Ashore, my driving skills supplied endless material for family jokes, and since some things never change, my skills at the helm now fit that bill. So, I knew the family grapevine would blaze like an out of control wildfire when pictures hit their computer screens of our 53-foot Catana catamaran, Esprit de Tizza, parked in the sand at a resort in Panama.

Eighty feet off the water, I hugged the mast.  Below, my husband, John, smiled knowingly, twirling the 5/8 inch line on which my life depended. The mast was inviting me to overcome my fears, re-define my capabilities, and grow outside of my comfort zone when acknowledging the life of my family might depend on it.

Celebrating the freedom of cruising life, anchor watch duties found me shedding inhibition along with a few clothes while gyrating jubilantly from helm to helm until misfortune sent me sprawling across the cockpit and grappling for an explanation of my duties to the Captain.

Sailing, as we all know, can make us feel free, no matter the size or model of boat.  In San Diego's Oceanside Marina, six senior sailors exemplify this liberation.  Their sleek, graceful boats ripple the marina's reflection as they jockey for position during the regatta start, but it's their contagious enthusiasm that draws me down the dock to meet them.