Sailing Sick-up

I grew up on the water. My grandmother had a lakehouse before I was a baby (she threw my bottle, aka "ba-ba," to the fishes when she thought I was too old for it) and my parents got one later on. We went through several boats, from pontoons, to speed boats, to mini yachts to house boats to sail boats. And let me tell you, there is nothing like sleeping on a boat. You fall asleep on a gently rocking blanket of waves, the small splashes on the bottom of the boat second only to the soft hum of cicadas in the summer. It makes for the most amazing dreams.

So I've always appreciated boating - I never really had a choice. But I often forget that not everyone feels the same way I do.

A group of us went sailing in the Pacific recently. It was my first time on a boat in the Pacific and I was excited beyond belief. We had wine and cheese, good company, and a captain rivaling Chief Brody in Jaws. We shoved off from the port in Marina del Rey full of the wind in our hair (yes, I can still feel the wind in what little hair I now have left). Immediately, however, we realized we were probably in for more than we bargained for.

It was a rocky start. The boat lurched left, then right, the sails pitching from side to side. You had to duck frequently in order to avoid getting clocked on the head by the. Once out in the ocean, however, it was smooth sailing, as they say. Though the boat leaned practically on its side the whole time, most of us were enjoying the spectacular coastal views and the electric zing of life through our spirits.

It was on the way back from Malibu that the action happened. One of the seat cushions fell overboard and our fearless captain swung the boat around after it. Our motley crew made several attempts at nabbing it, all the time the boat flipping back and forth along the coastline as our captain stood over the edge with his harpoon. And we were almost about to catch that cushion too...when it happened.

A guy I'd just met all of the sudden flung his head overboard and commenced yacking full throttle. As others turned away in disgust, trying their best to pretend they didn't notice him, I stared directly at him. I couldn't help but crack a smile, glad that all those years around boats had made me sea worthy. I turned to another girl to comment, but her face looked green. And I'm not kidding...it was GREEN. She managed to mumble out, "I'm not feeling well" before going below for a bit of reprieve. At this point, I heard a soft chuckle escape from my mouth. Horrified, I forced a serious face to match the concern of the others. And that was when I turned around to see a girl on the other side of the boat, blowing chunks all along the starboard side.

It started as a feather in my gut. A light flutter that bubbled up, gaining strength on its way up my throat. And before I could even think to attempt to shove it back down, it came: great bellows of laughter erupting from my mouth. And there was no stopping it! I knew it would be one of those laughing fits that you are powerless to control. The kind that make others smile for awhile, but eventually become annoyed with you.

I rolled around the boat, my face in my arms. Red-faced, tears streaming, I looked to the others for or at least sympathy, but found none. I was on my own and it wasn't funny. But I just couldn't help it! It seemed like every time I turned around, someone else was puking! Every time I started to settle back down, the image of the back of someone's head would pop into my mind and I was done for again. Oh, the humanity of it all!

The fit finally petered out as the boat motored in to dock. We never did get that damn cushion back...but if you ask me, it's a small price to pay for a good giggle.