Smooth Sailing

July 31, 1983

July 31, 1983

Phil could still remember his excitement when he had first heard that Dad was helping the new commodore organize a junior regatta. Every year, he had watched his parents and his grandparents compete in the regatta, wishing that he could be in the boat with them. Now, it was his chance to be the skipper, and he didn't want to screw up his first chance at being a real sailor.

It was the last race in the regatta, and Phil knew that this would determine whether he and his sister would win. For most of the regatta, he hadn't thought too much of winning. Holly was the competitive one most of the time, and she had made sure that Phil didn't sail too badly in the first two races. She had taken over the tiller when Phil gave up in the middle of the first race, and she had pulled in the sail to go faster when Phil had debated over whether he should just let Theo win the second race. However, going into the third race, Phil knew that he and Holly were in third place, and if he did well in this race, then he might be able to win the whole regatta.

Grandma and Grandpa came over to breakfast the morning before the race. Grandpa, always an expert in making his overly high expectations clear to his grandchildren, told Phil and Holly exactly what he wanted out of them. "You two have to win this race," Grandpa said. "This family has always been successful in the Clearwater Lake Regatta, and I expect that to continue with the junior regatta."

"Okay, Grandpa," Holly said, rolling her eyes.

"We'll try our best," Phil said, eager to please Grandpa. He wanted to make the elder Morrisons happy, even if that was sometimes impossible. Phil wanted to believe that he could win this race, but at the same time, losing seemed far more likely.

Phil finished off his breakfast, and then he headed outside. "Good luck, Phil," Dad said.

"You'll do great," Grandma added.

"Thank you," Phil said. "Holly, are you ready?"

Holly drank the rest of her orange juice, bolted up from her seat, and ran after Phil. "I'm not so sure about this, Phil," she said once both of them were outside.

"What are you talking about?" Phil asked as he adjusted his glasses.

"I don't know if it will be possible for us to win the regatta," Holly said. "We're too far behind at this point."

"We're in third," Phil said. "That's not too far behind."

"We'd have to win this race to win the regatta," Holly said. "There are sixteen year olds out there - we won't beat them."

Phil looked out over the lake, where there were already sailboats lined up for the start of the regatta. Holly was right - several of the other sailors were far older than them, and that would make it nearly impossible to win. However, Phil knew sixteen year olds that were terrible sailors. Older sailors weren't necessarily better, but if the older sailors were more experienced, that did give them a definite advantage.

As Phil entered the boat, he watched the other boats and worried about how his impending loss would affect Dad. He was the one who had set up the junior regatta in the first place. If Phil didn't win, then maybe he wouldn't put it on next year. The regular regatta was an annual event, but this was the first time that Clearwater Lake had offered a regatta for the junior league. Phil desperately wanted this tradition to continue, and he worried that his Dad wouldn't keep it going if his children didn't win.

Phil's hands were shaking as he steered the boat towards the starting line. "Phil, what's wrong with you?" Holly asked.

"I don't know," Phil said. "I think I'm just nervous."