My husband and I had always planned to retire on Martha’s Vineyard. It was a dream we shared – along with the dream to have a little day-sailer in Edgartown harbor, two million in the bank, and our daughter graduating from college in only four years . . . you get my drift. Dreams sometimes stay just that – dreams.
    
We retired on Friday, February 13, 1998. February 14 we went to a boat show at the Javits Center in New York City. By the end of the day we were proud owners of a twenty-nine-and-a-half-foot Hunter sloop that sleeps six. They really shouldn’t be allowed to sell beer at boat shows.
    
We took lessons from Captain Steve. We learned how to raise the sail, how 
to tie up and cast off – completely 
different than knitting – and we were 
in business.
    
We used to fly small Cessna airplanes. (He flew, I just went along for the ride.) If your hobby is flying then you find places to fly to. The best way to do this – if you only have one day to get there and back – is to use a map and a compass, one of those little tin things you stick a pencil in, and trace a circle around where you keep your plane. Then you look at the map to find interesting destinations. That’s how we found Martha’s Vineyard. We figured boating would be equally exciting.
    
It’s not. Not if you are true fair-weather sailors like us. First of all our top speed is five knots, which will get you to Nantucket or Cape Cod in about five hours if the wind is just right. This rules out going for lunch. Second, the wind is very rarely just right, which means a lot of tacking and jibing, which is a lot of work but not very exciting (unless you’re like my friend Tom who was taught to never, never jibe. In that case you spend the whole day coming about in little circles, also not very exciting). So we have settled into a routine of sailing to nowhere for a couple of hours and having cocktails at the mooring for a 
couple of hours. Not exciting, but it suits us just fine.
    
Frequently the most challenging part of the trip is navigating the harbor. We never do this under sail and have only the highest regard for the captains who do. Unfortunately the captains who do – who skipper everything from twelve-foot catboats to fifty-foot charter sailboats – turn the harbor into an obstacle course. The rule of the sea is that boats under power give way to boats under sail. Throw the yacht club classes that scoot around like water bugs into the mix and it can be downright daunting.
    
Our first summer in Edgartown harbor my husband chose the job of casting off the mooring and letting me skipper the boat to the outer harbor where we could safely raise the sails. 
I became quite good at it, if I do say so myself. Our second season, when he suggested that we alternate jobs so we both learned to do everything, I was a little nervous. I’ve always been a terrible back-seat driver and once drove all the way to Florida so I wouldn’t have to share the driving with my mother, who was known as Leadfoot Lee in her day.
    
Our first few trips in and out went off without a hitch. We must have 
always timed our trips just right 
because the Chappy ferry On Time had never even entered our thoughts.
    
One Saturday we had some guests from the mainland who were looking forward to a sail. Our experience getting people to go sailing with us had always been bad. I guess we just didn’t look like able-bodied seamen. So we were delighted to have company. The sail went smoothly, even though Saturday in Edgartown harbor is like Five Corners when the Islander unloads. On the way in, with hubby proudly at the wheel and sailboats passing through the ferry lane with impunity, he suddenly realized that the On Time II and On Time III had started to cross and were too close for comfort. We were not the only ones motoring through. Two large sailboats and a cabin cruiser were about to become headlines in the Island newspapers. To add insult to injury the ferry captain blew his whistle at us! My husband panicked – not that I wouldn’t have done the same – and turned sharply to starboard, where he almost crashed into another vessel. Fortunately the other boat also turned sharply to starboard and gave us room to come around.
    
Our friends dashed for dry land  when we finally made it back. Next time we want to show off what we can do on the water, we’ll stick to cocktails at the mooring.