Greetings from dry ground

It took a full four hours on dry ground to recover from sailing, and I still felt sort of… rubbery, as if the memory of that fateful trip is held fast in every muscle. And, to send my guts a-quiver again, The Natalie News: My niece and her boyfriend Stefan have been spending the summer working at his parents’ boutique winery. I had assumed they were kept busy – it is prime tourist season, after all - but apparently they’ve had enough time to plan the building of an arboreal room where they plan to stay “for a while”. Inspired by the woman who lived in a tree to protest logging, these two have no apparent agenda in playing tree house, other than (I’m guessing) to spy on tourists. They’ve chosen a majestic oak outside the tasting room and received permission from Stefan’s laissez-faire parents. Well, I hope they behave themselves and not turn it into a party platform. Poor tree!

Work at Red House continues to challenge and delight. It’s never boring, but I sometimes wish there was less of it to accomplish during a day. I’m still in partial panic stage, finishing up the last details on fall product lines. I wish that determining quantity was an exact science, and a particular zipper-pull order is currently keeping me awake. I often second-guess myself – did I choose the right shade of blue? Is the button placket long enough? Do I like the grosgrain trim? That’s the downside to being a perfectionist. I am so protective of my brand that I am hesitant to delegate more – and Kerin wants to do more! My clients know that I believe in what I sell. I am an evangelist for Red House and will do whatever I can to keep customers coming back for more. The brand is also deeply committed to the wine country lifestyle and I find myself thinking of ways to stay in that mindset while constantly flying all over the globe. Yet I see the light at the end of the tunnel of overwork and the possibility of a late summer getaway with Michael and the kids (anywhere but the usual NY and China!). Maybe even a Napa “staycation”. The last thing I feel like doing right now is drawing up another to-do list but if the list is all wineries, then I’m all over it!

Sea of Pain, Part III

Once we were actually sailing, I started to feel even greener about the gills. The crew cheerfully mentioned that the currents in the bay are deceptively strong. You’d never know it looking at the surface of the water. I glanced over at Alcatraz, known as “The Rock.” I get it now - why wouldn’t all those escaping prisoners think they couldn’t swim for it? From their cells, they could smell the chocolate from the Ghirardelli Factory. How hard could it be to get there? Well, most of their bodies were never even found. I suppose some of the hardier inmates did eventually taste chocolate again. None of this mattered to me as I was thinking about it, because as much as I love the stuff myself, the thought of chocolate caused my stomach to lurch. Buck up, I told myself!

Was anyone else suffering? Not as far as I could see - everyone seemed to be laughing and drinking. And eating. Ugh, food – uh-oh!…….A moment of reckoning that would soon turn into retching! I knew it was time to act quickly to avoid humiliation. But where did the crew say the facilities were?! Why hadn’t I paid attention? Suddenly, I found myself puking the full 127’ length of the deck! (I had remembered the distance!) Gross! Near the bow, maybe, I just sort of sat myself down, and for a brief moment I thought I felt better. I looked up to see the underside of the Golden Gate Bridge. Cool! And then began heaving again. Michael finally came to my aid (he’d been chatting up a golf buddy) accompanied by the Second Mate. Presumably, the other hands on deck were pushing mops by now. They escorted me down to the bunks and made me eat Dramamine. Not soon enough, I fell asleep in a quasi-coma of shame, desperately hoping no one thought I over-drank and over-ate! And I was fearful that I might have caused the carefully applied varnish to disintegrate, thereby shortening the life of the historic ship. The Second Mate said not to worry. There was some consolation in hearing him say that I wasn’t the first to christen this ship with stomach contents. Some crew members (though not he) had suffered similarly. Some learned in this way that they weren’t cut out for seafaring. I can cross another career off my to-do list! So that was it. No rogue waves. No shark attacks. I was done in by a little pitching and a lot of puking. I missed out on awesome food, wine and potential business, but if the next event is on dry ground, look out!

Sea of Pain, Part II

I decided to postpone my forays to the buffet and bar as there would be plenty of time for that later. I wanted to network with the attendees before I got too distracted by the views and picture-taking.

Soon, the other “sailors” had arrived and we left port. The skipper and mates introduced themselves and told us the history of the ship, which was built in Maine and launched in 1924 - that much I remember. Then the skipper started talking about riggings and using charts for navigation and learning to avoid hazards. Did he mean pirates? No, but he did mention that one of the tall ships was used as the HMS Interceptor in the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. Wow! The kids would love hearing that. He also said that pirates are still a threat (on the high seas – not San Francisco Bay) and that there was nothing in modern piracy that would in any way be reminiscent of the fun tricorn hats, Colonial apparel, parrots and peg legs of the Disney trilogy. So the movies were wrong!

Each of us was then assigned to a sailing station, from manning the helm (Michael) to hoisting the sail (me). Knowing a thing or two about fabric, I could see that this was some seriously heavy canvas. Hmmm. I guess the work had to be done, and it was a chance to further interact with fellow business owners. Ok, I was in. Would you believe it takes ten people to hoist the main sail? However, on this trip they had to make do with nine. That’s because I started to feel…funny. Sort of dizzy. I was sure it would pass - I just wasn’t used to hard labor. The Second Mate got me some water and I sat down and tried to enjoy watching the unfurling. It really was impressive. But my excitement about the trip was interrupted by the growing realization that all was not right in the vicinity of my stomach. I could handle this, of course. In no time I’d have my sea legs and be swilling fine wine and singing sea shanties. I would not only make important business contacts to benefit Red House in the years to come, but I would relive The Age of Sail!

Sea of Pain, Part I

Presented with the opportunity to join a group of business owners for a meet-and-greet on a sailing ship in the San Francisco Bay, what could I say but YES!!! And this would be no basic boat that we’d be going on but a 53’ wooden schooner that has spent its long life working the west coast. I can’t remember the ship’s name, Fortune Teller? Soothsayer? Aquarius? It’s one of several remaining tall ships used for fishing until steel-hulled contraptions proved more efficient. The wooden ships would probably have ended up as firewood if not for the devoted efforts of preservationists. Now they have new lives as teaching vessels, wedding venues, and in my lucky case - a social excursion similar to what was referred to on my Caribbean honeymoon as “The Booze Cruise.“

Some shopping was in order, but the two things I knew we’d be taking were my Red House Cashmere Pashmina (RH29) and the Silk Twill Jacket (RH28) for Michael. Both in black, because San Francisco is not sunny like Napa, and black is the sophisticated choice for urban denizens year-round. And we sure didn’t want to dress nautical. Don’t you love seeing the returning vacationers in airports, sporting sunburns and crumpled white resort wear? I can’t blame them for trying to stay in vacation mode, but laughing makes my business travel more tolerable.

We arrived at the pier to see a ship even more glorious than I had pictured. This really was a work of living history - lacquered wood, gleaming brass and beautiful design. A relic of The Age of Sail that I hope will endure for future generations to experience. It is wood though, and sits in the water. I wonder how long it will last?

As an added bonus we had the perfect day for a sail – smooth water, and even a little bit of sun. I wondered if I’d have to wear a blaze-orange life jacket over my carefully selected outfit, but no one else seemed to be dressed for a watery rescue. Good sign. The crew was in well-starched sailing whites (not crumpled), and the attendees were all as elegantly appointed as the ship. Oh, and the food! A well-known Napa chef had been hired to create a sumptuous seafood buffet. And the featured wines were exceptional – I saw some that I had only had occasion to taste, and now would have the chance to enjoy by the glass. This was going to be great!