Sailing Close to the Wind

When I lived in Annapolis in the 80’s, my husband taught at the U.S. Naval Academy. I was lucky enough to be allowed to sail in their fantastic sailing program. This is where the plebes get their feel for water – its power as well as its splendor. There are valuable lessons to be learned on sailing vessels. One afternoon I watched several plebes sail an 18 ft. boat hard into the slip with the mainsail still flying.  They had ignored our cries to drop the mainsail and they tried to stop the boat with their legs. This proved a painful lesson for them.  Many afternoons I would climb on board one of the 54 ft. swans and out we would sail into the Chesapeake Bay. I learned a lot about sailing while the midshipman did the hard work and the trimming of the sheets.

The art of sailing provides some of my favorite metaphors for writing and living.  First of all when you unable to move in a  sailing boat it is called “being in irons.” The parallel with writing is “writer’s block.” I have learned not to  be disheartened by  being immobile. Inner movement may be happening. It is said that the sailors aboard the  great sailing ships off Nantucket would carve scrimshaw when the boats could not move. Tiny masterful creations can come out of “being in irons.”

When wind catches the sails it will move the ship. In calmer air there are other ways  to back-wind the sail to make it generate some movement.  In writing terms that might be the equivalent of giving the story a rest. I like to think back-winding the sail is about giving up a little  control over the story and letting it find its own path. Sailing close to the wind is to sail as directly into the wind as possible. It is the fastest way to travel. There is a temptation to cut into the wind too hard and then the boat “falls off” a bit and loses its speed. Less experienced people in sailing tend to “fall off” and have to correct the direction of the sail boat. They zigzag and lose momentum.

Recently I read a blog by Elissa Altman and in which she asked this question: “Do I have permission to succeed at this? Who am I to tell my stories?”  A writer friend replied to her, “Who are you not to tell them?” She went on to explain that the most challenging part of what we do as writers is to own and  accept the fact that it is our stories that make us who we are. “Sailing close to the wind” is the dangerous part of taking ownership of the boat. I know my “writing” zig zags between courage and fear, but at least I’m at the helm and I will try to keep her steady through the choppy waters.