Finding Tim
A Fourth Alternate Reality

 by: Charlie

© 2005-2010

 

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Episode 143

Sailing 

 

Tim and I are sitting in a sort of back parlor of Dakota house, looking at a picture on the wall.  It shows an E-boat racing along in a stiff wind.  If you look carefully you can see the dock at Camp White Elk in the background.  The sailboat is heeled over so that much of the bottom of the hull is shown in the picture.  An E-boat is a 28 foot lake sailer with an very flat hull, a long, thin, almost square design, and rigged as a sloop with a mainsail and jib.  It was created by the Johnson Boat Works of White Bear Lake, Minnesota, very early in the 20^th century.  It was designed for the relatively calm waters of inland lakes.  The design has been an incredibly successful lake racer for over a century.  Along with its sister boats designed by Johnson (the C-boat at 20' with no jib, and the A-boat at 38'), it’s designed to ride heeled over at about a 25 degree angle, so that a minimum of hull drags in the water.  Instead of a centerboard it has two bilge boards, one on each side.  As the boat heels one bilge board rises out of the water and is usually retracted by the crew.  In this picture the high side bilge boat is still extended.  On that bilge boat stands a sailor in a sort of cowabunga pose.  He faces toward the bow of the boat with his left hand raised in a fist.  He stands on his left foot with his right foot high behind him.  His right hand holds a tiller extension so that he can steer.  He controls the sail with the main sheet between his teeth.  The boat should have a crew of three, but he sails alone.  It is Auggie at age ten, sailing the boat solo in wind that would challenge experienced sailors two and three times his age, running with a crew of three!

 

Auggie gave us this framed copy of the photo years after it was taken.  By then he was almost a sailing legend in the lakes of Wisconsin, Minnesota, and New York.

 

Auggie learned to sail that first summer at Camp White Elk when he was eight years old.  Not only did he learn to sail, he fell in love with sailing.  If you’d asked him that winter what he wanted to be when he grew up, he would’ve said, “A sailor.”  He would’ve been wrong, but only slightly.

 

Auggie returned to Camp White Elk for the whole season the next three summers, when he was ages 9, 10, and 11.  In the spring of 1993, when he was age 11, going on 12 in June, he asked his parents if there was some way he could spend the summer either in Madison or Minneapolis sailing on the lakes and participating in the races both the cities were famous for on their lakes in the summer.  Sid had an artist buddy in Madison, Rich Barrow by name, and he called Rich about Auggie.  Rich invited the Madisons to come down to Madison for a weekend and talk about possibilities for the summer.

 

Rich was startled to learn that Auggie would only be twelve that summer, and would be entering high school in the fall.  However, Auggie carried himself as if he were sixteen at least, and no one talking to him would know his age without asking.  Rich suggested that they visit the Mendota Sailing Club, which had a clubhouse on Lake Mendota near downtown Madison.  Rich had had the commission to paint a portrait of the last two commodores of the club, and he was able to give the Madisons an introduction to the current commodore.

 

They met Commodore Wilson at the clubhouse the next day, Sunday, and spent an interesting morning with him.  The club had a fleet of C- and E-boats, and one A-boat, and they raced every Saturday and Sunday, weather permitting, from Memorial Day through Labor Day.  The boats were available for qualified members to sail during the week.  Racing crews were put together and assigned boats by the racing committee.  Individual members that owned boats put their own crews together for the races.  Auggie was a little young to skipper a boat, but was welcome to try out as crew.  If accepted, he would be invited to join the club.  The initiation fee was $2,000 and annual membership was $1,200 per year if you wanted use of the boats.  For many those fees were steep, but Sid simply smiled.  The bigger issue was where Auggie would live during the summer.  His mother was willing to come to Madison to live with him, but he really was eager to be on his own.  Commodore Wilson had taken an immediate liking to the precocious and likable Auggie and suggested that Auggie might live at the clubhouse.  They had four dockboys during the summer who cared for the fleet in exchange for room at the clubhouse.  The boys’ main goal was to be able to sail, so the schedule was designed to permit that.  Since no money changed hands, the boys were not legally employed, so that legal restrictions on age wouldn’t apply.  At twelve Auggie could legally be alone in the housing, as long as his parents signed the housing agreement on his behalf.  Wilson ended with, “Of course, all this is predicated on Auggie being a good enough sailor to crew on the boats.”

 

Auggie had just smiled and said, “I’m very confident you’ll like my sailing.  May I come back as soon as you have boats in the water and prove myself?”

 

“Yes, Auggie, you may.  I’m anxious to see a young man with your confidence and poise sail an E-boat.”

 

A month later, in late April, Auggie got a call from Commodore Wilson.  “Auggie, we launched our first E-boat for the season this afternoon.  Would you like to come down and sail it with me?”

 

“Oh, my goodness, yes,” said Auggie.  “Can I come down tomorrow?”

 

“Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

 

“School isn’t half as important as sailing with you, Commodore.  May I come tomorrow?  I think I could catch the Empire Builder tonight and be in Madison tomorrow morning.  I could spend the night with Mr. Barrow and get the train back home the following late afternoon.  That would give me an afternoon and a morning to sail with you.”

 

“My goodness, Auggie, that would be quite an adventure for a boy your age.  Would your parents permit that?”

 

“I’m sure they would.  Dad’s home, why don’t I get him on the line?”

 

“Yes, please do, Auggie.”

 

Auggie got Sid, explaining the conversation to him as they walked to the telephone.  Sid came on the line and said, “Commodore Wilson, how nice of you to call Auggie.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Madison....”

 

“Call me Sid, please.”

 

“Sid, I did call Auggie to tell him that we now have an E-boat in the water and I’d like a chance to sail with him.  He’s talking about coming down on the train tonight.  That startled me a little.”

 

“He told me as I was coming to the telephone.  It sounds like a good idea to me, but we’ll have to check with Rich Barrow, and we’ll have to see if we can get a sleeper on the train.  Can we call you back?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Sid was used to this sort of thing.  Auggie had, in fact, taken train trips alone before–though this was going to be the furthest he had traveled alone.  Rich Barrow was willing to have a house guest, and all was settled.  Commodore Wilson agreed to meet the train in the morning, and Auggie was off.

 

He had a bedroom to himself on the train, and a very attentive Pullman porter looking after him–arranged by his father.  The train came through Grand Forks at night, so Auggie went right to bed and was awakened in the morning in time to have breakfast in the diner and get off in Madison.  He was met by Commodore Wilson who took him to the clubhouse. 

 

Wilson asked Auggie how much experience he’d had sailing E-boats, and Auggie told him that Camp While Elk in Michigan had an E, and that he frequently skippered it.  Think of my picture, it was taken two years before, and Auggie had been skippering the E-boat solo.  He had the good sense not to mention that to Wilson.  They were joined by a young man from the club who was a student at the University of Wisconsin.  The three of them would be the crew for an afternoon sail on Lake Mendota.  It was chilly, and they all got into wet suits to keep warm.  It really wasn’t yet sailing weather.

