1. Acknowledgements
“I never lose. I win or I learn.” – Nelson Mandela
I have many thanks to give for the completion of this portfolio and course. First, I
would like to thank my family at my home away from home, Camp Sea Gull. Camp
Sea Gull provided endless sources of inspiration and opportunities that I thoroughly
enjoyed sharing. The people at Camp have given me more than I could possibly give
them. I have learned so much about who I am as a person and how to become better
by bettering others. I owe who I am today and the stories included in this work to
those amazing people and that blessed place.
Secondly, I would like to thank Dr. Lowell Frye. Dr. Frye has put up with my
crap for over three years now and is one of the more influential professors I have
ever had the blessing to learn under. His genuine care for his students, not only as
academics, but as people, has inspired me to put forth my best effort and continue to
try to get better. I owe him many more thanks for writing a letter of
recommendation for my trip to Barcelona, Spain. That trip abroad changed my life in
so many indescribable ways and inspired me endlessly. I would not have had that
opportunity without Dr. Frye. Thank you.
Last but not least, I would like to thank my group in class, Benny Baranik and
Graves Anthony. We had many great discussions about our essays, but more
importantly, got to know one another in a deeper context. Many of the topics that
we wrote about are tough to talk about in every day conversation. Benny and Graves
not only helped me become a better writer through their constructive criticism, but
opened up in a way that helped develop friendship.

2. Table of Contents:
Acknowledgements:…………………………………………………………………………………………….. Pg. I
Table of Contents:………………………………………………………………………………………………. Pg. II
Pinehurst: The Anti-Community: ………………………………………………………………………Pg. 1-6
Can Kids Just be Kids?: ……………………………………………………………………………………Pg. 7-17
Time To Wake Up: ……………………………………………………………………………………….Pg. 17-21
Sailing Is Courage: ……………………………………………………………………………………….Pg. 21-30
Edward: ………………………………………………………………………………………………………Pg. 31-38
Reflection on the Semester: ………………………………………………………………………….Pg. 39-41

3. Pinehurst, the Anti-Community
“Wake up,” Mom gently shook me awake as I felt the car slow to a stop. I opened my
eyes to my first glimpse of a new chapter of my life. Twelve years old, tanned and
exhausted from my yearly summer at camp, I stretched, rubbed my eyes, and
scanned the outside of my new home-Nine Ruby Lane in Pinehurst, North Carolina-a
small brick cookie-cutter house with a one-car garage on a cul-de-sac. The front
yard was covered in a thin grass with sandy patches, infamously common in an area
of North Carolina that is aptly named “The Sandhills.” I knew nothing of Pinehurst
except that my aunt and uncle lived there and that there were a few golf courses
here and there. We had just moved from Greensboro, North Carolina, where I lived
down the street from my two best friends, could ride my bike to school, and enjoyed
being a kid. As the oldest of three siblings, I tried to stay as positive as possible when
we were told the news of the move. I wanted to show that my brother and sister
could be happy in a new place and meet new friends. Turns out that I would be the
one having trouble settling in.
My parents told me that Pinehurst was the golf capital of the United States.
They said that there was a lot of tourism and that the Pinehurst Resort was famous
for hosting events like the 2005 U.S. Open on the famous Pinehurst #2 course, an
event that had occurred the summer before I moved there. “People vacation here?” I
asked myself, as I took a skeptical look around. In all the pictures, Pinehurst appears
to be a lush green vacation utopia with all the comforts of a small Southern village. A
famous golf course, shopping, world-class hospitality, and bars all seem like

4. somewhere worth visiting. Pinehurst is a beautiful place, an evergreen village,
whose plentiful golf courses are lined with cottages that radiate a sense of
relaxation. What the slightly drunk golfers and the liberally credit-card-swiping
spouses don’t show is everyday life in Pinehurst for young people. Pinehurst is a
very safe place. In fact, the cops get so bored that I once had three police cars show
up to see what was going on when I got in a fender bender. There’s got to be
something for these police to do. There are only eight violent crimes and 125
property crimes per year in the peaceful village. The chances of becoming a victim of
crime in Pinehurst are one in 1907.
However, Pinehurst is a place where it is very easy for a young person to get
in trouble. There is not much room for a kid to run around and be a kid. When I was
thirteen, I was at an overnight Boy Scout meeting playing football with friends while
we were in our full uniforms in the back yard of our scout hut. A bad throw led to
the ball bouncing over the fence to the neighbor’s yard. The neighbor was a skinny,
wrinkly old lady who smoked like a chimney. She was sitting on her back porch
watching us play football with a suspicious glare that disturbed us when we first
saw her.
When I lived in Greensboro, we were free to go into other people’s yards to
collect lost toys or use it as the occasional short cut, so I was perfectly comfortable
volunteering to jump the fence to get the ball. I waved to the old lady and scaled the
fence, grabbed the ball, and as I was halfway back over, heard a sharp whistle. The
old lady whistled at me, made a “get out” gesture, and simply shook her head with
an angry scowl. I didn’t give it two seconds of worry, thinking, “What could she

5. possibly be mad at? I was just grabbing our ball.” That was the last of it…or so I
thought…
About an hour later, when we had regrouped and were in the middle of a
team-building exercise, we heard a knock on the front door. Tap, tap, tap, “Police.”
We all looked at each other, confused. The scoutmaster answered the door and let
the officers in. They told us that our next-door neighbor had called them because
someone had trespassed on her property. They were able to use her description to
identify me. I was forced to give my information to the police so that they could
make a report, just to tell me, “Don’t do it again.” Our little golf town had focused so
much on comfort that it had made it uneasy to simply be a kid.
Pinehurst, built to be a “health resort for people of modest means,” was
originally built in 1895, and the first golf course was built on the Pinehurst Resort
two years later (Pinehurst, North Carolina). The resort was and still is the main
attraction for the tourist-centered economy. Yet people love to meander along
Downtown Pinehurst through the little shops for trinkets and to drink at the
Jefferson Inn whenever they get back from a round of golf as well. Pinehurst has
developed a reputation for its focus on comfort, which many of the businesses
capitalize on. Some businesses do this by incorporating the name “Pinehurst” in the
title of their company. One of my favorite burger joints, “Pinehurst Café,” is a little
hole-in-the-wall restaurant that serves a killer patty melt. Pinehurst Café, like many
other businesses, applies the strategy of using the name Pinehurst to add to the
feeling of coziness that comes with the reputation of the village. Yet, what hides
under the mask of southern comfort is an intimidating face.

