Fair Winds for Big Dreams

Fair Winds (and zero skills)

By the ADHD Accountant - Krid

There is a place on the prairies that is the highest altitude between the Rocky Mountains and Labrador, with a lake that the Blackfoot call Ponokiokwe. Elkwater is located on the Cypress Hills just South-East of Medicine Hat. Much like Banff it has golf, hiking, camping, skiing, and assorted RV & camping resort amenities. The community isn’t very large; there aren’t many houses and practically no on lives there year round.

My uncle has a home there, one of the few. My Uncle and Aunt sacrificed a lot to have that and I enjoyed all the activities we got up to there. I have some very fond memories of Christmas’ spent around the fire; one time I lit my snow pants on fire trying to warm up quickly, another time that we found a toboggan hill and Uncles little old blue Ford struggled to haul us kids up the slope with our sleds, and all the times we took the T-bar up and made pie on the way down (skiing).

During the summer it was all about the lake, and the beach. Mountain lakes can be brisk year round but as a child I was a bit of a fish. There is something about being in the water that combined elements of freedom and imagination that I loved – holding my breath as long as I could and exploring the bottom of this strange and alien world. Perhaps I could even find pirate gold! The imagination of a child is an amazing gift no matter how much suffering it causes our mothers.

My Uncle had a little sailboat, which is perfect for a little lake. And much cheaper, though nowhere near as amazing as a Seadoo (the Skidoo of the ocean). Have you ever read about pirates, or perhaps Hornblower stories? Fodder for a little bookworm, I had devoured that and Treasure Island and more and was ready to bravely face sea and storm… after a quick lesson on how to actually do the sailing part. Seemed pretty simple - I barely had to pay attention!

If any of you have had brothers I think you can imagine how this is going to go. Don’t worry, we’ll get there soon enough.

Now it should be noted that it can get over 30 degrees Celsius (90 degrees Fahrenheit) easily at the beach, and that warm mountain lakes are by no means actually warm. This will be more relevant later. Armed with a life jacket and educated very recently I set about to become master and commander of all I could survey. My next grand adventure! Now, any real sailor amongst my readers (or anyone with a lick of common sense) knows that you need wind to fill your sails. Not little gusts of gently breeze, which are perfect for playing on the beach, and less perfect for filling the tops’l let alone the mains! Or, you know, my little sail on my little dinghy. Can you guess the weather that day? She weren’t no nor’easter, that’s for sure! That is how I found myself paddling out to the middle of the lake in search of wind. And adventure. And treasure. And to get away from the eyes of each and every person on the beach who I was convinced were amused by my antics.

Yes, I was a shy introvert. Was? Mostly still am, to be fair. With ADHD. Back to the tall tale; I fought that fish for hours!

Oops…

Speaking of oops you should know that the bottom of a sail is affixed to something called a boom. Basically a pivoting pole that weighs the sail down and controls it to affect how you cut the wind and determine your reach (how the sail is oriented to the boat and the boat to the wind – maybe… ish… I’m not a good sailor). The boom should have a line affixed to it that you can tension to affect changes and provide resistance as needed. While you almost never lock the boom down unless under a good wind a good sailor (I’m assuming since I am not a good sailor and did NOT do this) will have an almost instinctual understanding of the wind and how it will affect the mains’l. They will know how to position themselves and when they need to duck.

Quack! Quack, quack, quack, quack is the sound a happy little duck would make in the clear, cold water of Ponokiokwe. They are NOT the sounds that I as a child made. For someone who would happily spend hours in the water, at many varied temperatures including the ones in that very lake, I was not pleased at all to be in it. Hours later and back on shore, with the help of my Uncle, and in a better mood, I remember thinking with childish determinism that one day I would sail over the horizon, far from land and the eyes of others and discover all those things that hero’s did, and more.

Years later my parents owned a motor yacht. Just a little 32’ one. But it was enough to get around the Strait of Georgia and leave land far behind. Several times I saw them off. And, once or twice they saw me off. And there is nothing like a little boat on a big ocean – even if it is just a little part of it! Have you ever wanted to sail off...

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