 

They cast off with Auggie handling the jib, the young man, Freddie, handling the bilge boards and back stays (two steel  cables that run from near the top of the mast to points on each side of the hull about halfway back from the mast which have to be tightened on the upwind side to hold the mast upright, and loosened on the downwind side to allow the mainsail and boom that holds the bottom of the mainsail, to swing free), and Wilson at the helm, handling the tiller and mainsail.  There was a good wind and the boat skimmed along over the water like a speedboat.  Clearly Auggie could handle the jib and he and Freddie changed places.  Auggie proved quick and adept at handling his tasks at the stays and bilge boards.  With some trepidation, because there was a substantial wind, Wilson invited Auggie to take the helm. 

Auggie slid into the helm position, took the tiller and main sheet in hand, and easily took command of the boat.  He tightened the sheet, came close to the wind, and encouraged the boat to heel over a little more, thus increasing  the speed–and, of course, the possibility of capsizing.  Auggie never registered that idea, but clearly Wilson did.  But he kept his mouth shut and watched Auggie sail.

 

Auggie was a master.  He understood the delicate balance between sailing with the boat heeling too high or too low, both of which made the boat move inefficiently.  He knew just how close to the wind he could efficiently sail.  He was alert for squalls that could endanger the boat.  Wilson slowly relaxed and just enjoyed watching Auggie sail.  They headed far upwind, tacking back and forth as efficiently as possible.  When they were ready to come about and head back to the clubhouse on a straight downwind run Auggie asked, “Do we have the spinnaker aboard.”

 

Freddie spoke up, “It’s in the sail bag.”

 

“Do you know how to rig it?”

 

“I’ve never used it.”

 

Wilson said, “Can you rig it, Auggie?”

 

“Yes, I can,” said Auggie, with assurance.

 

Wilson said, “I’ll take the helm, you and Freddie rig the spinnaker.”

 

The spinnaker is a big ballooning sail that’s used to catch more wind on a downwind run.  It can dramatically increase the speed of the boat, but getting it up and down is a skill.  Auggie easily showed Freddie how they would rig the spinnaker with its control lines that attach the big bulbous sail out in front of the boat, raise the big sail, and fly the spinnaker.  Freddie was a good sailor and got the hang of it quickly, and soon the spinnaker was up, Freddie and Wilson were holding it in trim, and Auggie was back at the helm, having the time of his life.   Flying a chute, slang for spinnaker, is truly a thrill and requires close coordination between all crew members. It's a real team building experience.

 

They headed home toward the clubhouse, dropping the spinnaker in time to have it stowed before they were ready to dock.  The wind was at a difficult angle for landing, but Auggie breezed in turning at just the right moment to approach the dock into the wind and stop just inches from the dock.  Freddie was sitting on the bow ready to use his feet, if necessary, to keep the boat from ramming the dock.  His only task, however, was to calmly fasten the painter.  Freddie turned, looked at Auggie, who looked like he hadn’t done anything more difficult than park a bicycle, and said, “My God, I don’t think I’ve ever seen that perfect a landing.”

 

Commodore Wilson seemed equally impressed.

 

Wilson and his wife took both of them to dinner.  At dinner Wilson said, “Auggie, that was very impressive sailing this afternoon.”

 

Freddie said, “That wasn’t impressive, it was bloody fantastic, and we both know it.  I think Auggie does, too.”

 

Wilson said, “Auggie, how would you like to take three members of the membership committee for a sail tomorrow morning?”

 

“Can I scare them, or do I have to be conservative?”

 

“They’re all top sailors; I don’t think you can scare them.  Push the envelope a little, but don’t screw up, understand?”

 

Freddie said, “I’ll answer for him.  He never screws up.”

 

Auggie said, “Yes, I do and I have.  But I’ll be sure not to tomorrow.”

 

The next day was a beautiful sailing day.  It was about ten degrees warmer than the day before, with perhaps an even stiffer wind.  There were a few clouds in the sky, but there was more sun than cloud.  Commodore Wilson picked up Auggie at Rich’s house and drove him to the clubhouse.  There he met the membership committee, three grizzled old sailors that looked like they had a millennium of experience between them.  Auggie, ever the audacious one said, “I see that they put the A-boat in the water yesterday.  Is it ready to sail?”

 

One of the committee members said, “I think you ought to prove yourself with the E before you think about the A.  Have you ever sailed an A-boat?”

 

“No, I’ve never had the chance.  But it’s just a bigger version of the E.  I hear that they really move, and today’s wind is a perfect day to sail an A-boat.”

 

Commodore Wilson didn’t know what to say.  He had come to like the little kid who seemed to be able to do anything, and wanted him to be accepted by this committee.  And he was absolutely sure that Auggie wouldn’t be able to convince the committee on his first run in an A-boat.  He said, “Auggie, I can’t believe that sailing the A is the best way to convince these gentlemen that you’re a top sailor.”

 

Auggie said, “I’d really love to sail the A.  I’m willing to chance it.”

 

Wilson said, “Auggie, when I said push the envelope a little, this isn’t what I had in mind.”

 

Another of the committee, clearly fed up with the audacity of the little kid standing in front of him said, “Let’s let him sail the A.  The worst he can do is capsize it.  It’s happened before.”  It seemed clear that that was exactly his expectation.

 

Auggie, ever polite, turned to Wilson and said, “May I?  It’d be a wonderful experience.  But if you think I shouldn’t, that’s OK.”

 

Wilson wasn’t going to stop him; he’d given Auggie fair warning.  He said, “OK, Auggie.”

 

The A-boat, or A-scow, is the largest of the lake sailers, at 38 feet.  It normally requires a crew of six or seven, and uses a mainsail, jib, and asymmetrical spinnaker that can be used sailing at almost any angle down wind of directly abeam.  Wilson continued, “You’ll need a crew of five plus yourself.  I’m sure Freddie’d love to join us this morning, I’ll call him.”

 

Freddie was at the dock in less than fifteen minutes.  Meanwhile, Auggie and his crew of one commodore and three membership committeemen were getting the A-boat ready to sail.  Except for being towed from the launch site to it’s mooring yesterday, this would be it’s maiden voyage of the year.  Auggie was all over the boat, exploring all of its rigging, and figuring out all of the differences between it and its cousin, the E-boat with which he was intimately familiar.  Commodore Wilson watched him, but said nothing.  He figured it was up to Auggie to ask questions, not for him to give advice.  Auggie asked nothing.  When Freddie appeared and took his place at the port backstay, Auggie called out, “Cast off,” and they were sailing.  The boat drifted downwind from the dock, and as soon as it was clear, Auggie pushed the tiller over and the boat caught the wind.  The power of the wind on the main sheet, even with the pulley system that gave the power edge to the helmsman, almost pulled Auggie out of the boat–he hadn’t expected that much jerk.  But he held on, got control, and sailed the boat away from the dock and out into the lake.  He headed as close into the wind as he could, thus moving the boat as slowly as possible while he took stock of its capability.  He knew that in a strong wind it could do more than 35 miles an hour–enough to water ski behind, but he wasn’t ready for that–yet.

