Sailing in Karachi

How to spend your weekend - and weekdays, for that matter - if you are adventuriously challanged? Or even if you are a couch potato or just plain lazy.

This is a question that creeps up in many a Karachiite's mind every so often, only to be quickly suppressed again. After all, what options do we have? One can eat only so many burgers and strip the flesh from only so many chicken. Well, not in the case of Omar, whose epitite is legendary.

Ok. The rest of us.

Karachi is not the most fun of cities. The beach is far away and once a year is enough of an ordeal. The only other option is to have burgers at ... Uh, I already mentioned that, didn't I?

I was pulled out of my couch where I had been watching a movie by SO & AO and taken to the Marina Club last weekend and told to get in a decidedly flimsy little boat. Now, I am as firm on staying on terra firma as the next guy but decided that Mother Nature is no match for a wrathful SO, so knuckled under and decided to go look for my sea-legs.

The Marina Club started of as a place to park those big cruisers and the club was normally deserted. Things have changed recently with the Club and the members having added a multitude of sailboats of all sizes.

So much to learn: port, starboard, keel, aft and that wooden thing that I never learned the name of. Anything loose in a boat has no business being there, I say.

Anyway, here I was, bobbing along, trying not to capsize and praying every time I could catch my breath. The last was a bit difficult as the mast kept hitting my head. There is something basically wrong with the design of all things nautical: That pesky mast. It has a mind of its own and always swings north no matter which way the wind is blowing from, except if you happen to be facing east. Then it swings east. And hits you on the head.

By and by, we cast off and raised sail to begin our junket. (Did you notice the cute way that I slipped those marine terms in?) Once away from the quay, or maybe port (the place you launch the boats from) we turned around (boom goes the mast on the head) and headed out to sea. Ok, ok, not out to sea, but up the channel at least. Once around the Golf Club is a good 10-minute run. Yeah, yeah, it actually seems much longer than it sounds. Various buildings on the way form a wind-check causing for interesting navigation opportunities; at least for a land-lubber like me. Pass the point and tack into the wind (no, I am not going to explain that. Suffice it to say that that's the point where the mast does its trick again) and race back to the parking area. That's where all the boats are parked. They have a fancy name for that as well, but never mind.

Once back at the quay or berth, I took a minute out for the shakes, lying on the ground while AO rerigged the boat for one more go.

The second time was more hectic as AO wanted to go faster and I did that neat-o thing that I had previously seen only on TV: Grab a rope, tuck your feet under the straps and lean way out in the air to balance the boat. That part is fun until the wind changes; then you have to dash back into the boat, or, in my case, slip and get a new set of bruises on my... uh, dive under the sail and do the leaning trick on the other side.

Time for a break. Back to the Marina and round off the sailor-ship experience by ordering a Coke & biscuits.

AO pulled the boat out and took it apart. He's going to add a few more ropes this week.

What? Yes, I decided that I did indeed have fun (or didn't want to face the wrath of ...) and am going again next weekend.

Now, if I can only find a way to stop that dratted mast...