Since parting with Carlotta, sailing and boats have been almost non-existent for Barb and I. I just couldn’t look at a boat anymore. The energy wasn’t there for me. My mind would race with anxious thoughts whenever I pondered getting involved with a boat again – whether it be wooden or not! I couldn’t even bring myself to walk the docks of a marina. A passion that had previously brought me such pleasure now made me bitter and sullen.
Jasper pulling the sixern Quinque ashore at Jimmy Chicken Island in Oak Bay.
Then last fall I was invited by a friend to go sailing on a Lightning class sailboat. An afternoon was spent tootling around Maple Bay. The owner asked if I’d like a trick at the helm. I took my place at the tiller and immediately felt a familiarity. Something magical sparked and ignited in me. “Oh yeah… I forgot about this… I liked doing this at one time… I love this.”
So we have acquired a boat once again. A lovely, little, elegant and simple wooden boat named ‘Quinque’. It is a boat that we’ve sailed several times in the past, borrowing her on occasion from kind and generous friends; we have a photo of Barb fully pregnant at the helm, and we have a photo of Jasper as a toddler playing with his toy car in the bow. Such good memories. And now I find myself looking forward to creating more of them. I ‘googled’ Quinque last night and found an account written by Martyn Clark for the church bulletin ‘St.Stephen’s Outreach’. It brought me to tears reading of the rebirth of the grieving ‘old man’ brought back to life again – so fitting of my own predicament these past few years of my personal struggle. Adding to that analogy, I include here a photo of Jasper pulling Quinque up the beach of Jimmy Chicken in Oak Bay. Love is come again.