 

He spent about a half an hour slowly tacking upwind before he began to explore the real capability of the boat.  He got exactly abeam of the wind and pushed the boat to heel up, pushing it much further than optimum for speed, but running high was considered a challenge in sailing, except when racing.  Auggie was soon scaring his crew he had it up so high.  Everyone knew that he was pushing it so far that a sudden gust of wind could tip the boat.  But Auggie was a master at reading the wind, and he always backed the boat off before any squall hit.  Then he brought the boat down to its best angle–about 25 degrees, and pushed for speed, slowly continuing his upwind tacks.

 

Eventually he had about a mile and three-quarter downwind run back to the dock, and he ordered the spinnaker set.  This time he had an experienced crew, and he didn’t have to be involved in rigging the spinnaker.  It’s a good thing too, because it’s enough different from the E that he probably would’ve screwed it up!

 

When the crew had the spinnaker rigged and they were ready, he called "Raise the spinnaker.”  The wind grabbed the big sail and off they went, fast as the wind.  Auggie was having the time of his life.  He’d never sailed a boat like this and had only dreamed that he might one day.  He had no thought that this was a test to see if he qualified for membership in the Mendota Sailing Club.  It never occurred to him that he might not qualify.  Today was just a day to experience the sail of his life, with a talented crew, a wonderful wind, and the best sailboat he’d ever been in, much less skippered.

 

They came in toward the dock, dropped the spinnaker and Auggie turned the boat upwind once again.  This time he pretended to race to a pretend buoy about a mile upwind.  Auggie was a master at planning his tacks, and he had the big boat up at his pretend buoy in pretend record time.  All of his crew were impressed at his ability to move the boat upwind so deftly.  Then he did a series of jibes and tricky maneuvers designed to test the crew and boat.  Wilson asked, “Auggie, who’s testing whom here?”

 

Just then a mighty gust of wind hit the boat and everyone aboard, except Auggie, thought they were going over.  Auggie had seen it coming and was ready, but had kept the boat high out of the water on purpose–in order to come as close to capsizing as possible without actually doing it.  As they edged upwind to level the boat Wilson asked, “Did you plan that?”

 

Auggie smiled and said, “I try to plan everything.”

 

Auggie realized that he had no hope of docking a strange boat without a lot of practice, so he set to practicing docking the boat at imaginary docks about a half mile offshore.  When he felt he had the feel of it, he headed for the club dock, cut behind the dock and headed into the wind toward the dock.  The boat stopped its upwind movement about 16 inches short of the dock, easily enabling Freddie to step on the dock and snap the clip on the painter to the ring on the dock.  Freddie said, “I’d give anything to land an E-boat that well, and you probably think it was a rotten landing.”

 

Auggie replied, “My heart was in my hands as I came in.  Docking an unfamiliar boat is the hardest thing I’ve had to do today.  That I got you on the dock without crashing is almost a miracle.  I don’t think it was a rotten landing, I think it was great–and lucky.”

 

The committeeman that had been somewhat hostile to Auggie when they started now said, “Young man, I haven’t had a sail like that in years.  I’ll crew for you any day.”

 

Another said, “Welcome to the Club.”  And the first chapter of the legend of Auggie had been written.

 

Auggie returned to Madison as soon as school was out.  He would be a dock boy, crew member for club skippers as invited, and allowed to sail the club boats as they were available and he had time.

 

There were three other dock boys, all UW students that were glad for a place to live for the summer and an opportunity to sail when they could.  It was rare, but not unprecedented, that a dock boy was also a club member.  It gave Auggie much greater access to the club boats than the other dock boys, who had to defer to club members for boat assignment.  Since Auggie was a club member, if he had time to sail, he lined up with the other members for choice of boat.  Furthermore, after his sail with the commodore and the membership committee he was certified to captain both the E-boats and the A-boat.  None of the other dock boys had the A-boat certification, so on the A-boat they could only be crew.  In fact, very few club members were certified to captain the A-boat, so Auggie could take it out pretty much as he chose.  He quickly learned that a crew of four or five could easily handle it, and he and his fellow dock boys, often accompanied by Freddie, sailed most afternoons from about 1:30 to 3:30 when there was usually no need for their services.  They needed to be in by 3:30 to see to securing the fleet for the night.

 

As long as Auggie was the captain of record, any of the crew could take the helm–that was how you got experience to seek certification as a captain.  They all took turns at the helm, and by the end of the summer all four of the dock boys were certified to captain an A-boat. 

 

It turned out that one of the membership committeemen, Ace Mendenhall, was the top A-boat skipper in the club.  There were six A-boats on the lake, and they raced almost every Sunday.  Ace almost always invited Auggie, and often one or two other dock boys, to be on his racing crew (of six) each Sunday.  No boat or skipper consistently won the races, but Ace won his share.  One Sunday in late July, Ace invited Auggie to be the helmsman for the race.  Ace would handle the spinnaker with Freddie.  The first buoy was a very tight close haul of a little over a mile.  Some captains chose to tack, but Auggie kept the boat close to the wind with a delicacy that suggested that he’d been doing this for years.  They rounded the buoy a full three minutes before the second place boat–that of the Madison Sailing Club.  This was followed by a run abeam of the wind, a run that would test the skipper’s balancing how high to keep the boat out of the water.  Again Auggie seemed at one with the boat and he left the others further behind.  The next leg was another close haul, but this time tacking was required, and Auggie was able to display his skill at planning tacks.  The final leg was almost straight downwind, and Ace and Freddie were able to display their skill at rigging and controlling the spinnaker.  They did as good a job as Auggie.  The Mendota Sailing Club boat, captained by Ace but with Auggie at the helm, had led on all four legs of the race and had come in further ahead of the second boat than anybody could remember happening for years.  Auggie took it all in stride, but was told by Ace that next Sunday he, Auggie, would be captain.

 

Chapter two in the legend of Auggie had been written.

 

Yes, he won again the next Sunday, but that was it for the year.  Auggie wouldn’t miss the final session at Camp White Elk when all of the COGs would be attending as a group.  When he got back to Grand Forks after camp I asked him if sailing the little boats at camp wasn’t a come down after Lake Mandota.

 

“Oh, no, Charlie.  I like sailing anything, and the little Xes are different and fun to sail.  But I’m usually in teaching mode at camp, and some of the kids I’ve taught to sail are getting to be pretty good sailors.”

 

The next summer, with Auggie now just barely a teenager, Auggie returned to Madison, again trading being a dock boy for a place to live.  The club ran a sailing camp during the month of July, teaching older teenagers to crew for E-boats.  The better sailors got experience as helmsmen and crewing on the A-boat.  About a week into the camp one of the instructors was taken very ill and had to resign.

