I first learned to windsurf at the Berkley Marina and after work in San Francisco I would take a cable car, BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) and a bus to my lessons. You’d think between the skanky water, the commute and the damp wetsuits that I’d have given up, but no, I loved it!
I finally got my own gear and while I was always a tentative sailor, still had fun dodging the metal shite jutting out of the filth at flying tigers. I looked forward to the weekend excursions searching for wind and because I wasn’t that good, was happy even if the air streams were elusive.
Let’s see, tortoise or hare……what can I say I’m the tortoise in most things. So how I got the misconception that moving to Maui would make me a 'windsurfing hare' is beyond me! As a scapegoat for me quitting the sport, my ex-husband came in quite handy. Sure he was unsupportive, critical of my slow progress and uninterested in everything associated with my sailing day, but (truth be told) walking away from the sport had more to do with quitting him than anything else. Not to mention the fact that it was way more difficult to sail on Maui than anywhere else I’d tried and I couldn't fucking jibe, no matter how many lessons I took from John Crews!
So I did the only sane thing anyone would do, I divorced ‘the unhelpful one’ and bought a mountain bike!
Fast forward 10 years and the windsurfing gods sent me another opportunity to play. I started hanging out with good sailors and the desire to hook-in came back. Ego and age were my only obstacles as I was the oldest beginner I knew hanging out with those who had stayed in relationship with the sport for the last 10 years. I keep wondering "if I'd stuck with it surely I could have at least mastered the jibe in that time"? Oh little tortoise, at your speed, not necessarily!
Wotdafuck, on some level it was easy, I just threw myself under the bus for the laugh and went for it (how quickly one forgets the pouty tantrums!). I’m still sailing like a girl, but most importantly I’m now having fun. My good mate Giampaolo did the honor of filming me prior to my going into dry dock for a month. So, this diatribe is my l.o.n.g. introduction to the masterpiece you are about to witness.
So, what difference did 10 years make? Proficiency wise-not much! The tortoise is basically at the same stage she was 10 years ago, but with a new enthusiastic audience and a much better attitude, it’s an entirely different world.