17 June 11:43

Two days in a row of sailing and I'm already starting to feel like I could eventually know what I'm doing. Yesterday I actually went out for almost six hours—from the slip down to Coney Island with Denis in his minimalist little Ericsson sailboat—and upon arriving, almost immediately left again with V. and D. for a three-hour tour of the darkening harbor. The first trip was almost not fun; at the beginning I was concerned about my mood, and a little bit chilled from the hours on the water. I did, of course, jump in, just off of the furthest end of Coney, which was followed by a mildly stressful situation owing to Denis' lack of swim-ladder as much as my limited upper-body strength. I must start weightlifting more seriously. And besides, the boat was steep and slippery. But in the strong winds heading down the upper bay to the Narrows, I sat on the bow, to my great delight, and for the first time felt the power of a large boat moving purely by wind power. The science of sailing, as simple as it is, puts the natural knowledge of ordinary people to shame. The set of skills needed to remain aware enough to pilot are within my reach, and even within my senses, but still elusive. I gather I may think of this year as the time when I transitioned from being self-mobilized to acquiring and understanding vehicles: van, bicycle, boat.

After a few tacks across the harbor on the second trip, I started to feel better. A rum cocktail greatly improved my mood, and within an hour I was feeling less sullen and starting to understand the sailing process.

I suppose immersion is how I learn. I function at a high level when I am fully up to my neck in something, however unpleasant. I prefer to be surrounded by the madly passionate, in all their various forms. And when I see them doing what they do, I learn quickly, often taking on their enthusiasm myself. I guess the problem with this is the sort of entanglement where I am so deeply involved with the players and characters in the stories I act out that I can't have casual relationships with anyone. On the other hand, I remained an outsider because my passion is ephemeral; a passion for passion. Or maybe it is just that I am only able to form strong, intense bonds, ionic bonds, unstable bonds.

There have been so many surprises here: firsts, like the first hard, driving rainstorm that woke me at night; my first sail in strong gusting wind, my first moment of understanding what the wind was doing; last night, the first thunder to wake me from a deep sleep, coming not from the sky, but from the water, and reverberating throughout the bottom of the boat, like being startled in the ocean by thunder while swimming, only in an echo chamber.