Our Common Ground
Iswore I wouldn’t write about politics this year, but I just can’t resist at least giving it a nod. We’re in the heat of what you could argue is the strangest, most contentious presidential election in our lifetimes. At this writing, about a dozen candidates are still in the race, among them a reality TV star and a socialist. Never before have Americans been so polarized or faced such a range of choices on both sides of the fence. In many ways, I’d love to just get it over with and focus on something else like college basketball, horses or motor racing, where we can cheer for our teams without hating the competition when the event is over. Better still, I’d be game for the ice to melt so I could kick off my boots and dig into another boating season.
Despite some common perceptions, yachting is a very diverse sport. While I imagine Republicans likely outnumber Democrats and the affluent surely outnumber the not so, our shared passion for the lifestyle afloat transcends all divides. To be sure, there is baked-in friction between the power and sail camps, and we all want to beat the competition to the finish line—or to the yacht club bar—but at the end of the day, we respect one another’s love for the sea, and we celebrate the great adventures and memorable moments that come with it. We don’t ask whom a guy voted for before we toss him a line or offer him a beer.
Speaking of the yacht club bar: What do you talk about after a day on the water? Politics could be on the menu—for sure this year—but in all likelihood, you’re telling tales of your cruise or discussing the relative merits of your boat. If you’re a racer, you may debate tactics that worked or didn’t. If you own a powerboat, you may talk engines or electronics. Boats and boating offer respite from the muddier business of life and work. Politics be damned.
Case in point: Fourteen years ago, I had the singular pleasure of having a working lunch with conservative firebrand William F. Buckley, Jr. Depending on your political orientation, he was the kind of guy you either loved or loathed. In my case, with politics strongly informed by the ’ 60s, I admit I wasn’t a fan. Then I spent four hours with the guy at his home in Connecticut. Politics never came up. I was there to work on a story he’d written about a sailing trip he’d done. Our conversation—which I do my best to recount in this issue despite some slightly overboard cocktailing—centered on boats and sailing. Not that I really expected it to go otherwise, but his passion for the sport trumped (sorry) any discussion of his worldview.
I have a favorite photo of myself lounging in an inflatable trailing behind a sailboat, reading a newspaper about the 1980 Democratic National Convention. What was I thinking? I don’t know about you, but I’m planning to be on the water during the nominating conventions this summer. If I see you out there, I promise I won’t bring up politics. And I think this time around, I’ll lose the paper, too.