of the boat. As it leaned in the wind, they naturally leaned in the other direction and watched the water rush past. They grew to appreciate how the four-person crew moved in concert to control the massive sails. Quentin gushed compliments as they pulled into his slip at the Yacht Club.
“I can tell you’re smart by how fast you picked everything up.”
He paid for an early dinner at the Yacht Club’s restaurant. Everyone feasted on crab as Quentin asked about internships and colleges. He told Shannon and Eva about friends he had in Kansas and Indiana.
When the girls finally got back in the car for the trip home, Dylan was apologetic. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea it was going to be like that. I thought we were guests, not a work crew.”
“I guess I didn’t need a new swimsuit,” Shannon said.
“Or the hats,” Eva added.
They took turns imitating Quentin’s voice yelling, “Coming about!”
For the next week, that was their common greeting whenever they saw one another. But with each day that passed, when the girls looked back on their sailing experience, they forgot the awkward learning phase and their exhaustion. What stuck with them was the sensation of speed on open water.
On Friday, Dylan cornered Shannon and Eva and was bursting to share some news. “I got a text from Quentin. I didn’t forward it to you because I wanted to see your reaction in person. He’s racing tomorrow and two of the people who are supposed to help dropped out. He wants us back! Can you believe him? As if we would be his slaves again.”
The girls’ faces did not show the revulsion Dylan expected. In fact, they looked like they were considering it. “It would be a real race?” Shannon asked.
“I guess so.”
“I could maybe see myself doing it.”
“Yeah, me too,” Eva added.
“You’re kidding, right?” Dylan replied in disbelief.
“This time we have more experience,” Shannon said. “We’d know what we’re getting into. But there would have to be some conditions. Like cold drinking water.”
“And better food. And uniforms. He needs to buy us uniforms,” Eva interjected.
“And a share of the prize money if we win any. And you’d have to drive us. You should ask him for gas money. Why don’t you give me Quentin’s number and I’ll tell him everything.”
Dylan was too flustered to argue. He held out his phone showing Quentin’s number. “Remember, there’s no swimming or relaxing. You’ll spend the whole day pulling on ropes.”
Shannon replied with a little shrug. “Maybe some of us are just born to sail.”
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