6. In 1999, Pinehurst village officials sued the Pinehurst Resort over the right to
use the name Pinehurst in its businesses (“1999: Village Sues Pinehurst Inc. Over
Name”). The resort had intimidated a local interior decorator and assisted living
center into dropping “Pinehurst” from the name of the business, infuriating local
officials, who argued that Pinehurst was the name of the village, not a label that
could be trademarked. The village won its case, forcing the resort to refrain from
challenging any business if it is not a direct competitor – a rival golf course. This is
the behavior one would expect out of a business in New York or another high-stakes
city, not a small Southern village built on the premise of hospitality and comfort.
It’s a sense of community that is missing. Very rare are events like Downtown
Southern Pine’s “First Friday,” a block party that the town throws on the first Friday
of every summer month. I can’t remember the last neighborhood get-together or
neighbor that went out of his or her way to talk to us. Although many of my
neighbors are elderly and have lived in Pinehurst for a reasonably long time, many
of them were not born and raised there (including me). We live in Pinehurst and it is
our community, but it is not our home. Not growing up in a community takes away
from much of the pride that comes with living there. All these retirees and military
families that occupy Pinehurst can’t buy into the community because they have to
assimilate and adjust to a new area and different people. A town full of people
having to adjust can only bring hostility and nervousness. You do not see an old lady
calling the cops on a kid in his Boy Scout uniform trying to get his football back in
communities where families have grown up and lived there from the beginning.
Until Pinehurst can realize the importance of continuity in the family aspect of

7. community, the village will never become a wholesome community. Unfortunately,
because of the village’s commitment to luxury, tourism, and its resort, this will likely
never happen.
It’s not like Pinehurst has intentionally drove the sense of community away.
Gated communities have played a large part in the privatization of the Sandhills.
According to McDevitt Town and Country Real Estate, there are at least eight private
gated communities in Pinehurst and neighboring town, Southern Pines ("Pinehurst
Golf Real Estate & Homes."). Most of these include golf courses and special perks for
residents. Gated communities are growing quickly in demand, “reflected in an
increasing fear of crime that is unrelated to actual crime trends or locations”
(Blakely, Edward J., and Mary Gail Snyder). With the added luxury of a resort town
and golf courses designed by the likes of golf legends Jack Nicklaus and Gary Player,
people come in droves to purchase the expensive properties that run from $300,000
to millions of dollars. Residents look to live in these gated communities for the
added security and private lifestyle that it offers. Often, these communities come
with strict regulations that control how a house may look and other aspects that are
not normally controlled. The goal for these residents is to separate themselves from
the outside, to border off the people that the residents do not seem fit to associate
with. These homes are not solely for permanent residents. Many use them as
vacation homes, further separating them from the community by not being present
many months out of the year. It’s difficult to develop a sense of community around
one that is built off fear and privatization. When there are eight large, private
communities that do not want to do with any of the other seven or outside

8. communities, the sense of togetherness dissolves as more people associate with the
gated community than the town. For example, when I ask many of my high school
friends where they would say they’re from, many say “National Golf Club” or
“Pinewild Country Club” rather than “Pinehurst” or “Southern Pines.”
Once association transfers from the town to the communities, the real
comfort of a neighborhood leaves with it. Here’s to the chance that Pinehurst can
figure out how to balance the amazing economic asset they have in the world class
golf resorts while developing a community that appreciates and values longevity
and hospitality. Because right now Pinehurst is a resort, not a home.
Works Cited:
Blakely, Edward J., and Mary Gail Snyder. "Fortress America." NYTimes.com. The New York
Times, n.d. Web. <https://www.nytimes.com/books/first/b/blakely-fortress.html>.
"Crime Rates for Pinehurst, NC." Pinehurst NC 28374 Crime Rates and Crime Statistics. N.p.,
n.d. Web. 09 Nov. 2015.
<http://www.neighborhoodscout.com/nc/pinehurst/crime/>.
"1999: Village Sues Pinehurst Inc. over Name." Golfweek.com. Associated Press, n.d. Web.
09 Nov. 2015. <http://golfweek.com/news/1999/nov/30/1999-village-sues-
pinehurst-inc-over-name/?print>.
"Pinehurst Golf Real Estate & Homes." Pinehurst Golf Real Estate & Homes. N.p., n.d. Web.
10 Dec. 2015. <http://www.mcdevitttownandcountry.com/pinehurst-gated.html>.
"Pinehurst, North Carolina." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 09 Nov. 2015.
<https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pinehurst,_North_Carolina>.

9. Can Kids just be Kids?
Wyatt Taylor, General Secretary of the Raleigh YMCA, stood at the gate on an already
hot June morning, waiting to let to the inaugural group of campers into Camp Sea
Gull, a YMCA camp for boys in Arapahoe, North Carolina. The year was 1948 and
parents and their children were lined up in anticipation of the summer. The kids
couldn’t wait for what was in store that summer, and the counselors couldn’t wait to
see the impact they would have on those kids’ lives. They had no idea that their
camp was going to create an extensive spider web connecting lifelong best friends,
opportunity, and character development.
After years of scouting out potential locations for the camp on the eastern
coast of North Carolina, Wyatt (being called by your first name is a Camp Sea Gull
tradition) began searching on the Neuse River. The Neuse River is the largest river
in the state of North Carolina and opens right into the Atlantic Ocean. It is densely
populated with small eastern North Carolina towns such as Oriental and New Bern.
Wyatt came across an area upriver of Oriental on the ocean-side of the sharp bend
in the river that was blessed with a several distinguishing qualities. At this point on
the river, the diameter of the river is wide and deep enough to allow for powerboats
and large sailboats. It is wide enough so that the wind is strong and consistent
enough to instruct sailing at a high level. The site was located on the ocean-side of
the point, so a phenomenon that came to be called the “Sea Gull Bubble” occurs. The
geographical feature of the point causes many storms that appear in the area to

10. bend around the site at a safe distance, so the plot avoids many storms that would
otherwise hinder the camping experience.
In 1948, Wyatt convinced the YMCA Board of Directors that this humid,
undeveloped site on the Neuse River was the perfect location for his camp. With
$50,000 granted to him for development, Wyatt designed a camp to model military
barracks. The Mess Hall and flagpole face the water with two outreaching arms of
cabins to form a “V.” In front center, a pier outstretched its arm a quarter mile into
the Neuse River.
Chris Craft powerboats waited on the right side while Prams, a bathtub with
a sail, and Lightnings, a nineteen-foot-long racing sailboat, moored on the left for
some boy to learn to sail. Wyatt and his wife, Lil, worked with the YMCA to form this
nautical camp for boys partly because Wyatt believed that the kids needed an
opportunity to learn about the sea and boating; there were plenty of mountain

11. camps, but no camps on the coast. He wanted boys to be able to learn to sail,
motorboat, fish, and ski because he knew there were limited opportunities for those
who didn’t live by the ocean or a body of water. That’s what the kids came for. The
kids were in line to have the most fun summer of their lives; their parents were in
line for the same reason Wyatt founded the camp – “to put Christian principles into
practice through programs that help healthy spirit, mind, and body for all” (Our
Mission. Mission Statement, Cause-driven Organization).
Technology has made it increasingly difficult for parents to let their kids out
of their sight and for a kid to get away from the real world. There were no cell
phones, no iPads, no Internet to distract kids from playing or to serve as a medium
with which the media could saturate us with horror stories of child abductions and
other crimes. Parents trusted their children to go outside, play with friends, and
most importantly, make mistakes. Kids would run out the door in the mornings as
their parents called out “Be back for dinner!” Kids were allowed to go on adventures
around their town, get into trouble, and learn about life through experience. Parents
were less exposed to the high amount of up-to-date news about danger as they are
today.
Today, children face another danger. This danger is not a child abductor, but
something equally harmful. Smart phones, social networks, and other advanced
technology of today have not only caused parents to tighten the reins on supervision
of their children but have also trapped the playfulness and imagination of the kids.
Many children would now prefer to sit inside and play a videogame about football
rather than go outside and actually play football. According to the Wall Street

