Sailing

I think it's even a goal in the back of my journal. I'm not positive, though.

I've wanted to learn how to sail for a long time. At least since last fall, when I missed my opportunity to learn because of a sailing-prohibitory condition they call "Frozen Charles River" which is a side-effect of the happiness-prohibitory time of the year known as "Boston Winter".



MIT has this great sailing pavilion that is open to students and affiliated members. I've heard they built the sailing program in 1967 under the direction of MIT President Julius Stratton who was convinced that the academic rigor of the Institution could be increased by the addition of the boat dock on the Charles River and several small dinghies. Legend has it that Stratton predicted that the tightened budget due to the boat dock construction would result in denying allocation of repair funds for the boats the following year. This denial of funds would produce holey dinghies, which, when used by students who were unwilling to hit the books 24/7, would lead to a gradual increase in the intellectual standard over time. According to Stratton, the introductory required math course 18.001 (which, like all MIT courses is known only by a number, concealing the real class content from all but the most creative of cryptographers) and the holey dinghies should weed out most of the less-intelligent and less-motivated students by the sophomore year. The motivation behind Stratton's quest for scholastic excellence may have stemmed from his growing impatience at the inability of inventors to create that put-your-pants-on-for-you-in-the-morning-when-you-get-out-of-bed apparatus he had been dreaming of ever since he was a child.

Unfortunately, Stratton passed away three months after completion of the boat dock, and funds for repairing the dinghies the next year were inadvertently allocated by the university treasurer who felt justified in budget increases to any category with "dinghy" in the name.

18.001 still continues to be a life-threatening challenge.

At least I think the above is correct.

At any rate, the boat dock is still alive and well.

And offering sailing lessons to students.

I called up a friend last Wednesday, and we met for the sailing class. It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining. A breeze was blowing, which is why they decided to let us take the boats out on our first day. When only a breeze is blowing, it's hard to do bad things in a sailboat... it's like letting someone learn to drive on your riding lawnmower. (Before you think that's a bad analogy, you should ask the sailing staff about what happens if you leave your centerboard and you run over a cat or a small child...)

So today, my friend texted me, asking whether I was planning on going sailing. It was raining at the time, but I replied that I would definitely be there, hoping that the rain would stop in the next 5 hours.

When the class time rolled around, it was still pouring. I headed down to the boat dock, intending only to pick up my sailing card. I was surprised to see that the dock was well-staffed, and the lady at the front desk asked if I was here for classes. I told her that I was, but that I assumed they were cancelled.

"They're never cancelled."

I probably should have gone home.

I had luckily brought my gym bag, so I put on some shorts and a stinky tshirt, and went out to practice tacking. After every few tacks, we had to pause and bail out the boat. Except that it's hard to pause in a sailboat...

Needless to say, I was drenched by the end of the lesson. Not just a little.

But I guess there are worse things than being completely soaked to the bone. Like not having one of those put-your-pants-on-for-you-in-the-morning-when-you-get-out-of-bed apparatus..