Sidelines
JUST as anyone else who has ever seen the film classic One Crazy Summer -- featuring the all-star ensemble of Demi Moore, John Cusack, Bill Murray's younger brother and "Booger" -- I have fallen in love with the magic of yacht racing. The sight of Pegasus
cures sea sicknessNevermind that I have never been on a yacht. Nevermind that I don't know how to spell "yacht." (Doesn't it have a "g" somewhere?)
But I proved my love by the way I handled the following question: Would you like to go out on a boat in the middle of the ocean off Diamond Head and watch the finish line of the 41st Transpacific Yacht Race?
Answer: Yes.
You see. Yachting is my life.
And this is how we found ourselves in the "media boat." This is where a bunch of people who had no idea what they had gotten themselves into go. But we are going to watch the finish!
It is a beautiful day to go to sea. The wind in your face. The splash and the spray. High adventure, indeed!
Soon we're out where the water is a deeper shade of blue. The swells rise and fall and your body becomes fluid to keep your feet under you. Pull your cap down low, taste the salt on your lips and smile. And then:
"There it is!"
The Pegasus. Eight days after leaving Point Fermin, near Long Beach, Calif., this 74-foot Waikiki Yacht Club vessel will win the race. But now there are two races.
"We're not going to make it."
We're going to miss it. The shot. The race. The finish. After coming all the way out here, we'll be too late to capture the big moment. The captain guns it, and we speed toward destiny, our hearts in our throats and our mini-cams at the ready.
"At 30 knots they'll be on top of us in a heartbeat."
But they aren't. And we make it. In plenty of time, in fact, early enough to circle around a few times, like a plane waiting to land. Enough circles to make both arms go numb. And after I had been so seaworthy all this time. Steady. Steady.
But then there she is, speeding toward home. Is there anything more beautiful than a sail in full bloom? For a few glorious seconds, we sail alongside, filming and clicking and gasping. And then they're gone.
We can't keep up. We can't do 30 knots.
IN PORT, it's amazing that after eight days at sea, the men hang back on the boat. I would have been charging for land. But the crew is comfortable. They are brought leis and beer and bottle openers. They hug and smile and spray champagne. But they're not leaving. Even after eight days, they are happy on the deck of the Pegasus. The party on land will have to wait.
Crew member Adam Beashel, an Aussie and third generation sailor, puts it this way: "Where we were, it's the best place you could ever want to be. There are blue skies, clear water, beautiful sunsets.
"Last night was a fantastic moon."
There is wonder in his voice and light in his eyes and sailing in his blood.
Beashel leans back and cradles his bottle of beer. He is a sailor. He is already home.
Kalani Simpson's column runs Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays.
He can be reached at ksimpson@starbulletin.com