Summer by the sea

Written by Gus Ruchman
Wednesday, 12 August 2009 23:00

I was not out of breath, but my whole body was tired when I paused to look up. The sail was enormous and certainly the largest by far that I had ever helped to raise. Gently filling with breeze, it curved perfectly in the air as if it were the wing of a giant gull or the back fin of some legendary sea monster returned to Long Island Sound after a long journey.

By a stroke of luck, I was aboard Rambler — a streamlined racing yacht that was moored for a few days just outside Indian Harbor — having been invited aboard with several members of the Brunswick School sailing team, including our coach, as well as some other boating enthusiasts. After motoring to the Sound and becoming acquainted with a few of the vessel’s powerful and high-tech systems, the present crew directed us in hoisting the mainsail and then in navigating the boat on a short cruise around the waters of Greenwich.

Despite an unfavorable weather forecast, the day appeared promising. As the launch boat approached Rambler, I was immediately thrown by the height of her towering mast. I slowly craned my neck, expecting to gaze upon the top, but not until I peered skyward could I see the very pinnacle. At one point, my teammates and I tried to guess how many of the sails of our standard high school racing boats would fit into Rambler’s mainsail. The deck was dominated by four large winches, each to be manned by two crew members who would work as an ensemble to raise, lower, adjust and trim the vast sails with swiftness, precision and perfection. Digital dials and meters presented any and all relevant data, including wind speed, boat speed and numerous other functions that remained unintelligible to me. The sleek white deck seemed to be a magical platform gliding along the sea. In short, this boat was powerful, overwhelming and electrifying.

“Come on, don’t give up now!” shouted one of the young deckhands in a thick New Zealand accent. We had seen an unearthly bolt of lightning strike some not-so-distant waters and were considering turning around. I looked one of my friends in the eye, and he gritted his teeth back at me. Nothing was on the line except our pride, but in the presence of such formidable role models we were determined not to appear weak. After a final push — hands and arms aching, but showing broad smiles — we heard, “Hold!”

Hanging our legs over the side of the craft, we breathed in the salty air, dazzled by the ocean spray and blue swells beneath our feet. We watched the vast army of smaller boats that were competing in the junior national championship taking place in the harbor; they swept across the Sound like a flock of birds uncaged. As Rambler cast her own shadow over the fleet, a quiet perfection of a moment settled onto the deck.

An unspoken thought leapt into the minds of everyone on board. There exists no finer place to be on a summer’s afternoon than out at sea. The auspicious setting of such an awe-inspiring vessel was simply an opportunity to enjoy Long Island Sound, a body of water that is so often taken for granted. I love the shore and always have since the days when I explored the tide pools of Tod’s Point as a young child, reading The Seaside Naturalist and dreaming of sailing out on the open ocean. Now I find that the sea is not only defined by beaches and kites and Frisbees, but that it is also a place of serenity and revitalization. During the summer in Greenwich, there may be no greater gift than a day spent on Long Island Sound.

Gus Ruchman of Cos Cob is a rising senior at Brunswick School.