 

Commodore Wilson faced a serious problem: he had to replace his instructor very quickly and Auggie was an obvious choice.  But can you use a thirteen year old as the instructor for older teenagers?  He was afraid that it simply wouldn’t work.  However, Ace, the club’s top skipper, was convinced that Auggie could do the job.  So Wilson gathered the 14 boys and 3 girls of the camp together and shared his problem with them.  “Look here.  Auggie Madison is a top skipper and is available to replace Van Gehring, who had to leave because of illness.  But he’s thirteen years old.  There are plenty of adults around, but Auggie would be one of only two instructors.  Are you all going to be comfortable with that?”

 

Several of the older boys grumbled about the idea of being taught by some little shit of a thirteen year old.  But one of the girls said, “I’ve heard of Auggie.  My uncle’s raced against him.  My uncle says he’s the best sailor on the lake.  I’ll bet we could learn a lot from him.”  A couple of the boys then recognized Auggie’s name, and they soon agreed that they’d like to have Auggie as an instructor.

 

Commodore Wilson talked to Auggie that night, explaining the situation (which Auggie was already aware of) and describing the meeting with the campers.  Auggie said, I’d love to do it, but it’s a paid position and you could never get a work permit for a thirteen year old to take that job.  However, I’d be quite willing to just shift my dock boy duties to sailing instruction instead of care of boats and my status here wouldn’t change.”

 

Wilson was tickled pink.  He had his instructor.

 

Auggie knew the camp was made up of kids that were really anxious to be good sailors and had the talent to become good sailors.  Most owned small sailboats and were in the camp to get experience handling the bigger boats which they didn’t have at home.  It was really more of a class than a camp, because they lived at home and came down to the clubhouse after breakfast, staying through lunch and dinner which were provided in the clubhouse.

 

Auggie told Wilson,  “This is the second year I’ve been watching this camp.  They only use E-boats, except for the last week when some of the best sailors crew on the A.  But the A would hold half the class, and an instructor could be much more efficient teaching on the A.  If they can crew on an A, the transition to the E is a piece of cake.”

 

Wilson was entirely too smart to quash the first idea of his new instructor.  So the next morning half the class sailed with Auggie on the A-boat and the other half was with him in the afternoon.  They spent the alternate time with Vince, the other instructor, on E-boats.  The minute that Auggie had told the group that they’d all be sailing with him on the A-boat any problem of his acceptance by the group was overcome.  He spent the first hour with each group essentially showing off the capability of the boat, and incidentally his own capabilities as a sailor.  Amazingly, considering their relative ages, he won them over very quickly.  Anybody that sailed with Auggie recognized a master sailor, and these boys knew right away that he could teach them a lot.  They became model pupils.

 

While the stated goal of the camp was to make the campers qualified crew members on larger boats, Auggie goal was to make them qualified skippers of the larger boats.  As they sailed, especially on the A-boat, he worked carefully with the camper at the helm.  Of course, while this was going on the rest were involved with crew duties, and he made sure that they mastered them.  But for interested sailors, learning crew duties wasn’t difficult.  Mastering the helm was another matter, and that’s where Auggie put his effort.

 

It paid off.  Auggie had the authority in the club to sign off on crew certification for both E-boats and A-boats, but not for skipper certification.  At the end of camp he gladly certified all of them to crew on an E-boat, and he certified 15 of the 17 to crew on an A-boat.  He then invited the campers he thought could qualify as a skipper to seek certification from the club’s qualifications committee.  He recommended that to 13 of the campers for the E-boat and 7 for the A-boat.  All of those sought certification and all received it, including the first female of any age to qualify as a skipper of the A-boat in the Mendota Sailing Club! 

 

Chapter three in the legend of Auggie had now been written.

 

The end of the summer was again spent at Camp White Elk, happily enjoying the company of the COGs.  However, he decided to visit Madison over Labor Day weekend, specifically to talk to Commodore Wilson.  Auggie loved to ride the train, so once again he went down on the Empire Builder.  Wilson met him at the train and was greeted with “Hi, Commodore, thanks for picking me up.”

 

“Auggie, stop calling me Commodore.  Call me Harv.”

 

“Sorry, Commodore, I like calling you Commodore.  You’re a commodore, why not use the title?”

 

“I give up, Auggie.  I guess I should call you Captain.”

 

“You can, but then you’d have to call all the captains, Captain.  There’s only one commodore.”

 

“Auggie, what’s so important that you wanted to come down to Madison to talk to me about it?”

 

“With seven new A-boat skippers we need another A-boat.  Besides, ours is wood and the fastest sailers are now fiberglass.”

 

“Do you have any idea what an A-boat would cost?

 

“Well, yes, I do.  We can get a new one from the Johnson Boat Works, fiberglass, sails–all three, and a carrying trailer, for just under $100,000.”

 

“And just exactly where do you think the Mendota Sailing Club is going to get that kind of money?”

 

“A big fundraising auction.”

 

“Auggie, I’ve known you too long not to know that you have this all worked out.  It sounds preposterous, but tell me what you have in mind.”

 

“We’ll get things donated and have a big auction, just before Thanksgiving.  My dad will contribute a couple of paintings.  We’ll offer some day sails with Ace or me skippering the A.  Other people will contribute things.  Solicit the boat related businesses in Madison.  We can put together a good collection of items.  The club is influential enough that a lot of people will show up, if only to be seen.  That’ll give us critical mass to get good prices for the goods.  With Sid’s art, we can get some art collector types from Chicago.”

 

“And who is going to put this all together?”

 

“You and I.  I’ll work on the item list from Grand Forks.  You handle invitations from here, except Dad and I’ll handle Chicago invitations.  The clubhouse is big enough, you just need to arrange very nice refreshments and good wine.”

 

“Are we going to charge admission?  It is a fundraiser.”

 

“No, no.  You don’t let people off the hook with a $100 ticket.  You want them to spend $1,000 to buy something.”

 

“My God, you really think big.”

 

“I try.  Well, what do you think?  Shall we go for an A-boat?”

 

“What the Hell?”

 

What Auggie didn’t know at the time is that this was going to be a turning point in his life!  As he put together the list of things to sell his dad told him that it was likely true that the hottest item he had to sell was himself.  Sid said, “So, how do we sell Auggie?”

 

“I’m offering a day sail for a group.”

 

“That’s nice, but it won’t bring much money.  Auggie, I’ve seen a number of the photographs that you’ve taken of sailboats.  Let’s get into the darkroom and produce some really nice, large, high quality prints of about ten of those pictures.  We’ll have them framed nicely.  They’ll sell.  And I’ll tell you something else that’ll sell–a framed print of your favorite picture of you sailing on the bilge board of the Camp White Elk E-boat.”