12. Journal, as of 2014, the number of children who play organized team sports is
declining faster than their respective population. The percentages of these kids aged
six through seventeen fell “by roughly four points from 2008 to 2012”. One of the
potential causes, while not the sole cause, that the Wall Street Journal associates
with is the outbreak of social media and video games. The athletic director of
Shawnee Mission North High School in Overland Park, Kansas, George Sallas, even
admitted, “kids are more trained now to stay at home and play video games”
(Wallerson, Ryan).
What kids are losing is a sense of adventure. Back in 1948, Wyatt Taylor
believed that Camp Sea Gull would allow boys to learn to develop character through
programs that were fun but allowed them to fail in a safe environment. By being
able to fail, the boys are able to learn more than if they are simply given the right to
drive the fastest motorboat or take out the largest sail boat. No body knows if Wyatt
anticipated the technological boom that would occur sixty years later, tying kids
down to their couches instead of being free to roam their world. Even if he didn’t,
his camp now provides that safe place to fail with an entire new aspect: the chance
to unplug and escape the outside world.
Children are so much more exposed to what is happening in the world than
they were even in the 1990’s. Fifty-six percent of children aged eight to twelve have
a cell phone. Ninety-one percent of teenagers have access to the Internet through a
cell phone (Kids Wireless Use Facts). Information is much more readily available to
children and teens today than it was even ten years ago. These kids need, now more
than ever, a place where the only thing they worry about is which activity to go to

13. next. Kids need a place to run around with their best friends that has positive male
role models to inspire them to do what’s right. Kids need a place where they can
discover what they’re passionate about and then learn to work hard to achieve goals
that they, not their parents, set for themselves. Kids need a place full of
encouragement where it is safe to fail, where they can learn from their mistakes
without being ostracized. Camp Sea Gull and many other camps around the United
States are providing this freedom to the kids. These kids need now more than ever a
place to find all these freedoms in order to develop into men that have character and
a work ethic that is disappearing in a world that is becoming more entitled and
embracing the “everybody wins” attitude. Camp is that place.
The summer of 2013, I worked as a sailing instructor at Camp Sea Gull I was
assigned Racing Fleet Captain. I was in charge of the maintenance of six 420’s, an
Olympic class racing boat that is 420 centimeters long (creative, right?), as well as
the organization of the 420 classes. I had five trainers whom I supervised, all of
whom taught the class for a week, and then brought the camper to me so that I could
test his competency. I tested his ability to roll tack, cleanly gybe, and fly spinnakers.
I tested the candidates on a racecourse to evaluate their racing knowledge and
skills. The campers who had the ability that I deemed satisfactory would earn the
rank, “420 Skipper,” an intermediate level in the sailing ranks. 420 Skippers were
better sailors than most campers, but not yet on the elite level. I had a lot of respect
for the rank, so I was a tough evaluator. I kept my trainers on a high standard as
well. I wanted the sailors that came through my program to really understand the
concepts that we taught and be able to consistently apply them on the water. I can

14. happily say that during my regime as Racing Fleet Captain, we had a record number
of campers pass the elite ranks of sailing after learning from my trainers and passing
my examination.
I had a particularly eye-opening experience that truly showed me the
positive effects that Camp has on these kids. A twelve-year-old, John Knight, had
blazed through the beginner sailing ranks and had taken 420 training. His trainer
gave him permission for me to test him and I could see the confidence glowing as he
beat upwind to the racecourse that I used to test campers. The test consisted of
completing two laps of an upwind-downwind racecourse simulating a real life race
situation, meaning the race had a committee boat, starting whistles, and the ability
to protest. This forced the camper to apply his racing knowledge to an actual course
with other campers. I liked to have more than one boat testing at the same time to
simulate a competitive atmosphere of a race. The course required that the skipper
perform roll tacks in order to reach the upwind marker and a gybe to get to the
downwind marker, all while obeying racing rules and etiquette. John approached
the starting line and took off right at the whistle – a great start – and glided expertly
through his roll tacks as he rounded the upwind marker. But he began to gybe, John
lost his balance and slipped, causing him to lose his momentum and fail his first
gybe attempt. It pained me to do so, but I had to fail him.
I called out to him from my Boston Whaler to give it another shot. This time
John had another great start, but as he beat upwind, his nerves began to grow and
confidence dwindled. I could see him peeking back at me to see if I saw that he
jumped too early on a roll tack. He failed to properly perform the maneuver that he

15. had just nailed on his first attempt. What had to be even more irritating for him is
that he performed a perfect, balanced, well-timed gybe on the downwind leg.
Unfortunately, it was getting late in the activity period and I had to call him in
without passing him. I never like to fail a camper without giving him a
comprehensive report on what he did well and how he could improve. I met with
John back on the pier and prepared to explain how he could improve. Before I could
start, John started bawling. “I can’t do this,” he cried. “I’ve tried so many times!” I
was caught off guard by how upset he was. I could tell how badly he wanted this
rank. He collapsed against a piling and covered his face. I sat next to him. “This isn’t
the end of the world,” I explained. “You have all the skills to pass this rank.” John
continued to doubt himself and shook off my support. I explained to him that he
successfully completed all the maneuvers necessary to pass; he just didn’t execute
them consistently enough for me to grant it a passing performance. I reaffirmed that
he had the talent to pass this rank and even advance into the elite ranks, but he
needed the confidence in himself to get over the hump. John began to show a little
light and looked up at me while I was talking to him. I made him tell himself, “I can
do this,” a couple times because I honestly believed the kid could pass, but that
meant nothing unless John believed it as well.
Finally, John came through with a compromise. He asked me to join him on
the boat during his test. Initially, I was skeptical because I normally test from my
Boston Whaler to be able to watch more than one boat at once. I also thought my
presence on the boat would intimidate him even more. I was surprised when he
admitted that my joining him would help calm him down because he knew I

