July 4, 2024 – The 2024 Sailing Trip Begins

This year’s trip was going to be a little different. We typically take two weeks of vacation in July and push our sailboat as far as we can possibly go within that time. We usually start the trip planning by thinking, This year, let’s take it a bit easy and have a more relaxed pace. This never happens. There are usually multiple overnight runs, many 4am starts, and a lot of long, long sailing days, which are usually by motor power as the wind seems to always be either right in our face or nonexistent.

But this year it was different. The initial plan was for my nephew William to join us for a week of the sailing trip and limit the destination to marinas in and around Toronto. He has attended sailing camps during the last couple of summers and has really enjoyed it so when we visited my brother Marty and family in Ottawa for New Year’s, William and I made a blood pact that he would join us this summer. After cutting deeply into our palms with the turkey knife and clasping hands in an iron grip then winding the knuckled, bloody mass with ceremonial nautical manila rope and staring into each other’s eyes, the deal was done and irrevocable.

Once my dad caught wind of our pact he called and asked if he could join us, which of course he was welcome to do, as he suffers from severe FOMO and we do all we can to bring him in on the adventures, especially when we can put him to work on stuff. Now, once my Saskatoon-based nephew Eliot caught wind of the revised plan he floated the idea of joining, which of course he was welcome to do, as he has only the beginnings of a FOMO affliction, but was more interested in hanging out with his crazy cousin and trying out some Lake Ontario pirating.

Now, I had to consider some trip rules. Both the nephews are the same age and undoubtedly in the cruel grips of puberty where their brains aren’t working properly and other weird shit starts to happen. After some deliberation, I decided the boys needed only two rules:

1.    Wear your lifejacket
2.    No whacking off in the boat

I forwarded the rules onto my brothers, who wrestled agreement out of their sons and reported back that the terms had been reluctantly accepted.

Everything was set and we all anxiously awaited the start of the trip. Then the whole damn thing fell apart a week before departure. Why? Well, William has always been a bit of a rascal and this year’s rascalling led to something more serious than usual. Details from my brother were fuzzy, but it seems the Quebec language police raided William's English-only lemonade stand and a massive firefight ensued. Injuries were sustained on both sides and there was not a clear victor, but it did end up with William getting entangled in some lengthy court proceedings and a stint in solitary confinement with Mitsou videos and French soap operas on infinite repeat for a dose of Quebec-style language reprogramming. These punishments were set to last for the foreseeable future.

When Eliot heard the news he was given a choice by his folks: continue with the trip and hang out with grandpa and his aunt and uncle for a week, or stay home. His decision was solidarity with the cousin and he declined the trip to make time for writing letters of support to the young jailbird. As much as we were going to miss the opportunity to spend time with him, it was the right decision, but I do hope William sorts out his legal issues and we get another shot at this trip sometime.

Fortunately, my dad decided to soldier on and join us. And that’s where the trip begins.