 

The auction was the Saturday before Thanksgiving.  They’d anticipated about 200 people, but they had standing room only at 380.  They ran out of refreshments before the auction started, but they did have plenty of wine!  Auggie was the auctioneer, and he proved to be a great raconteur as well as auctioneer.  He had a lot of wonderful stories of his adventures as a pre-teen in the world of old sailors!  The auction started with various boat accessories, clothing, and other things donated by local merchants, and members of the club.  A day sail for six on the A-boat with Ace as captain sold for the most to that point at $1,100.  Then the first Sid Madison painting–a picture of the Chicago skyline–sold for approximately the going price of a Sid Madison painting–$12,400.  That got people thinking.  A day sail with Auggie went for $1,200.  Auggie had hurried that sale rather than press for top dollar, because he didn’t want to drive it up a lot higher than Ace’s sail. Then Auggie auctioned a commission for Sid to paint a picture of your boat.  The painting would be done the next spring when boats were back in the water.  It went for $16,000 and the collective jaws of the folks from Madison dropped.  Then they put up the first of Auggie’s photographs: $3,400.  They sold all ten in a row for a total of $36,000.  Auggie was staggered, but more of that later.  Then another Sid Madison painting, this one of a boat on Lake Mendota: $14,900.  Then it was time to sell the picture of Auggie on the bilge board–the last item of the evening.

 

It only takes two eager buyers to make an auction.  In this case there were four–two members of the Mendota Sailing Club that sailed with Auggie from time to time, and two men from Chicago, one a photography collector and one an art gallery owner–a gallery that featured photographs as well as paintings.

 

This was a print; granted the original negative was controlled by Camp White Elk and prints were restricted.  But we aren’t talking about original art here.  Almost in an instant the price of the photo was at $15,000 and none of the four competitors seemed willing to back down.  At $20,000 Auggie suggested that he could arrange for three additional prints, and all four could have them for $15,000 each.  Sold!  In one bang of the gavel they had $60,000, over half the price of the A-boat!

 

Add it up, the sales totaled just under $150,000–enough to buy the new A-boat, and purchase needed new sails for much of the E-boat fleet.  Quite a bit of the art and photos were purchased by dealers who expected to double their money, which, in fact, they did at sales over the next two years!

 

But the most important thing about the evening is that Auggie found his career.  He would be a professional photographer, specializing in boats.  Today an Auggie Madison photograph, with reproduction rights, sells for just about the same as his father’s oil paintings!  And he likes to point out that no matter how fast a painter his father is, he can’t paint a painting in the 1/100th of a second that it takes Auggie to click his camera!

 

At age thirteen Auggie had a long way to go before he could command that kind of money for his photographs.  However, not long after the auction, his father had put him in touch with Andre Stilson to talk about selling his photographs.  At this point Auggie didn’t have much to sell, and couldn’t add new boat photographs until the next summer.  However, he was able to find three that he felt were worthy of sale.  Stilson recommended that, unlike most photographers, he sell the negative and the rights to the photograph, retaining only the right to include the photo in gallery and museum displays, in various media where the print quality wouldn’t permit further copies of display quality, and in any book or portfolio in which the picture would be just one of a collection.  The buyer would have the right to sell additional prints.  Most photographers avoided this kind of arrangement, fearing that a secondary market would develop that would undermine sales of their new photographs.  Stilson argued that the opposite was true.  This arrangement would generate more cash for Auggie up front, and a secondary market, no matter how large, could only enhance his prestige as a photographer and increase the price of his new photographs.  Over the years Stilson proved to be right.

 

The next summer, 1995, Auggie was fourteen and ready to be a junior in high school.  The first event of the summer was picking up the new A-boat and launching it on Lake Mendota.  There’d been great debate about the name for the new boat.  Auggie would simply not accept the suggestion that  it be named the Auggie.  Finally, someone came up with the idea of calling it the Maddie, short for Madison.  Old sailors in the bar could, and did, argue all night over whether it was named for the city of Madison or Auggie Madison, and the club was very careful to never declare which!

 

Two events occurred that summer that shaped Auggie almost as much as his choice of career.  The first was a decision by the club, encouraged by Auggie, to take their two A-boats, and their best skippers (Ace and Auggie) and crews to the Fourth of July races at Lake Geneva.

 

Lake Geneva was in the southeast of the state, about an hour and a half from Madison.  It was the summer playground of the monied class in Chicago and the home of some of the best lake sailing anywhere.  While the sailors from Madison were excellent sailors, and several of the Madison clubs had competed at Lake Geneva over the years, they’d generally been outclassed by the top sailors from Lake Geneva.  Auggie had argued that it didn’t make a bit of difference whether they won any races, they needed the experience of racing against the best.  That argument carried the day, aided by the fact that they now had a new, faster, A-boat to race with.

 

Auggie and Ace argued over who should sail the new boat.  Auggie told Ace that as the senior captain he should sail the new boat.  Ace told Auggie that since he had raised the money to buy it, he would sail it.  Ace also insisted that Auggie was the captain most likely to beat the “stuck up Lake Geneva bastards” and he should have the faster boat.  “Besides,” he said, “there’s nothing I’d like to see more than the commodore of the Lake Geneva Yacht Club having to hand over their big silver traveling trophy to a fourteen year old kid from Madison.  My God would that be a thrill!”  Perhaps you’ve detected a certain dislike of the Lake Geneva crowd?

 

Auggie grinned at that image, assured Ace that it wouldn’t happen, at least not this year, but agreed to sail the new boat.  Auggie’s crew consisted of Freddie, Harv Wilson, two of the skippers Auggie had trained the previous summer, and one of the old salts that hung around the Mendota Sailing Club and was a master of just about every task on every boat.  They were a motley crew and when they showed up to register the boat at Lake Geneva the registrar looked them over, nodded toward Auggie, and said to Harv Wilson, “Isn’t he a little young to be on a racing crew?”

 

With great delight, Wilson replied, “He may be a little young to be on the crew, but he’s the skipper.”  They were almost laughed out of the clubhouse, but they stood their ground, registered boat and crew, and returned to their boat more determined than ever to “show the sons of bitches a thing or two.”

 

A good skipper can gain a good competitive edge in a race with a good start.  Sailboats don’t start from a stopped position, but cross the starting line going as fast as they can.  Boats can sail around the starting line as they wish for about ten or fifteen minutes prior to the race, getting time signals from flags or a horn from the official boat that marks one end of the starting line.  Crossing the line in this period is permitted, but it doesn’t count as the start of the race.  A boat must cross the line after the starting horn.  If you’re two seconds early, you must continue across the line, come about and come up behind the line, and cross it again after the horn.  Timing is everything.  If you’re early, going around again is incredibly costly in time.  If you’re late, other boats will get a head start on you.  Auggie, the master of reading the wind and having a feel for his boat was a master at race starts.  He was also gutsy as Hell.  If he crossed the starting line more than 3 to 5 seconds after the horn he was kicking himself the whole way across.  Yes, every now and then he was a second or two early, and that often meant that he’d lose the race.  But Auggie always went for the gold, and this, his first big race anywhere but Lake Mendota, was no exception.

