| Gene was a careful, excellent sailor and I trusted him completely on the water. Time on the TIME OUT was surprisingly relaxed. Gene seemed less tense, less critical. Sometimes he even let me take the tiller. I remained wary and alert, but nothing happened. The TIME OUT appeared to be a war-free zone. I even got to eat.
And the ocean -- a more intimate, more ardent, more steadfast lover than even the wildest ski trail -- caressed, healed, soothed. At any moment, I could ask Gene to set anchor and jump right in, dive down, float back up, lie naked on my back pillowed by the entire Atlantic, look up at the sun and sigh, "Aah." |
