When my sister and I were young we would try to plan our weekend.  We would figure out who we could invite to spend the night.  You know what I mean, not a single parent has been asked but we have it all worked out. 

Unfortunately our parents like to do last minute trips and would say “girls we are going to Charleston”.  What this meant all of our plans just vanished and we would get stuck with each other on a boat in a town where we knew no one.  

We would complain ALOT.  

We didn’t get along very well either.

We began to dread trips to Charleston.

The reason was simple –  our friends were more important to us than being stuck on a sailboat with our parents and each other.  We didn’t see any benefit, nothing.  We wanted to stay home have friends spend the night and make forts in the playroom.  We also liked to let the hamsters out of the cage, and try not to lose them.

Oh we were going to make our parents pay for this grave mistake alright! 

We would stop at the store on the way and demand new comic books and magic tricks as our first installment.  It usually came out of our weekly allowance but we tried to push for extra.  When we would get to the marina we would push again for candy and bubblegum as payment for services rendered.

We would “forget” to lather enough sunscreen on so we would get severely sunburned.  We thought this was a smarter way to get a tan anyway. What did our parents know about getting tan?  Nothing as far as we were concerned. 

We would fight and complain relentlessly.  I mean I would want to say “I want my mommy” but that wouldn’t work because she was there.  I really wanted to be home with and hang out with our friends.  Mommy was ruining my life.

It was awful.  We would start the day early sometimes grabbing breakfast of hot tea and cold cereal on our sailboat.  We made sandwiches using Roman bread, mayonnaise, ham & Swiss cheese which my parents though was healthy, the smell of which brought back nightmares of being seasick.   Dinner was canned chunky soup on minute rice and green beans. 

During the sail, we would stretch across the cockpit trying to take up a whole side while “accidentally” kicking our sister and picking up fiberglass spores in our behinds.  (Kharma).  

We were delightful beasts.  

Then suddenly something out of the blue that would shake the mood and make us laugh.  On a sailboat we had no TV, just marine radio.  We would be so bored and have to share our comic books.  When our parents weren’t looking we would get along and actually talk.  

We started to slowly realize we were in the same “boat” so to speak and needed to make the best of it.  We both hated to go out to the ocean because we would get so seasick.  I used to crawl under the dining room table to hear the splash of the ocean on the side of the boat.  I don’t know why I liked that feeling, it made me feel safe.  The fiberglass floor was cooler.  Again we had the fiberglass spore problem and occasionally get on somewhere on our skin.

My sister liked to crawl up in the v-birth and sleep.  I always thought it was a riot when my dad would tack (change direction) and she would get thrown to the other side.

Looking back I think I know why my dad liked to sail in the ocean, because it was so peaceful.  The fighting beasts retreated below and it was quiet.

By the last day, we had finally agreed to disagree.  We ran out of tricks to get the other one in trouble.  We were both so sunburned we actually commiserated with each other.  My favorite part was lathering up with noxema and heading home.  

Then just as we pulled in the driveway at dark, it was time to drag everything in house.  My sister and I would seriously start to plan our next weekend of spend the night friends.

Who were we kidding?  We were going to repeat the same formula again next weekend.