“Watch your stern!” shouted the panicked skipper of the sailboat docked on the wall just before I was about to smash my 38,000-pound ocean-going sloop into him.

Francis and Maddie watched in stunned silence as I battled the 18-knot easterly wind that was blowing us into the boats tethered to the wall. I glanced around. “Not much room in here,” I thought a little too late. “Maybe I should have planned this better before I left the safety of my slip…”

I gunned the throttle into forward and punched the bow thruster to starboard, narrowly missing taking off the bowsprit of a powerboat on the end of A dock. I glanced around to see the audience that had assembled on the wall watching my antics. The dockmaster, Mike, stood with his arms on his hips. His head was shaking from side to side in disbelief. “He has only himself to blame,” I thought. “He’s the one who assigned me this slip!”

We headed out to the channel leading to the lake. A group of kayakers altered course. “Watch out!” shouted one kayaker to the leader, who had not seen us. “Here comes that sailboat!” The lead kayaker rapidly shifted course to get out of our way safely.

Once out on the lake, I headed the sailboat into the wind to raise the sails. The waves were enormous, and the 51-foot sailboat bounced erratically as we raised the mainsail. The 18-knot wind had me place two reefs in the mainsail. It surprised me how well things were going until my attempt at unfurling the jib failed. The lines for the code 0 sail had fouled the jib and prevented the jib from opening.

I cautiously made my way to the bow to untangle the line. I held onto the lifeline with one hand while reaching up to the fouled line. I couldn’t reach it. I let go of the lifeline just as we hit a massive wave. In one smooth move, the wave sent flying in the air. I unfouled the tangled line, then grabbed it to keep from soaring overboard.

Walking back to the cockpit, the satisfied feeling that my seamanship skills had saved the day didn’t last when Maddie said, “You almost went into the drink!” I had to admit it was good luck rather than skill…

Once sailing, the motion became smooth. The boat sliced through the blue waters. The sun warmed our spirits. As we approached the Toronto Sky line.

“Huh,” said Maddie. “How come we are the only sailboat out here?”

I glanced around. It was true. I could see no other sailboats. The day was magnificent. It was the perfect wind for S/V Ileana. We were speeding along at 7 knots. The waves no longer threw us around. It was exhilarating. The familiar feeling of serenity flooded through me as I marveled at the beauty of mastering the harmony of the wind, waves, and sailboat. It was one of those moments when time seemed to stand still and nothing in the world mattered except for living in the moment. I had Francis and Maddie to thank for coming as my crew for the day.

We reached the entrance to the western gap before we headed downwind, back to the Port Credit Yacht Club. The smooth downwind ride into the setting sun made for a perfect end of the day after an exciting day on the water. As promised, I treated Francis and Maddie to dinner at the clubhouse. No tables were available inside, so we ate outside. It was a little windy and cool, but the company was excellent.

It was there that Maddie learned her lifetime of good luck was about to begin. When you think about how much open sky there is and how many people are around, really … what are the chances. They are infinitesimally small. There we were, wolfing down our California wraps when from the heavens, down came a load of seagull shit, landing a direct hit on Maddie’s head. Some splashed onto her wrap, ending her zeal to finish the sandwich.

After a few explicits, and her rapid wipes of the napkins on the affected body parts, I realized Maddie’s good luck was about to begin. Without prompting, the server brought us the most exquisite dessert. A lemon swirl delight with whipped cream.

 “It was the last one,” said Olivia, the server apologetically. “I thought you deserved it free of charge.” She mumbled something about being sorry for keeping us waiting. The three of us all knew that was not the reason she had brought it to us.

It was the start of the good luck promised by the seagull.