I learned to sail because of the Good Humor Ice Cream truck.

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Not the Snark, but two boats later, my catboat Myra Lee


I know, that's an odd statement, but trust me, it makes perfect sense.


I grew up in a powerboat family. We moved by way of diesel, not wind. But the family budget was limited, as was the depth at the docks, so when not cruising or off fishing we hung out in the mooring field surrounded by sailboats. No generator so no heat, no air conditioning, no TV, just lots and lots of books. In truth it was a wonderful way to spend the summers. I was quite happy passing the hours lounging on the forward deck reading as the boat gently rocked and sailboats glided past. All was good in the world…


Until I'd heard it. That sound. Every child knows that sound, the approach of the Good Humor truck. It's amazing just how well sound carries across the water, and in the right conditions I could hear that cheerful jingle coming down the riverside road for what seemed miles. My brother, being older, had rights to the dinghy and was usually down at the docks with his friends while I sat on the bridge desperately trying to wave him over for a lift to shore. To this day I'm certain he deliberately ignored my frantic signals, leaving me instead to suffer.


The solution to this problem was clear: I needed my own boat. But I'd seen the headaches that came from the miniature outboard on the dinghy; my parents and brother were forever doing battle with it. As I sat on the bridge listening to the sound of orange creamsicles receding into the distance I watched the sailboats gracefully coming and going and suddenly the solution seemed so very obvious. I wanted a sailboat. After all how hard could it really be? No gasoline, no fouled spark-plugs, no sputtering stink, just clean, simple, wind. I grabbed the copy of Chapman Piloting Seamanship & Small Boat Handling from the cabin, reading the 'Seamanship Under Sail' chapter over and over, memorizing every page and illustration. I studied the boats around us, watching them in action as they tacked and maneuvered through the various points of sail. And when my parents finally asked what I wanted for my birthday I announced "a sailboat." I half-expected they'd say 'No' but weeks later that's exactly what I got: my very own Snark. They had found it used and cheap; it was a bit scuffed up and the sail was bright orange, but I was thrilled beyond all reason.


All the theory and studying couldn't replace that first sail, which I insisted I would do solo. I climbed aboard, pulled in the sheet and there was a moment of sheer terror as the boat surged away from the dock, the only sound that of the water rushing around the Styrofoam hull. My brain scrambled to recall all I'd read. Did I turn into the wind, did I lean back, should I pull the tiller towards me or push it away? But within seconds all fear was forgotten as I felt the little boat building speed that seemed so swift and effortless as I skimmed over the waves. This was a thrill unlike anything I could have imagined. I felt the wind across my face and I began to remember all I'd read and the boat responded as I adjusted my heading. In the distance I could hear that ice cream truck jingling its way towards the boatyard. But what began as a means to an end had become the reward in itself. I had found something far greater than all the popsicles in the world – I had freedom, and the last thing I wanted to do was head that little boat back to shore.


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My crew, Moxy and Rex, awaiting shore leave.


I'm asking mystery readers to come together in raising money for a worthwhile cause — to benefit New Jersey's abandoned, abused and neglected animals. The New Jersey Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. (www.njspca.org), a non-profit organization, receives no government aid or tax dollars. It is funded solely by donations, grants, bequests and fines levied. My goal is to raise not only funds, but public awareness for the NJSPCA as they rescue animals from their abusers and make a difference in the lives of so many suffering animals. I've pledged that for every copy of Last Exit In New Jersey sold between 12/1/10 and 01/31/11, $1.00 will be donated to the NJSPCA. For more information go to www.cegrundler.com/works.htm and donations can also be made directly to the NJSPCA through their website: www.njspca.org


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Published on January 26, 2011 05:02
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