Adhering to a fun custom among sailing organizations across the USA, the Yacht Club held its annual "Sock Burning" to celebrate the end of sock-wearing season and beginning of sailing season.
The group assembled, enjoyed the pitch-in snacks and an extended period of trading yarns about the race, the winter, lake chatter, etc. Then we formed a circle and began the ritual by tossing filthy winter socks into the flameless "fire" and took turns reading fun lake related poetry that some had either composed or thought appropriate.
THE POEMS:
The sailors
wondered,
Will the season
ever start?
Ahoy, it’s today!
-L.D. (Haiku)
********************
Sailing on
Grandview:
Carried by the
wind,
Cradled by the
lake,
Is the ultimate
“Happy Place”
-A.T.
********************
But the best
ships are friendships and may they always be!
********************
A Grandview
sailor from our lake
Planned a season
to sail in “no wake”.
Staying out in
front is no easy stunt
But he’ll get the
trophy to take.
-M.R.
********************
“Leisure” by W. H. Davies (1871-1940):
WHAT is this life
if, full of care,
We have no time
to stand and stare?—
No time to stand
beneath the boughs,
And stare as long
as sheep and cows:
No time to see,
when woods we pass,
Where squirrels
hide their nuts in grass:
No time to see,
in broad daylight,
Streams full of
stars, like skies at night:
No time to turn
at Beauty's glance,
And watch her
feet, how they can dance:
No time to wait
till her mouth can
Enrich that smile
her eyes began?
A poor life this
if, full of care,
We have no time
to stand and stare.
-As read by LG
********************
Another year
sailing at GYC
And as a hobby
it’s not free!
Although delayed,
we started.
The racing was
good hearted!
And as usual, we
followed Jim V!
-M.B.
********************
Sailing is a
fickle sport
As you can
plainly see.
There’s too much
wind, or not enough,
A chance of rain,
oh GEE!
There’s all the
special words to learn,
Bow, stern and
port.
It’s easy for a
newbee to stumble
And fall short.
But when your
sails are tight and full
And you’re flying
toward the dam
The water’s
sparkling, you’re in the lead,
You’ve won a
grand slam!
-J.H.
********************
Race Day at Grandview:
Sensation of
speed greatly multiplied.
First to finish
is our hard fought mission,
So we trim the
sails to the perfect position.
The heart beats
fast, the mind stays busy,
Sailors caught up
in a competitive tizzy.
Each gust a joy
unless we capsize.
We hope to win
that elusive prize.
To those who
finish with a winning outcome:
Beware of succumbing to high five syndrome!
When the race is
over our sails we stow.
With snacks and
drinks to Arlene’s patio we go.
Exhausted and
spent, sailors sink into a chair.
Then race yarns
and alleged infractions we share.
-T.S.
********************************
Also, for those interested in the origins of this quirky tradition, Arlene found the most likely source:
Started in 1977 after a bad winter in Maryland. It was March 21st, the traditional
start of the sailing season in that area.
Weather was not good for sailing, so sailors were gathered on the beach
with a fire in the fire pit. One
disgruntled disappointed sailor threw his winter socks into the fire.
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