16. believed in him. I agreed once I realized that he needed me for the emotional
support, not the tactical support.
Every person reacts differently to challenges and needs something different
to help him or her overcome them. For John, his support came in the presence of
someone whom he trusted and who believed in him. I saw this as we sailed out to
the racecourse that he had completed so many times. As we crossed the starting line
and prepared for the first roll tack, I looked back to him and gave him a nod. “You
got this,” I affirmed. I still saw the nerves in his eyes, but his voice hid it well. He
gave the commands, “Prepare to come about. Ready about? Hard to lee!” We rolled
the boat hard and strong like a rocking chair into a perfect roll tack. I didn’t say a
word but couldn’t hide the smile on my face. We came to the point for the second
roll tack and John yelled the commands with even more confidence. “Hard to lee!”
He nailed it. At this point, I let out a whoop; I was having fun! I didn’t mean to since I
was trying to maintain a composed nature as the tester, but roll tacks are one of the
more rhythmic and exhilarating maneuvers in sailing and I was having a blast as this
kid honed the craft. We rounded the upwind marker and prepared to gybe. “Prepare
to gybe! Helms to the weather! Gybe ho!” commanded a new, confident John that
wasn’t the same kid who was crying on the pier. John swung the boom across the
boat with precision and balance, never losing control of the helm. I was able to keep
composed as I knew he had just completed the hardest part of the test. Now all he
had to do is finish the race, which he did in a quick fashion.
“Alright, let’s go in,” I told John. I didn’t reveal to him that he had passed and I
could see that the nerves were creeping their way back into his mind. I was silent as

17. he skippered us back into mooring and as he furled his boat. He finished and
approached me and asked me if he had passed. “I have a couple questions for you
first,” I replied as I saw him grow more and more nervous. I drilled him with a
couple racing tactic questions that I knew he would answer correctly. “How do you
approach the downwind marker?” I asked. “Wide and tight,” John answered. “Name
three points of a good start,” I quizzed him. “Starboard tack, close to the line, and full
speed?” he replied as I could see him beginning to question my motives. “How many
times is the charm?” I asked. “Third?” John answered suspiciously. “That’s right!
Third time’s the charm! You passed!” John couldn’t even say a word. He simply gave
me a huge bear hug. I picked him up and threw him into the river, as was tradition
for campers who passed the exam. The smile on his face was contagious. Campers
and counselors on the pier crowded around him to congratulate him on his
accomplishment. I think it took him a while to realize what he just had done, but I
could tell that a whole new level of confidence had just developed in that child.
The true results of his journey would not be seen until the next summer. On
one of the first days of camp, an older, more confident John approached me to thank
me for all my help one year in the past. I was astonished that he remembered what
he went through and even more surprised that he remembered me. John told me
that he was entering Lightning Training, the highest level of training at Camp. I told
him that I had 100 percent confidence that he had the ability to pass the rank as long
as he had confidence in himself. He had more than enough confidence in himself.
Three weeks later, John approached me again with news. He had that same huge
smile on his face that I recognized from one year earlier and before he could even

18. tell me, I guessed, “You nailed it, didn’t you?” He didn’t say a word; he just pulled out
the blue hat with a red lightning bolt that only a camper who passes the test gets
and put it on his head. John thanked me for believing in him the year before. He told
me that if I had not pushed him, he would never had the confidence to pursue his
goal of Lightning Skipper, let alone accomplish it.
That is what Camp is all about. Camp allows boys and girls like John the
opportunity to fail. But what is so great about that opportunity is the chance they
have to learn from their mistakes and build confidence in a safe environment that is
unplugged from the outside world. At camp, all these kids need to worry about is
becoming the best version of themselves that they can be. That will carry over into
the real world and give them an advantage that kids sitting at home playing video
games will never have: the confidence in themselves to try something new, fail,
learn from their mistakes, and believe in themselves enough to overcome those
obstacles. That is what this society needs more than ever and Camp is the place that
can provide it.
Works Consulted:
"Kids Wireless Use Facts." Kids Wireless Use Facts. N.p., n.d. Web. 10 Nov. 2015.
<http://www.growingwireless.com/get-the-facts/quick-facts#children>.
"Lightning Sailboat Specifications." Sailboatdata.com. N.p., n.d. Web.
<http://sailboatdata.com/viewrecord.asp?class_id=2913>.
"Our Mission." Character Counts. N.p., n.d. Web. 25 Sept. 2015. <http://www.seagull-
seafarer.org/about-us/our-mission>.

19. "Our Mission." Mission Statement, Cause-driven Organization. YMCA of the Triangle,
n.d. Web. <https://www.ymcatriangle.org/about-y/our-mission>.
Wallerson, Ryan. "Youth Participation Weakens in Basketball, Football, Baseball,
Soccer." WSJ. N.p., 31 Jan. 2014. Web. 10 Nov. 2015.
<http://www.wsj.com/articles/SB10001424052702303519404579350892
629229918>.
Time to Wake Up
I sat in my plane from Toronto to Frankfurt, opened up the journal that I promised
my grandparents that I would write and began to put some thoughts together. I
looked to my destination and what experiences would meet me there; I was heading
across the Atlantic Ocean to study abroad in Barcelona – my first experience outside
of the United States. As I started writing down the obvious cliché goals I wanted to
accomplish and sites that I wanted to see, I began to think back on why I was on this
plane in the first place and what made it such a difficult decision to leave
somewhere that was familiar and has some of my best friends, Hampden-Sydney
College, so spontaneously for a place where I hardly knew anything about two
months prior to the flight.
I looked back to my sophomore year at Hampden-Sydney College. A younger,
enthusiastic version of myself entered the year on a mission: to rebound from a
subpar academic year. I registered for 18 hours of class, three more than my usual
15 and six more than the required twelve. I knew in order to accomplish this some

20. sacrifices would be have to made. It was my first full year as a brother of the Kappa
Alpha Order and I was more than ecstatic to be a part of that group of guys and the
social events that would happen that year. “Think long term,” I would tell myself,
sitting in the library while my friends would be having the time of their lives. As the
semester dragged on, the temptation of skipping out on doing what was right
became greater and greater, but it was worth it when I made the Dean’s List for the
first time.
Like a broken record, I returned from Winter break eager and refreshed only
to find out that I had caught Mono… forcing me to immediately spend two weeks at
home and more later due to two other relapses, severely restricting the activities I
could do, due to the severity of my case. Some of my favorite things to do were taken
away from me: sports, drinking, traveling, and tutoring at Prince Edward County
Elementary School. All the work I just put into recovering my grades seemed to be in
danger too. I missed so many classes that I was forced to drop two classes, setting
me behind on my path to graduate on time. To make matters worse, my fraternity
had gone into a serious suspension and was on the brink of losing its charter. At this
point, I was seriously considering transferring and begun to research the process. As
I was scrolling through the Hampden-Sydney College website looking for the
directory, a tab called “Global Education” caught my eye. My grandparents had been
telling me for years that I should consider studying abroad; they, in their old age,
have traveled to countless other countries, including New Zealand, Scotland, and
Spain. I started comparing Hampden-Sydney with the other schools I was
considering transferring to. Neither the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill,

