Here's me (with my mouth wide open) and my sister and my dad, circa 1977-ish. We're on a sailboat, probably sailing from Long Beach to Catalina. I have hazy sorts of memories from this day.
We also went sailing in the Bahamas the summer before the fifth grade. That trip I remember very clearly.
Just before that vacation, we drove from Colorado to Alabama and stopped mid-afternoon each day to swim in hotel pools and learn to float for long periods of time in case we fell off the boat and had to wait for it to come back around to pick us up. We learned to float a couple of ways, but the one I remember is the dead man's float.
We also dived for room keys (remember when hotels actually had keys?) and practiced snorkeling and tried to tread water like Dad. He just moves his arms back and forth very slowly and kicks every once in a while. I (still) madly kick my arms and legs like I'm having some sort of a fit in order not to go under.
Dad taught Audrey to swim last summer at the lake and I was reminded of all those afternoons in the pool with him. She wouldn't even get a drop of water on her face before the trip, but Dad had her jumping off the side of the pool and swimming with her face in the water by the end of the week.
Thanks for being such a great dad and papa. I love you!
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