 

He maneuvered the Maddie toward the starting line and was sailing at a very fast clip to cross it.  Harv Wilson was watching his watch and was sure that they’d be a few seconds early, a very embarrassing start for the young captain in his first big race!  Harv said, “Let the sail out, Auggie, you’re going too fast.”  Harv almost panicked as Auggie held his course, but he decided to hold his tongue.  The skipper was the skipper, and Harv had signed on as crew, even if he was the commodore.  With about ten feet to go to the line, which the boat would cover in fewer seconds than were left on the starting clock, a squall hit them and slowed the boat dramatically for just the time left till the horn. 

 

Auggie grinned at Harv as they crossed the line with the horn still ringing in their ears and said, “While you were watching your watch I was tracking that squall.  Still I was lucky.  I think it was my best start ever, and this is the perfect race for it to have happened in–luck or not.”

 

Harv just grinned, watched the master, and thought to himself how lucky he’d been to have had the good sense to accept this kid as a member of the club at age 12.

 

The second leg of the race was a long upwind reach that would require a number of tacks.  All of the boats, except the Maddie and one other chose an easterly first tack.  Auggie headed west.  The others generally chose short tacks which kept them closer to a straight upwind route.  Auggie sailed wide to the west.  Then the wind unexpectedly shifted so that it was coming out of  the west.  At least the shift was unexpected by all of the other captains, who now found themselves facing a difficult upwind battle to complete that leg of the race.  Auggie, on the other hand, now was able to sail the second half of the leg with the wind abeam and the boat making excellent speed.  While the other skippers were cursing Auggie’s good luck, Harv was asking Auggie how he did it.  Auggie replied, “I’ve been watching the clouds.  The upper atmosphere winds were from the west, and the cloud formations suggested that we’d soon see those winds come lower and dominate the lake.  So I headed west.  If the winds hadn’t done what they did, I would’ve still been about even with the others, having lost only a little with the longer western tack.  I had a lot more to gain than to lose.”

 

They now had a downwind leg and Auggie’s crew set the spinnaker with speed and agility.  They weren’t faster than the other boats, but neither were any of the other boats faster than they, and they held their lead till the last leg.  That leg, with the wind change, would be a broad reach that would test the skill of all the skippers.  It meant continuing to run with the spinnaker, and balancing the heeling of the boat to get maximum speed.  No one performed that balancing act better than Auggie.  His crew handled the jib and the spinnaker superbly, and the five, including Auggie, on the high side followed his lead in shifting their weight to control the heel of the boat in perfect synchronism.

 

The little kid and his crew crossed the line three minutes ahead of the second boat.  Ace was third, having been the only other boat to choose the westward tack on the second leg.  He told Harv, “When I saw Auggie head west I followed, I’m no dummy.  The rest of the skippers I’m sure were laughing at the stupid kid from Madison who didn’t know how to plan his tacks.  I’ll admit it; I thought he was crazy.  But I’ve learned he’s crazy like a fox, and I followed.  How the Hell did he know the wind was going to change?  Is he psychic?”

 

The fourth chapter of the legend of Auggie was now written, and it had now spread into sailing circles far beyond Madison.  There were a lot of sailors in Lake Geneva that were very unhappy to see their big silver trophy head to Madison to reside at the Mendota Sailing Club for the next year!

 

Back in Madison Auggie led a wonderful life.  He was still a dock boy, but was forgiven a lot of the work to further his skippering.  He taught a master skipper class for five students for three weeks.  It was an opportunity for a selected five A-boat skippers to sail all day with Auggie, five days a week for three weeks.  During that time Auggie shared everything he knew about sailing, and watched them sail.  He never gave specific directions; he simply talked to himself about what he would do next.  It was a teaching style that never put anybody down, and which was very popular with his students.  The only student from the Mendota Sailing Club was Freddie, whom Auggie accepted at no charge for all the service that he’d rendered to Auggie over three summers.  The other students were from Madison, except for one Chicagoan, and they paid a hefty fee to the Mendota Sailing Club to take the course.  Auggie was still unsalaried, but enjoyed living at the club for free.  Being able to live at the club was actually more important to Auggie than its being free.

 

One afternoon Auggie was walking along University Bay, the bay of the lake near the main campus of the University of Wisconsin.  An attractive girl, probably a university student, was sitting on a bench looking out over the lake.  Auggie had noticed her a couple of times before, and this time he asked if she minded if he sat on the bench.  She looked at the young boy and two thoughts went through her mind simultaneously.  “He’s a little kid, certainly harmless,” and, “This is one sexy little kid.”  With the first thought in mind she replied, “It’s a public bench.”  Her smile derived from the second thought and suggested a much warmer invitation than her words.  Auggie, an astute observer noticed the smile and sat down.

 

Conversation ensued: the weather, the boats on the lake, how nice a town Madison was, that she was an art major in her senior year, that he lived in Grand Forks in the winter and Madison in the summer.  “What brings you from Grand Forks to Madison?”

 

“Sailing.  No lakes in North Dakota.”

 

“Where do you sail?”

 

“At the Mendota Sailing Club.  Do you know what a dock boy is?”

 

“They trade minding the docks for room, board, and sailing, right?”

 

“Exactly.  So that’s where I live in the summer.”

 

“You seem a little young to be on your own there.  Are your parents here, or are they back in Grand Forks?”

 

“Grand Forks.”

 

“How did you get involved here from Grand Forks.”

 

“This is my third summer.  I came because this is where the good sailing is.”

 

“My name’s Lynn, Lynn Hall.  What’s yours?”

 

“Auggie.  Auggie Madison.  Glad to meet you Lynn.”

 

“Auggie?  Are you that Auggie?  My God, you are.  You’re the Magician.”

 

“What do you mean, the Magician?”

 

“My brother is a skipper at the Madison Sailing Club.  He talks about the little kid, Auggie the Magician.  You step aboard a boat and like magic it gets up and flies.  He beat you once this summer and it was the proudest day of his sailing career.  Then you invited Ted, that’s his name, and all his crew to dinner at the club.  He said he’d never seen a happier loser.”

 

“Hey, sailing is sailing.  It doesn’t really matter who wins; the point is to have a good sail.”

 

“Ted isn’t going to believe I met you.”

 

“Why don’t we go to dinner somewhere?  I’d hate the idea that I’d bought your brother dinner and not you.”

 

“You have a pretty good line, Auggie.  I’d love to go to dinner.  Where shall we go?”

 

“How about Mader’s in Milwaukee, providing you can drive?  I don’t have my license yet.”

 

“You don’t do things half way, do you?  We aren’t exactly dressed for it.”

 

“I’ll walk you to your apartment and then go back to the club and change.  You can pick me up about six and we’ll be at Mader’s by 7:30.  I’ll call for a reservation.  You do like German food, don’t you?”