21. College of Charleston, nor North Carolina State University had quite the same
opportunities that I discovered that we have at Hampden-Sydney.
I finally made it to where I would live for the next four months. My host
mother, Feli, who was a small, older single mother of three, let me in to a small flat
that would be my home. I gave her a small gift of appreciation for letting me live
with her - a dye cast model of a Pinehurst Resort golf cart. I couldn’t understand a
word of the rapid Spanish that she was saying, but I assumed – or hoped - she liked
it. The flat was pitch black. I used the wall to track my way down the foreign hallway
to my room, where I unpacked and then blindly found my way into the living room,
where my roommate was sitting in a chair, watching soccer. I introduced myself to
him and sat down on the couch only to feel squirming under me. I looked down and
saw my host mother passed out cold under a blanket on the couch – I almost
crushed her! I guess almost getting sat on by one of your foreign exchange students
motivated her to get up and give us a tour, so she walked us around and showed us a
few streets and places in Sant Gervasi, our neighborhood. Again, I had no idea what
in the world she was saying or where she was taking us. My Spanish was not as the
point where I could understand what she was saying and I was naturally hopeless
with directions. I got lost countless times in the first few weeks that I was in
Barcelona. I was that obvious tourist who walked around with a huge map and wore
a backpack sticking out like a sore thumb.
It took a while for me to accept that I was no longer blending in with my
surroundings. At Hampden-Sydney, I am just one of the guys, but in Barcelona I was
a confused, khaki-wearing tourist who butchered the Spanish language with a

22. southern drawl. I had never lived in a big city before. The hustle and bustle of
Barcelona intimidated me into jumping into a routine that wasn’t very adventurous,
since I was still working on getting to know the people who were studying with me.
It took a friend inviting me to go to Rome with them for me to truly see that to make
the most out of this experience, I was going to have to get out of my comfort zone
and actively be involved in the community.
Naturally, I am a homebody. I have been content to just chill with friends and
be minimally involved. I have not been actively involved in clubs at school – I was in
one club and had a small roll with my fraternity, but that’s about it. It took me a
while to force myself to go sit outside at a restaurant and people watch or go watch
the magic fountain of Montjïc or even hike up the famous Parc Guell. The more that I
thought about it, the more I realized that Barcelona was not unlike Hampden-
Sydney. While there wasn’t the bustling city dynamic of Barcelona, Hampden-
Sydney still provides plenty of things to do. The more I got acclimated and involved
in Barcelona, the more I regretted not being involved at Hampden-Sydney. I had
never been hunting, fishing, or rented a canoe since I’ve been here. The struggles
that I experienced in my first two years at Hampden-Sydney were brought upon by
me, I decided. A place is only as fun as you make it. There are plenty of things to do
anywhere; you just need to open your eyes and search with a positive attitude.
There are still plenty of things that I have yet to do in Barcelona just as there
are still things I have to do before I graduate from Hampden-Sydney. Without
Barcelona, I fear that I would have come back to southern Virginia with the same
lazy attitude as before, graduated, and looked back on my experience with regret.

23. There will be another chance for me to visit Barcelona and relive my stay there, but I
will never be 20 years old and in college with some of my best friends again.
Sailing Is Courage
Walk into the sail loft of Camp Sea Gull for boys in Arapahoe, North Carolina, and on
above the entrance you will see the words “Sailing is Courage” inscribed on a plaque.
When I first read those words, I was seven years old and my first sailing instructor
told me those words would be the truest thing I’d learn while at camp. He was right.
What I didn’t know was that the first time sitting on an old Sunfish – a fourteen feet
long dingy made for one to three people (Sunfish Boat Specifications) – would
capture my imagination and start an obsession that is only stronger fifteen years
later.
While I have always enjoyed sailing, I never had a good opportunity to
develop my skills until I became a sailing counselor at Camp Sea Gull. I had always
been able to get around on a boat but never understood what made the boat go
(apart from wind, of course). One of the best ways to learn a craft is to teach it. You
understand how to sail better if you have to find a way to help a seven-year-old to
understand it. As I began progressing through the ranks of counselors, I taught more
advanced sailing concepts, some that I had never previously learned myself. I
enjoyed learning the tactics, strategies, and physics of the sport as much as I enjoyed
teaching it. I found that the sport I had so instinctively grasped as a seven-year-old
is one of the most intellectual sports out there. I seek to be very involved in the

24. sailing community in the future to further develop the skills that I learned and
taught. To become great at something, one must understand how it works on a
scientific level and sailing is no exception.
Nomenclature:
As with any sport or science, gaining an understanding of the nomenclature of the
art is critical before diving into more complex topics. To comprehensively grasp the
physics behind sailing, one must be able to recognize the parts of the boat. At any
time if you are confused about a term, refer to the appendix at the end for a
definition.
Points of Sail:
One of the most challenging struggles that I have when teaching young kids to sail is
getting them to understand boat direction relative to the wind, or Points of Sail.
Points of sail describe the direction that the boat will head as well as the speed.
There are six points of sail and they all revolve around one concept: it is physically
impossible for a sailboat to sail directly into the wind – in fact, most boats need to be
about forty-five degrees from the wind in order for the sails to catch enough air to
push the boat forward.
I can’t count how many kids that I have taught who sit in the boat facing the
wind, not grasping this concept. The first point of sail is exactly this and it is referred
to as “Irons.” “Irons” is the angle directly facing the wind to which the sails are
luffing (flapping uncontrollably). This encompasses the forty-five degrees to either
side of the wind before the sails catch enough air to power up. To exit Irons, one
must “Back Down,” which is the action of allowing the current and wind to push the

25. boat backwards as you point your tiller hard to starboard or port. This act is much
like driving backwards in a car. The current pushes on the rudder and slowly points
the boat to an angle where once straightened out, you can tighten your sheet, the
line that controls the tension of the sail, and begin sailing again. One thing to keep in
mind: sail trim is crucial to each point of sail. The higher your boat points upwind,
the tighter your sails need to be to the boat. When the sails are tight to the boat, it
reduces the angle that the wind hits the sail, allowing for the sails to catch more
wind and provide more power. One technique I teach my students is to ease the
sheets so that they luff, then tighten them and stop right when the sails completely
fill with air. This will ensure you are at proper sail trim for the point of sail you are
currently on.
Once you’re at an angle that can catch wind in your sails and have tightened
your sheet close to the center of the boat, you’re at the second point of sail, Close
Hauled. This is the highest effective point of sail and closest that a boat can sail
upwind. Racers prefer the close-hauled point of sail because it gives them the
smallest angle with which to reach an upwind marker. Any other point of sail
requires a larger angle, which creates more ground to cover.
Fall off slightly and ease your sheet and you have reached the point of sail
called “Close Reach.” When asked which point is fastest, most students typically
answer one that goes downwind with the wind – Close Reach is the fastest point of
sail for most boats, believe it or not – due to Bernoulli’s Principle, which I will
explain later. This is one of the more exhilarating points of sail. In high winds, the

