Way back in our college days (about 35 years ago), when I was hanging out with Evan and his roommate, Steve, we'd have all kinds of dating adventures that included hiking, rappelling, back yard outdoor toga-party movie nights, and sailing in Steve's little Flying Dutchman sailboat. Evan has wanted a sailboat of his own and finally found one a couple of years ago.
Jordan came up to spend a Saturday afternoon with his Dad at the lake. They worked on the boat together, getting it ready. The winds were perfect, the day could not have been any prettier. They were unaware that I had come to the lake a little later just to snap some pictures of their maiden voyage. I watched as they zipped back and forth across the lake.
See that little teeny sail against that gorgeous backdrop? Then the sail disappeared! Wha? Yep. The wind was so great, and apparently, while they practiced racing around a buoy, they capsized! I freaked out on the shore, thinking - oh, no! I'm going to have to call for help, get the coast guard or someone! I'm watching through the camera lens to see what was going on... a few minutes went by, then all of a sudden, boop! That little teeny sail popped up out of the water! They made it! YAY!! I screamed and jumped up and down on the shore, miles away. People looked at me strangely, but oh, well. At least I got a pretty picture.