My granddad, Retired Rear Admiral Ted Eshom, bought the sailing sloop the Sindbad, when I was in my early teens. Although Granddad had spent much of his life in the Navy and had owned various sailboats as a hobby and a passion for many years, this was to be my first opportunity to join his seafaring adventures.  “The Admiral”, as many called him, had hoped to share his love of sailing with his grandsons, but alas they were not interested in that kind of adventure. Nor did they have the tolerance for crusty old Granddad’s stern military ways.  I, on the other hand, though only a “girl” in Granddad’s eyes, had a great yearning for adventure no matter what the price!

My mother, his daughter, finally convinced him to take me aboard.  I worked very hard to please him, learn the knots and sailing terms and “swab the deck” according to his strict specifications.  Sailing thrilled me!  I stood on the bowsprit with the wind in my face, “riding a wild horse” as we sliced swiftly and silently through the green sea, the wind filling the sails. I looked back with love at my granddad at the helm, grinning until his eyes were mere slits and whistling happily through his teeth. I knew we shared a bond. Both our hearts filled with the same joy—no words were needed.

When he first bought the Sindbad, he moored it at the Seattle Yacht Club and we took day trips around Puget Sound. (The Sindbad was a two masted wooden schooner, built in about 1926. It was about 40 feet long and had two cabins, fore and aft.) Later Granddad moved the boat out to Edmonds to have more room for adventures further afield.

One especially memorable trip with him occurred when I was about 15 years old and he allowed me to bring a school-friend with me.  It was summertime and we took several days to sail up Hood Canal and back, dropping anchor in many interesting places. One particularly beautiful evening, after lowering the anchor in a little bay, my tough old Granddad actually dove repeatedly for oysters in that icy water! Brrrrrr…I sure wouldn’t get in that water. But later we had oyster stew.

Another evening we dropped anchor in another bay where I sailed the little dinghy around, gleefully scaring my teenage girlfriend to screams. It was very windy and a summer storm was obviously coming in fast. I sailed as close to wind as possible with the dinghy leaning way over and the sea just starting to trickle into the little boat. I remember my grandfather standing on the deck of the Sindbad, yelling at me, “Get back here now!” and me pretending that I didn’t hear him. The adventure was worth the scolding I got.

Later, as we were on our way home, it was another cold, rainy and windless day in Puget Sound.  We towed the small dinghy behind as we motored along. Unfortunately, I had left the removable mast in the upright position after my previous day’s activities and the big waves flipped the little boat. My granddad barked at me with authority, “Jump Robin, right the dinghy!” Not being overly fond of freezing water, especially on a cold day, I hesitated. Granddad gave me that “look” and I jump obediently, though shuddering and screaming.

Yet some of my fondest memories of my teenage years were times spent on the Sindbad. I loved standing on the bowsprit with the full spinnaker sail billowing out next to me, drinking the wind. I would grin uncontrollably, holding tight as the ship rose and plunged through the mighty deep blue waves, occasionally spraying me with a cold refreshing mist.  Then too I think of lying in my bunk on a warm summer evening with the smells of diesel and sea mixing pleasantly, listening to the “slap, slap” of the little waves on the hull and the “creak, creak” as the boat danced around her anchor. The evening sun poured through the portholes in changing patterns as the boat gently turned.  I cherish the memories of singing sea shanties and old folk songs, like “Abdul Abulbul Amir” with my grandfather. And best of all, of my grandfather’s approving smile when I took the helm and sailed well, both of us sharing the same joy and satisfaction in harnessing the wind.

I have occasionally gotten the wonderful opportunity to sail since then, as an adult, and it always brings back to my mind those first times.  But never have I sailed on another boat as full of history and as memorable as the adventures with my Granddad on the great Sindbad,