26. wind wants to push the boat over, causing it to keel over and forcing the skipper to
use his/her weight to balance the boat.
Keep falling off until you are completely perpendicular to the wind and you
have reached the “Beam Reach” stage, often simply referred to as a “Beam,” in which
your boat is at a ninety-degree angle to the wind. It is a fast point of sail that we as
instructors often teach students to use when in trouble because they can completely
release the sheet and the boom, the horizontal pole that connects the sail to the
vertical pole, or mast, will fly out away from the boat and out of harm’s way. We call
this “Safety position.”
The point of sail between a Beam Reach and sailing completely downwind is
called “Broad Reach.” Here, your sails are almost completely out and you can raise
your centerboard because you are sailing with the current and wind so drag is not
that big of a factor.
Finally, sailing completely parallel with the wind is called “Running Free” or
“Running.” While Running, your boat’s sails are completely out and there is no need
for a centerboard since you are sailing with the current and wind.
A lot of times I get asked by my students “why doesn’t the wind push the boat
down the water? (By this, they mean why doesn’t the boat move with the wind
rather than at an angle to the wind?) How does the boat go forward?” This
phenomenon is created by the drag or friction forced upon the water by the
centerboard. The centerboard (a long board that resembles a plane wing) reduces
the downward push on the boat and focuses the energy in a forward motion,
keeping the boat heading upwind rather than drifting down the water. Without the

27. centerboard, a Close Hauled and any upwind point of sail down to a Beam Reach is
impossible (Points of Sail).
Bernoulli’s Principle:
Recall the feeling when you stick your hand out the window of a moving car. You
flatten your hand and allow the wind to carry your arm up and down as you feel the
lift and pull. This is the closest physical sensation to what is called “Bernoulli’s
Principle.” Here, your sail acts just like a wing on a plane. As the wind flows over one
side of the sail, it fills the sail with air. At the same time, the air flowing on the other
side of the sail is moving faster and cannot push the sail as hard as the other side.
Therefore, the sail is forced perpendicular to the wind direction. As discussed
previously, this would normally push the boat with the wind, but the centerboard

28. creates resistance against this lateral force, creating only one direction for the boat
to go: forward (Wolfe, Joe).
Sailing Upwind:
Imagine you are sitting on your Sunfish and you want to sail to an island where all
your friends are hanging out for the day. The island is directly upwind from where
you are right now. You point your boat to the island and prepare to party with your
pals, but you’re not going anywhere. The sail luffs uncontrollably over your head as
you struggle to figure out why you aren’t moving. You recall from your sailing class
the points of sail and remember that it’s impossible to sail directly into the wind.
How are you supposed to get there then? You can only sail about forty-five degrees
close hauled from the wind, so sailing to the left or right will put you way past the
island on either side. After some deliberation, you have a brilliant idea: if I sail in one

29. direction for a little while and tack, I can angle my boat to a point where I can sail to
the island. You just figured out the fundamental technique of sailing; Beating
upwind, as this action is called, is how sailors reach points that lie directly upwind.
This repeated zigzag motion allows the boat to eventually reach an angle with which
it can successfully sail to the upwind destination (Tacking Invervals).
Sailing can be one of the most relaxing and most exhilarating sports in the
world. There is nothing more relaxing than cruising on a calm summer day,
watching the sun set over the water as you drink a beer with some of your best
friends. The rhythmic rocking of the boat and the soft splash of the water against the
hull sooth all the senses and put one in a meditative state. Yet, the sheer thrill and
competitiveness of a high-intensity regatta can seldom be matched. Imagine one
hundred boats fighting tirelessly for position on the starting line while trying to
avoid contact with other boats. There are countless tactics and strategies to think
about and the speed can satisfy any action junkie. Sailing is a beautiful sport and
there is so much more to learn about it. The technology continues to improve as the

30. physics is further studied. Recently in the America’s Cup, a maneuver called
“Hydrofoiling” was introduced to the sailing and racing world. Hyrdofoiling is when
a double-hulled catamaran with two centerboards that resemble upside down “T’s”
use a combination of angles, speed, and water pressure to physically lift the boat out
of the water to reduce the surface area that the boat is touching the water and
therefore increase speeds to unheard of levels. Sailing is constantly improving and
developing. New developments such as hydrofoiling are only a glimpse at the future
of this amazing sport.

31. Appendix:
Bow: The front end of the boat
Stern: The back end of the boat
Port: The left side of the boat when facing the bow
Starboard: The right side of the boat when facing the bow
Fore: The front of the boat
Aft: The back of the boat
Mast: The vertical pole that supports the sail
Masthead: The top of the mast
Boom: the horizontal pole attached to the mast, also supporting the sail
Tack/Comeabout: A change in direction in which the bow crosses facing the
wind
Starboard/Port Tack: Called “Starboard tack” or “Port tack,” defining which
side of the boat that the wind is crossing first. On a Starboard tack, the wind
crosses the starboard side first. On a Port tack, the wind crosses the port side
first.
Gybe: A change in direction in which the bow crosses with the wind
Mainsail: A three-cornered sail fastened to the mast and boom that most
powerfully pushes the boat
Jib: A smaller, three-cornered sail on the fore of the boat, fastened to the
masthead and bow, used on larger boats to increase power and control
Spinnaker: A large, three-cornered sail, set foremost of mainsail.
Sheet: The lines that control the tension and angle of the sails. The tighter
you trim the sheet, the closer the sail is to the boat. The looser you ease the
sheet, the farther away the sail sits from the boat.
Centerboard: The vertical board in the center of the boat that prevents
horizontal drift when sailing
Rudder: The vertical board on the stern that controls the direction of the
boat
Tiller: The handle attached to the rudder that is used for steering
Pointing up: The act of steering a sailboat closer to windward
Falling off: (No, not literally falling off) The act of steering a sailboat away
from windward.

32. Works Consulted:
"Physics Buzz: The Physics of Sailing: How Does a Sailboat Move Upwind?" Physics
Buzz: The Physics of Sailing: How Does a Sailboat Move Upwind? N.p., n.d. Web.
30 Oct. 2015. <http://physicsbuzz.physicscentral.com/2015/05/the-
physics-of-sailing-how-does.html>.
"The Physics of Sailing." The Physics of Sailing. N.p., n.d. Web. 30 Oct. 2015.
<http://ffden-
2.phys.uaf.edu/211_fall2002.web.dir/josh_palmer/basic.html>.
"Points of Sail; Illustration of a Sailboat at Different Angles to the Wind." Points of
Sail; Illustration of a Sailboat at Different Angles to the Wind. N.p., n.d. Web. 30
Oct. 2015. <http://www.schoolofsailing.net/points-of-sail.html>.
"Sunfish Boat Specifications." Sunfish Boat Specifications. N.p., n.d. Web. 30 Oct.
2015. <http://www.sunfishdirect.com/store/specifications>.
"Tacking Intervals." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 30 Oct. 2015.
<https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tacking_(sailing)#/media/File:Tacking_Inte
rvals.svg>.
Wolfe, Joe. "The Physics of Sailing." The Physics of Sailing. N.p., n.d. Web. 30 Oct.
2015. <http://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/~jw/sailing.html>.

