Dana and I have packed up our lives after living in the desert southwest for the past 25 years. I can't state enough how much thought and planning went into this move, as it was nearly 10 years from when the first thought popped into our heads of moving to New Zealand, quickly to be brought smack back into the reality that we needed to stay put, if for no other reason-- to get our careers going. I had just accepted a position as a clinical pharmacist working in an endocrine (but also primary care) clinic at the VA hospital in Tucson, while Dana had just finished nursing school at the University of Arizona and started work as a clinical educator for peri-operative services at Northwest Medical Center. My bike racing had taken a back seat to the incredible world of triathlon as I'd just qualified for my first Ironman World Championship at Ironman Florida with a 3rd spot in my age group- a personal milestone that had haunted me since entering pharmacy school in 1989, and after reading a book by Mike Plant, Iron Will. I was hooked. There was just no way on this earth that I was going to accept defeat getting to do that race at least ONCE, and as most of those athletes will affirm, the primary goal was to finish (among all the sub-goals: finish before the sun goes down, finish under 10 hrs, etc...). My wife had the unenviable job of placing IV catheters in some very fast racers who'd pushed the limits just a bit too far, by not taking certain key precautions (ie. water/nutrition) and ended up abandoning the race for a berth in the medical tent. I crossed the finish line of my last ironman race in 2002 in Kona and closed that chapter in my life for good-- then went off in search of some water, pizza, cookies... My loving wife waiting patiently the entire time, found me and after the trip back home, rehabbing me back into some sense of normalcy (post-event depression can be fairly traumatic) a number of years (and several repetitive-motion injuries that put somewhat of an end to my triathloning for a while) later, I picked up a book about sailing. I was just cruising around the local Barnes & Noble store when a book by Tania Aebi, Maiden Voyage caught my eye, so I picked it up, read it over a week or so, and felt encouraged to sign up for some sailing lessons at the Arizona Yacht Club (I know- Arizona has a YACHT CLUB?!? It's one of the oldest in the country, and just celebrated their 50th birthday!). We almost haven't looked back since. In fact, the experience was sufficient to convince us that sailing is something we maybe might like to do for the rest of our lives... gotta always leave some way to bail out if it doesn't work out.
Sailing is one of those activities that is arguably, one of the safest sports out there, if you believe in statistics. I can tell you that it can also be one of the bloodiest. My first introduction to Dorado (new to me, but used 1980 Chrysler Buccaneer 18 sailboat) produced a gash in my knee cap from walking around the trailer and whacking into the turn signal lamp, and they don't call the spar that attaches along the foot of the mainsail a "boom" for nothing... I guess it's safer than bike racing (especially if you train in the Charleston area), and they still call it a sport. If you are into "dinghy sailing", I think that is an accurate assessment, as these boats typically ride up on a plane in relatively light wind (10 mph or more) and require some skill in moving about the boat quickly (careful to duck the boom) to counteract the wind on the sails so you can keep it in it's most efficient position on the water-- the flatter, the better for most hull shapes. Almost right after the lessons, we bought the boat from one of the local sailors, and began sailing on the small lakes around the Phoenix area (Tempe Town Lake, almost more of a reflection pond, and Lake Pleasant, a big, deep canyon turned into a lake by placing a dam at one end) then there was the occasional forray out to San Diego Bay and Mission Bay- awesome places to sail, but a 6 hour drive. The Buccaneer 18 has three sails, main, jib and spinnaker, and all the control lines found on bigger keelboats like we're hoping to buy one day.
The decision to move to Charleston was a tough one. Imagine living in one place for 25 years of your life (almost half of my life, but 2/3 of Dana's), then just deciding one day to go ahead and do it. Sell the house, pack everything (it's amazing what you can accumulate in that much time), pack up the dogs and drive across almost the entire country to the east coast- remember, if you live in Tucson, AZ, you might as well live in San Diego, CA as far as these locals are concerned- One local bike racer reminded me of that fact when the group I was riding with after I had flatted, stopped and said "I wonder how fast this west-coast boy can change a tube?" I'm thinking, "west coast?" I think that flat change took something like 15 minutes as everything around here takes longer. Not wanting to break with local tradition I "jes' took mah time", and that's a great summation of how things happen around here. Charleston, is all we've expected it to be, and maybe even a bit more to that extreme. We're definitely going through a bit of culture shock, but we're adapting, however slowly. One of the sailing instructors back in Arizona (who had actually been to Charleston several times in recent years) warned me that I am going to have to slow down-- I'm just way to high-strung to survive out here... He was right, but I'm giving myself time to adapt. One thing is for certain- we bought an expensive house, and we really need to stay to avoid making a financially silly decision and take a loss just to sell it. No biggee- who's in a hurry??
We just took a trip up to Washington, NC (no, not Washington, DC!) to tour a sailboat factory www.pacificseacraft.com/. I haven't driven through that much snow, sleet, slush and rain since leaving Colorado Springs to move to Tucson back in 1985-- we survived the trip, but according to new reports, 800 other cars across the state didn't fare so well. Cool factory, and the owner is a marine archaeologist-turned-boat factory owner, and perhaps one of the nicest people I've ever met. Of course, he is trying to sell me a boat!
Ray
