A Sailor, Remembered

The day we buried Nick was a windy day.  While we stood in the cemetery, the wind moved in the trees – 14 to 16 knots, with higher gusts.  We sailors noticed that wind – it is in our blood and our bones and our hearts to notice the wind -- and there is always a small tingle of excitement that stirs us when we are outside on a windy day.  We looked at one another, with sad eyes, and smiled. Nick loved days like this.

Nick was a sailor, like us, and like us he loved breeze and water.  On windy days he was most at home in the boat; he could unfold his long body and lean out over the water, feeling the tug of the mainsheet and the tiller in his hands.  He loved the grace of our sailboats, and he worked tirelessly to learn how to go a little bit faster, to maneuver a little bit more smoothly.  He didn’t mind getting wet or cold, getting banged or bruised.  He was patient with equipment breakdowns, with the clumsiness of beginning sailors, and with his own steep learning curve sailing a new kind of boat in a new harbor.  He was always happy on the water – visibly happy. He rocked the boat into the dock on glassy no-wind days, leaning out so far that he dipped his head into the water.  He’d shake his wet hair and say, “Refreshing!”  He was quietly friendly and funny and considerate, and when outdoors, near the water, or even away from the water just talking about sailing, he glowed with the pleasure that we all feel when we’re on or in a boat. 

That easy, visible happiness is a gift.  As we’ve been remembering Nick, that gift keeps coming up.  It’s hard to be sincere and authentic sometimes.  You risk being corny or naive, looking like you care too much. But as we sailors have talked about Nick, I am reminded again and again of how valuable it is.  His teammates smile to remember, and talk about small moments when Nick’s delight was contagious, when his unselfconscious enthusiasm conquered shyness or erased a bad mood.  There is great joy in the daily routine of practice, in working hard to get better at something you love, in sharing efforts with teammates, and Nick shined a light on that.  We will carry Nick’s joy, and Nick’s memory, whenever we go on the water, or whenever we see the wind in the trees. 

Comments

[Litoralis]

:(

[bill]

Beautiful and moving. My condolences to you and your team. Is he in that picture - if so, which one? It would be nice to associate his face with your tribute. May God keep you well.

[Edward]

I am so sorry to hear about this loss. Contrasting this to your earlier post about the sparrow, it sounds like you are coming closer to peace with it now.

[BF]

As always, your words are full of emotion and incredibly poignant. I'm so sorry for your entire team's loss.

[J]

These are the entries I think we all most want to comment on, but end up having the fewest comments because of the difficulty finding the right words.

You and your team are at the forefront of my thoughts and prayers.

[GP]

May his memory be eternal. Moving.

[terrilynn]

I'm sorry for the loss of your friend. This was a beautiful and loving tribute to him.

[Eliboat]

I am very sad to hear about the loss of Nick. Your words about him captured subtle things about him that all who knew him will remember and miss.

[Eliboat]

I am very sad to hear about the loss of Nick. Your words about him captured subtle things about him that all who knew him will remember and miss.

There is something aching in the memoir of a friend. In your new year, I wish everyone who knew Nick peace and everyone who did not the gift of love that the passing of a friend might sometime evoke.

The love and warmth of the seasons,
DLS