33. Edward
You always think you know how you will react in an emergency. You simulate the
situation in your head and see yourself expertly navigating harsh waters until you
come out on the other side of the sea without a scratch. It’s easier to see yourself
emerging victorious than defeated. I know personally that it was difficult to find my
own inadequacies. While in high school, I earned my Eagle Scout award with the Boy
Scouts of America, whose motto, “Be Prepared,” trained me to be aware of the
situation around me and to properly analyze how to react in an emergency. In a less
politically correct manner, my grandfather always told me about the six “P’s:”
“Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance.” I always thought that I would be
prepared to handle an emergency if one occurred. However, in the summer of 2014,
I was forced to stare my shortcomings in the face.
I was a fourth year counselor at Camp Sea Gull on the coast of North Carolina.
I was the oldest counselor on the sailing staff as well as one of the most experienced
sailors on staff. I wasn’t the most talented sailor, but I was definitely among them for
someone who doesn’t sail year-round. As the most senior counselor on staff, I was
assigned the role of Keelboat Instructor for the summer, a cushy job in which I
taught the most advanced ranks on a twenty-five foot Catalina. Pretty much, my job
was to relax on the stern while I told my students what maneuver to perform while
they sailed. I hardly ever even rigged the boat – that was something my students did.
I taught docking and heave-to, but I most rigorously taught the man-overboard
procedure. Myself, I had been trained earlier in the summer to learn the maneuvers

34. so that I could teach them. I practiced them hundreds of times until I could do them
in my sleep. My instructor, Sykes DeHart, the camp director’s father, even told the
Sailing Master that I was one of the quickest he had ever seen to grasp man-
overboard and be able to perform the maneuver. On top of that, during the summer
I taught the maneuver another couple hundred times and even drilled my students
on what to do in case of a failed attempt. I became so comfortable sailing that boat
that I could single-handedly sail it and even dock it by myself (it requires two people
to sail). I thought I was invincible on that boat.
Apart from instructing, I gave younger campers rides in the early morning
during their time on the water. I loved this part of the job because it gave me a
chance to sail and keep my skills sharp. Kids aged seven to twelve are going to have
mixed reactions when getting on a boat that is designed to keel over. Some kids
panicked when they felt the boat leaning over and the water touching the railing.
For these kids, I would usually only sail on the mainsail and not use the jib so as to
keep the boat calm and flat; I tried to convince them that it was impossible for this
boat to capsize. There are other kids who love the strange combination of
adrenaline and fear created by the boat as it keels over and the wind whips across
their face. Edward, a seven year old, was one of these kids.
One of my favorite parts of the job was to corral kids who had never sailed
before or who were scared of the water and take them sailing. I had an advantage
over the smaller boats because I could sail without getting wet and guarantee not
capsizing. It was easier to convince a young, frightened camper to go on a large boat
with eight other people than it was to wade through the water and get on a Sunfish,

35. a boat that capsizes all the time. I would frequently take young campers on their
first ever time on a boat because I could control the boat and was good at calming
down panicked kids.
I met Edward this way. Edward was a first-year camper who was still
learning how to swim and far from comfortable enough to get on a boat. It’s a
crapshoot on whether a camper like this will hate the water or love it. It’s impossible
to tell; some people just don’t enjoy it. Edward wasn’t one of those people. On his
first trip, he sat next to me as I talked to him about his home and his goals for the
summer. Edward looked like he had been on boats his entire life. He was talkative
and wanted to explore the boat, crawling in and out of the companionway - the
cabin under the deck on most keelboats - and up onto the bow. When I let him steer
the boat, I could tell he was hooked. As Edward became a regular on my early
morning boat rides, we became friends. I would check up on him during meals and
he would run over and talk to me if he ever saw me around camp. Edward became
one of my favorite younger campers and someone I was proud to see so comfortable
on the water.
Edward’s favorite spot on my boat was lying on his stomach across the
companionway. He enjoyed holding on to the railings as the boat keeled over and
acting like he was flying across the water like Superman. He would meet me on the
pier every morning and wait as I brought the boat around to prepare it for the day.
Always the first one on the boat, Edward made sure to claim his favorite spot on the
boat, and I became so comfortable with him sitting there that he would be the only
younger camper I would allow to sit there because he was the only one I trusted. I

36. normally wouldn’t let a camper lay across like Edward would in fear that he would
fall off the boat. He was the only camper in line for my first morning cruise on a day
when the wind was whipping at almost twenty knots. I helped him onto the boat and
let him play around with the radio to find some music that he liked while we waited
for more campers to arrive. On cue, an Assistant Head counselor named James,
whose job it was to take homesick or troubled campers from activity to activity
walked down the pier and saw Edward and me chatting on a nearly empty boat.
“Have room for six more?” he asked, knowing the answer. “Bring ‘em on.” I got up
and began to check out the campers as James helped them on the boat. James
worked on Paddle Sports before being promoted to an Assistant Head and admitted
to me, “I have no idea how to sail…” I told him that it was fine and that as long as he
could control the campers from running and jumping all over the boat, everything
would be all right.
On a typical cruise, I sail from the pier for about five minutes, tack around,
and sail back to dock. This short run was so I could make time for multiple runs if
needed and reduce the number of times I would tack; the boom swinging overhead
would sometimes scare younger campers so I would try to tack as infrequently as
possible. Also, the kids loved to steer the boat, so I would let them steer it straight by
pointing to a landmark across the river and telling them to keep the tiller still. We
sailed our usual five minutes out, then I tacked around to return to the pier. Nothing
out of the ordinary. The kids were talking, having a good time, and Edward was
laughing in his usual spot, but his head was on the leeward side, so due to the keel of

37. the boat, his head was closer to the water than his feet. I didn’t think a thing of it
since I was so used to him being up on the companionway.
The next thing I knew, I felt the boat take a strong dip leeward and I
immediately pointed up and eased the mainsheet, focused on evening out the keel,
when I saw Edward take an almost perfect face-first dive straight into the choppy
river. A gust of wind tilted the boat over violently, causing Edward, who wasn’t
holding on at the time, to slide off the boat. Edward was terrified. A panicked seven-
year-old boy screamed like his life depended on it as I began the man-overboard
procedure that I had practiced and taught hundreds of times. I gave James the order
to radio the man-overboard in to the pier so that a safety boat would help steer
other boats from running over Edward and then to calm the campers down so that I
could safely proceed. “Need any help?” James offered, but cockiness clouded my
mind as I declined. “No, just keep the kids calm and seated,” a hyper-focused self
declined. I tossed in a floatable to Edward as I sailed three boat lengths away to
begin my approach. Every time I practiced or taught the procedure, the man
overboard was a floatable seat. Floatable seats can’t panic. They can’t yell or be
scared. Nothing can simulate the terror of watching the horror in a child’s face in the
water. He does not know the man-overboard procedure. He does not know that I am
supposed to sail away before tacking around in the shape of a figure eight. Edward
saw me leaving and thought I was ditching him, so he panicked. I knew I could get
him, though. I tacked around and began my approach, but the wind was playing tug-
of-war with the sheets and me, and it was winning. I could not keep the sheets tight
enough to gain enough speed to approach Edward windward and finally came to a

