SAIL - - Feedback - Want to share some­thing with other read­ers? Write to us at sail­mail@sail­magazine.com. Let­ters may be edited for brevity.

You present sail­ing as glam­orous high-roller ad­ven­ture on open seas. But what about old duf­fers like me, who just glide serenely on small lakes, en­joy­ing the won­drous free­dom of na­ture?

When my wife and I were in our 70s, we took my beloved old 19ft Fly­ing Scot to big­ger lakes, but we grew too in­firm to launch and rig it. So, I do­nated the Scot to the Sewell Moun­tain Sail­ing As­so­ci­a­tion at Sum­mersville Lake, West Vir­ginia. Now in my 80s, I sail alone in my 14ft Force 5 on a small lake near Charleston WV.

Com­pared to the world-class sail­ing in your mag­a­zine, I’m rather pa­thetic—but there’s deep joy in sim­ply skim­ming along on the free power of the wind, amid geese, cranes and muskrats. To me, sail­ing is a kind of po­etry. As King Solomon wrote in Proverbs: “There be three things which are too won­der­ful for me, yea, four which I know not; The way of an ea­gle in the air; the way of a ser­pent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man with a maid.” — James A. Haught, Charleston, WV

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