 

“Sure, and the evening sounds lovely.”

 

It was.  Lynn was 21 but soon forgot that she was dating (it was obviously a date) a young teen.  Auggie moved through the world like he was in complete control, and in many ways he was.  A brief interchange with the head waiter got them a premium table and superb service.  Much to her surprise Auggie was extraordinarily knowledgeable about art and artists.  It wasn’t long before he gave away that he knew several of the top artists in Chicago.  With that she tumbled that not only was she dating the Magician, she was dating the son of Sid Madison!  “Auggie, when my brother and his friends talked about the Magician, I had no idea that you were Sid Madison’s son.  That’s incredible.”

 

“Why?  Can’t art and sailing mix?”

 

“They can, but they usually don’t.”

 

“Would you like to meet my dad the next time he visits me in Madison?”

 

“I’d love to.”

 

“Well, I’ll be glad to arrange it.  You know, I’d like to see a lot more of you, but I’d hate to think that you were dating me so that you could meet my father.”

 

“You aren’t serious about that are you?  Regardless of your father, you’re one of the most interesting men I’ve ever met, much less dated.  I guess this is a date, right?”

 

“It is.  Lunch tomorrow will be as well, if you’ll join me.  I picture a sailing picnic, instead of a German restaurant.”

 

“That sounds wonderful.”

 

“Come to the club about noon.  I’ll be looking for you.”

 

The next day went as well as the dinner in Milwaukee and led to a whole lot of lunches, movies, sails, dinners, and trips.  However, Auggie’s favorite date was to come by the university art studio where Lynn painted and just sit and watch her paint.  At first she was very self-conscious, but soon got used to him and grew to like having him there.  He never commented on her work unless asked, but she quickly realized that he was a good critic and began to ask for his comments.  He’d learned well from Tim: his comments were always positive, but gently made a little suggestion for improvement.  Lynn felt she was growing both as an artist and as a woman with her relationship with Auggie.

 

Lynn claims that one of her favorite moments of the summer was when she first brought Auggie home to meet her family.  She had a little student apartment near campus, but often went to her folks’ house for dinner.  One day she called her mother and asked if she could bring “a guy she’d dated a few times” home for dinner.  Always eager to meet boys her daughter was dating, Lynn’s mother quickly arranged for the next evening’s meal.  Lynn told her mother, “Be sure Ted is there, too.  He’ll want to meet my date.”

 

Lynn picked up Auggie at the club and they drove to her house in the west end of town.  They walked up to the door and were greeted by Lynn’s parents, with introductions all around.  Neither the name Auggie, nor Madison, meant anything to her folks, and Auggie was accepted as just another young man–even if he did appear to be very young.  In the kitchen her mother said to Lynn, “I assume that Auggie is at the university, but he seems very young.”

 

“He’s fourteen, and goes to high school in Grand Forks, North Dakota, where his father is on the faculty of the University of North Dakota.  He’s been sailing here the past three summers.”

 

“My daughter is dating a boy barely in his teens.”

 

“Yep.  And, as you’ll see, he’s quite a guy.”

 

At that moment they heard a sort of yell from the living room, as Ted discovered that his nemesis, Auggie the Magician, was his sister’s dinner date.  “You’re Auggie Madison, the Mendota Sailing Club skipper.  You’re dating Lynn?”

 

“You would be Ted.  I’m delighted to meet you away from the water where we’re competitors.  It’ll be fun to get to know you.”

 

Lynn walked in, and Ted said to her, “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating Auggie Madison?”

 

“I wanted to see your reaction here.  Believe me, it was worth it.”

 

Despite their being competitors, Auggie and Ted got along well.  It hadn’t hurt that Ted had once beaten Auggie, and thus been his dinner guest at the club.  By the time the evening was over everyone had forgotten that their dinner guest was a teenager, and they’d been won over completely by the bright, mature, young man who so obviously was gracious, kind and respectful to their daughter and sister.

 

Not long after that Sid and Cathy visited in Madison and met Lynn and her family.  They liked Lynn as much as Auggie did, and amazed her by being totally unperturbed by his falling in love with a girl six years older than he!  Sid sketched her in several different poses, and not long after she got a framed portrait of herself in oil delivered by UPS.  When she told her art teacher that she was now the owner of an original Sid Madison oil he only reluctantly believed her!

 

Sid and Cathy’s observations were right on the mark:  Auggie was, pure and simply, falling in love.  Since his annual August departure for Camp White Elk approached, he decided it was time to have a pretty serious conversation with Lynn.  So, with a week to go before he left town until the next summer, he told Lynn that he wanted to have an important and serious conversation with her.  Would she suggest a venue for it to take place?  Perhaps on a sail, a return trip to Mader’s, or just in a quiet corner of the club lounge?

 

Lynn had an idea of what was afoot and suggested they take out an E-boat for an evening sail.  If you weren’t in a heavy wind or a race, two competent sailors could easily handle an E, so off they went.  “Auggie, what’s on your mind?”

 

“Love and sex.”

 

“Well, that puts it pretty bluntly, but I’d expect that from you.  I’ve never seen you shy away from any subject.  This is your conversation, lead on.”

 

“It’s very simple.  I think I’m falling in love with you.  Oh, Hell.  I have fallen in love with you.  In a normal world that would lead to either sex and marriage or marriage and sex, depending on your personal attitude about those things.  But we don’t live in a normal world.  I just turned 14 in June and you’re 21.  I’ll be a high school junior and you’ll be a college senior.  For us to have sex would be illegal, and marriage would be widely frowned upon, and illegal depending on which state we were in.  So where does that leave us?”

 

“Perhaps having this conversation two years too soon.”

 

“Maybe, but I don’t think so.  If we can’t be completely honest with each other, we should give the whole thing up.”

 

“OK, then.  It’s my turn to be honest.  Auggie, if it weren’t for your age I would’ve fallen head over heels in love with you on our first date.  No, that’s not right.  I think I did fall head over heels in love with you on that first date, but I put the whole idea out of my mind, because of our ages.  No, that’s not right either.  I’ve tried to put the idea out of my mind, but I haven’t succeeded.  Then a few minutes ago you put those sentiments into words, and I....  I’m not sure of the right words, but I sure know the feelings I’m experiencing.”

 

“Then it’s time to talk.”

 

“No, it isn’t, Auggie.  It’s time for this.”  She took the tiller out of his hand and pushed it away so that the boat luffed up into the wind.  She pulled him up to the wide bow deck, pushed him down on his back, threw herself on top of him and kissed him.  Auggie was ready and eager, and the two of them locked lips and tongues for a wonderful, prolonged kiss.  To be honest, their hands roamed over parts of the anatomy that, considering their ages, should’ve been off limits. 

