Chapter 49

Driving back to the island to go sailing, I really could feel a change, a cloud lifting from my spirit. Up to now, I had very good personal reasons to consider a future in Colorado including my friendship with Marcus and Martha, and my hopes for a future with Roger. But when I was honest with myself, I knew this wasn’t enough. I also was looking for a place where I could grow professionally and innovate to break new ground educationally. Tiny isolated Otis Combined didn’t seem to offer very fertile ground for me or my ideas to flourish; until now.

Now I could also envision a future with almost unlimited opportunity for participation in every sort of scientific or creative activity imaginable. I had known and worked with enough scientists to know that they were not only willing to share their work with students; most of them loved the chance to show their passion. This technology would give them the opportunity to share with a million children at one time. Who would turn down such an opportunity?

Government agencies like NASA are dependent for their very existence on a fickle Congress, which is greatly affected by public opinion. I very much suspected that all future planetary probes would include cameras and other devices, to make it possible for students to experience the greatest adventures in real time.

There remained the question of whether to tell Marcus what I had learned, but I thought better of it. Marcus was not fond of technology, and I would need to approach him carefully and over a period of time, if I was to gain his very valuable support to get the community behind this. Right now, I would keep it to myself.

Speaking of “eager children,” I was confronted on my arrival by a rested and very eager Martha. It was all I could do to get a quick sandwich before heading out. I had left the Hobe beached and ready to go. Getting volunteers to help you slide it into the water was never a problem on a place like Sullivan’s Island, so in a matter of minutes, we were on our way. Conditions couldn’t have been better, the weather warm but not oven-hot; clear skies and a perfect breeze. The wind was enough to move us along at a respectable clip but without the gusts which could capsize us in a moment. Not that capsizing is a major disaster with a Hobe Cat; it happens all the time. But righting one was a job for an experienced crew, not a beginner like Martha.

Martha didn’t stay a beginner long; I can’t recall anyone taking to sailing the way she did. Hobies, in all but the lightest of breezes, tend to be wet, and that was fine by her; the wetter the better.

Not content to be a passenger or even the crew, Martha quickly aspired to be skipper. I had not planned on actually teaching her to sail, but she was so eager and seemed to have a knack.

“OK, Martha, sit here with the wind at your back, just in front of the tiller, and face the sail. Always remember not to get so absorbed in sailing your own boat that you don’t watch out for other boats.”

“How’s this?” she asked proudly, as she kept a good straight course.

“Very good. Now keeping one hand on the line to the main sheet, you use the other hand on the tiller. Push the tiller away to turn into the wind and back to steer away.”

As she turned, the catamaran started to heel up with one hull lifting.

“Now, Martha,” I cried. “Hike out to keep the boat from going over. Put your foot under the hiking strap for balance, and don’t loose your hold on the mainsheet or the tiller”

“Oh, my God!” she cried. “This is so great. It makes me feel free as a bird.”

I could see in her excitement, she was weaving a course like a drunken sailor. I let her have her fun for a bit, before I returned to teacher mode.

“OK, Captain Courageous, let’s get this boat under control, before the Coast Guard comes out to see if we’re stoned. Avoid over-steering by moving the tiller the least bit necessary.”

Her response was to petulantly stick her tongue out, but she immediately returned to a straight course.

“You always face the sail, so that you see the trim. When the sail luffs or flutters, pull in just enough to stop the luffing, no more, and you’ll be going the fastest.”

“But the wind keeps changing,” Martha responded. “How can I tell when and how much to adjust?”

“Just ease it out until it just starts to luff, and then pull in enough to fill the sail again.”

I watched as she handled the cat with surprising skill. Few boats are as much fun as a Hobie in a nice breeze, and conditions were just about perfect. We skimmed right past the USS Yorktown and under the Cooper River bridges.