38. stop about ten yards leeward of the panicking child. Unable to reach Edward with
my extended hook, I tried to encourage him: “I’m coming back around, stay calm!”
But he only got worse. Edward started yelling for help even louder as he thrashed
his arms desperately, searching for something to grab on to. He was safe, wearing a
lifejacket, but that didn’t enter my clouded mind at the time.
I saw Edward, a kid whom I developed a tight relationship with, more scared
than I had ever seen another kid before. A strange instinctual wave of emotion and
guilt crashed over me. I made my decision. “James, can you keep the boat straight?” I
asked. “Uhh….sure?” he replied, questioning my motives. I pointed the boat straight
into the wind so that it would not go anywhere and gave the tiller to my colleague.
“Here, keep it pointed this way and don’t let it sail anywhere,” I ordered. “I’m going
in for him.” “What?!” yelled an astonished James as he watched me dive into the
river and swim to Edward. I finally got to Edward and grabbed hold of him, looking
him in the eyes to tell him that it was going to be ok. Edward wiped away tears and I
could see his trust in me was still there as he calmed down. As we floated in the
river, I turned to see my boat in full sail, tearing towards the pier. James lost control
of the boat and was clueless about how to steer it into the wind. The terror of what I
had done hit me. I was helpless watching six children and one of our two keelboats
on a collision course with the pier. A collision would not only destroy one of our
most important boats, but more importantly it would hurt those six kids. I screamed
at James to point the boat into the wind, yet I knew he couldn’t hear me. Suddenly,
the Motorboating chief, Steve, pulled up on a Parker next to Edward and me. I
helped him lift Edward onto the boat and pull myself in. Steve raced us to my boat as

39. it approached a football field’s distance from colliding with the pier. I grabbed the
side of my boat and lifted myself in with enough time to regain control and calmed
down the campers, who also had also begun to panic after I ditched the boat. We
safely docked at the pier, and James and I helped each camper off the boat.
Once the boat was safely docked and the campers were off the boat, I sat
everyone down and explained the events that just happened. I explained that a gust
of wind keeled the boat over uncontrollably and the surprise caused Edward to slide
off the boat. Concerned that this experience would scar these kids into never sailing
again, I made that same group promise to go sailing with me the next day so that
they wouldn’t end their sailing experience on a bad note. They all agreed and I let
them carry on with their day. Edward, soaking wet, hung back with me and we
walked back to his cabin where he changed and then played basketball with me to
help get his mind off the trauma that just occurred. Edward seemed to be over it, but
I wasn’t. I asked if he could ever forgive me, thinking he would need a while to
process the events of that day. “Yeah, of course I forgive you,” he answered, giving
me a hug. I think he could see that I was furious with myself for putting other people
in danger, and he wanted to let me know everything was ok.
I have always been my toughest critic. There was no one harder on me after
Edward’s accident than I was. I beat myself up for not only letting him fall off the
boat in the first place, but also because that day was a harsh reminder that I wasn’t
as cool and collected as I thought I would be in an emergency. I always thought I
would be James Bond-like in case of an emergency. Turns out, I let instincts and
emotions get in the way of clear thinking and my training. Turns out, Edward’s

40. accident became one of the most important learning experiences of my life so far. It
added much needed humility and taught me to slow down and trust my training. I
needed this experience to make me a better person. I have not had an accident like
Edward’s happen since, but I have to expect one will happen and I am hoping the
experience will guide me to a better result. But, I thought the same thing before
Edward. So who really knows how I will react? That is part of the beauty of life. You
can always control your reaction and the mistakes you make are valuable learning
experiences. Nelson Mandela once said, “I never lose. I win or I learn.” From my
experience with Edward, I learned to remember my training and take a deep, calm
breath and to think before I act. A plan of action will more likely result positively
than simply jumping in, as I learned both metaphorically and literally that faithful
day on the Neuse River.

41. Refection on the Semester
Now that you have emerged with me from the rough waters and complex path of my
life, you can probably tell I had quite a few difficulties writing these essays. With
each of these topics, “Place,” “Time,” “Travel,” “Science,” and “Personal,” I wanted to
give the audience an upbeat, light read that makes the audience and me feel warm
and positive. For some reason, I simply could not. I struggled to formulate a story
about a place that had enough substance to be worth the reader’s time, but all I
could think about was my shortcomings. I did not want to bash my hometown…
nobody wants that. Luckily, I (hopefully) will not have the following that Mrs.
Kristen Green has for her book, Something Must Be Done About Prince Edward
County, because I feel my opinions on Pinehurst would garner a similar negative
reaction from the locals there. But I just had to get my feelings about my hometown
off my chest. I never truly fit in there. My two best friends lived an hour away in
Greensboro, North Carolina and I would visit them on weekends as much as
possible. There was always something off about the small, cozy golf resort where I
lived, but it’s hard to tell the people who brought you there that you hated it.
Another major difficulty I had when writing was trying not to be cliché when
writing about my adventure to Barcelona. I felt that I had a very average trip. I did
have a much different experience than most people because I went alone, but it has
yet to really hit me if any of my experiences altered my life in any way other than
what I wrote about in “Time to Wake Up.” I am really anxious to read this piece in
ten or twenty years to see if my view on the trip has changed at all or if I have

42. discovered any change in myself that was a result of the trip. I am itching to return
to Barcelona and have many other locations on my list to travel to as well. As
average as the trip was, it was worth ever cent and was one of the more challenging
and enjoyable experiences of my life.
While these essays presented many challenges, I actually enjoyed myself
writing them and working with Dr. Frye on developing these stories. The finished
product of Pinehurst: The Anti-Community turned out completely different than how
I originally intended. Dr. Frye worked with me to deeply analyze the root of the
issue at hand. Thanks to his help, I was not only to create a better story for the
reader, but also I was able to understand my hometown on a more perplexing level
and divert some of my anger towards the village to sympathy. I now understand
why these people are so bitter and privatized and I can use my knowledge to help
rather than to demean.
Perhaps my favorite essay to write was Sailing Is Courage. I am not a science-
oriented guy by any means, but I am by far the most passionate about this topic. I
treated this essay like I would treat one of my beginner sailing classes. The
organization and information of the piece came so naturally to me since I have
taught classes containing the same material hundreds of times before. Sailing is a
major passion of mine and I was excited to be able to share my knowledge with the
class and my readers. I had a similar experience writing the story about Edward and
his man-overboard. Although the incident was a traumatic experience in my life, it
was one of the most valuable learning experiences I will ever have. I learned more
about myself in that five to ten minute span than I have anywhere else.

43. This semester forced me to open up in ways that I could not have anticipated
at the beginning of the class. I have analyzed what I know about myself, what I
thought I knew, and learned to sympathize rather than hate. I have navigated rough
waters with you and have docked at a new port scratched and bruised, but a better
man. There will be many more ports to sail to and countless storms and squalls to
conquer. Yet, I sail on with full sails and a clear path because of what I have learned
and overcome.