 

They were finally interrupted by the boat coming about and the sail catching the wind.  Auggie said, “Let’s drop the sails so that we won’t be disturbed.”  With the sails down they let themselves go.  Hands kept getting into places they shouldn’t, and Auggie pulled them back from the precipice they were approaching.  “I would love to go there, and it seems that you would as well.  It’d be so easy to say, ‘Just this once,’ but we know that wouldn’t be true.  If we let things go, we’re putting you at a legal risk that could destroy our relationship and easily our lives.”

 

“As much as I hate to admit it, Auggie, you’re right.  But where does that leave us?”

 

“Well, since I’m going to be living in North Dakota and you in Wisconsin, I don’t think there’s going to be a serious problem until next summer.  We’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it.  However, we do need to talk about the winter.  If this was a year from now, I’d propose to you, and hope that we might be talking about a wedding right after I finish high school, in another year.  As it is, graduation, and the magic age sixteen when we can get married, is two years away.  “

 

”Whoa, slow down, Auggie.  We aren’t ready to talk about marriage.”

 

“Why not.  We both admit we’re in love.  Marriage is the obvious thing to talk about if you’re in love.  But, honestly, we need to talk about sex first.”

 

“Sex?”

 

“Yes.  Sex.  This may sound very forward or pushy, but we haven’t talked much about sex and we have no idea of each other’s sexual history.  I think I know almost everything else about you, but we haven’t explored the subject of sex.”

 

“This is embarrassing.”

 

“Why on earth?  Sex is a normal part of life.  However, I’ll start if you’re embarrassed.”

 

“Go ahead.  I wouldn’t expect too long of a sexual history from a fourteen year old, but I realized a long time ago that you weren’t your average fourteen year old.”

 

“It has to start with the Gang.”

 

“I’ve heard you mention the Gang from time to time, but I haven’t really paid much attention.  I just sort of assumed that you were talking about a group of friends back in Grand Forks.”

 

It was almost a hour later when Auggie finished his story of the Gang.  He figured that if he was seriously in love with Lynn, she needed to know all about the Gang.  Her reaction was about as he expected, and certainly as he had hoped.  “That’s the most incredible story.  I can’t believe how lucky you were to have been raised in that atmosphere.  I am so jealous.”

 

“As for my personal sexual history, it’s very simple.  I’ve played around with a number of the COGs near my age–boys and girls.  Sometimes three or four of us.  Fucking is off limits, nothing else is.  There isn’t much we haven’t tried.”

 

“It’s difficult to ask this, Auggie, but what about this summer?”

 

“Why should that be difficult?  We have to be honest with each other, and you should always assume that I don’t do things that I wouldn’t be willing to tell you about.  This summer I’ve had to take care of my own needs.  I masturbate most nights, and certainly after I’ve had a date with you.”

 

“Did I read something into the way you said, ‘This summer”?

 

“Yes.  Last summer one of the dock boys was gay.  We slept together from time to time.  I think he would’ve liked to have had more of a relationship, but at age 13 I wasn’t ready.  He was only 16, so I didn’t see any adult-child issues, but I wasn’t ready for anything more than what we did.”

 

“Just what did you do, if I can be so bold as to ask?”

 

“We gave each other blow jobs.  He would’ve liked to fuck me, but I told him that was further than I was willing to go.”

 

“Did he accept that?”

 

“He didn’t have any choice, but he had the good sense to never press the issue.  We did try 69, but found we preferred to give each other blow jobs.”

 

“But you’re not gay?”

 

“I’m a little gay and a lot straight.  And I’m in love with you.”

 

“If we got married, would your gayness go away?”

 

“I hope not.  Remember my story of the Gang.  They all accept the idea that sex is fun and healthy.  If you can deal with it, I would hope that we would not necessarily limit our sexuality to each other.  Maybe it’s time for you to share a little of your sexual history.  Are you a virgin?”

 

“Well, that puts it straight out there on the table, doesn’t it?”

 

“The question doesn’t, but the answer would.”

 

“The answer is no.”

 

“Was it a high school event, or college?”

 

“College.  This past year.”

 

“A guy you thought you might be in love with, or sex for the fun of it?”

 

“Neither, really.  I wasn’t in love with Johnny, but I really wanted to experience being fucked.  I didn’t have any idea when I’d fall in love, and I thought it was an experience I should have.”

 

“Now the key question.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Did you tell Johnny that before you let him fuck you?”

 

“Honesty is really important to you, isn’t it, Auggie?  You aren’t phased by the fact that I let Johnny fuck me, nor that we might not have been in love.  But if I’d led him on in order to get him to fuck me, that would really upset you, wouldn’t it?”

 

“Yes, it would.”

 

“Well, I didn’t.  It was very clear that Johnny wanted to get into my pants and that it was for sex and not love.  He didn’t pretend otherwise.  I told him straight out that it would be a new experience for me and I’d like to experience it.  He was a good fuck.  He said I was.  I really didn’t have anyone to compare him to.  He did, and he still said I was a good fuck.”

 

“Was there an encore?”

 

“Yes, several times.  But it wasn’t a relationship that was going to last, and he moved on.  There were no hard feelings, but we haven’t remained friends.”

 

“It there more to your history?  What about high school?”

 

“Several boys tried to score–that was the word back then.  One boy got my skirt up and my panties down and finger-fucked me.  It was on a class picnic, and we easily got away in the woods.”

 

“What did you do to him?”

 

“It was funny.  I told him that I’d give him a hand job, but that he had to get naked.  He was too embarrassed to take his clothes off.”

 

Auggie said, “I’m not,” and he calmed stripped off his tee shirt, shorts and Jockeys.  Amazingly, he was flaccid.

 

“Auggie, I thought we weren’t going there.”

 

“Looking isn’t touching.”

 

Lynn wasn’t as uninhibited as Auggie, but her clothes did come off.  Auggie said, “You’re beautiful.  I’ll treasure this memory for the next year or so.  Then I’ll trade it in on the real thing.  But we’d better get our clothes back on.”

 

“Oh, no.  You have a lovely dick.  But if we’re in the business of looking, I want to see it hard.”

 

“I should tell you to squeeze it, but I guess that would be crossing the line.”  Auggie took hold of his own dick and massaged it a little.  It quickly rose like a little soldier and saluted.

 

“Thanks,” said Lynn, and they both got their clothes back on.

 

Lynn asked, “So I gather what you’re saying, Auggie, is that we think we’re in love, we’ll see what happens as we go our separate ways this winter, and we’ll know more next summer.  In the meantime, we’re going to be chaste.”

 

“I’m not, so I can’t expect you to be.”

 

“Kiss, me Auggie.”

 

It was another passionate kiss, with naughty hands.

 

They had several more evening sails before Auggie left for Michigan.  Unlike the previous two summers, Auggie returned to Madison for the Labor Day weekend.  He joined Lynn’s family for Thanksgiving and she visited Grand Forks between Christmas and New Year’s.  It had been quite a year for Auggie Madison!

 

To be continued...

 

Posted: 12/03/10