All Sailors Go Home To The Sea
Lt/C Denise Ellison Allen, Executive Officer
In lieu of my XO article, I have a story to tell about a wise, vibrant and special man who passed away in May. My father, David Ellison, was Past Commander of the Utica Sail and Power Squadron in Upstate New York. He was a Senior Navigator, an obstetrician~gynecologist, a violinist, and a Captain in the Army Reserves during WWII. I address my parents by their first names in this article as they are not only my parents, but my mentors and my friends.
In his heart, David (Dave) was a sailor and during his retirement his passion, besides chasing Lulu (Lu) around the house, was the Power Squadrons. He became a devoted advocate because the Squadrons enabled our family to have extraordinary experiences at sea and the skills to live beyond the confines of an ordinary life. He utilized everything he learned from the Squadrons and then gave it back. Dave and Lu's journey into boating started in the 1950's. You think as a child that your parents know everything and simply impart that knowledge to you. But it is not true. My siblings and I took that journey with our parents. We discovered boating together; we learned sailing together. The parents had a bit of an advantage though. They were in their 30's; I was a toddler!
Dave joined the Utica Power Squadron soon after purchasing the sloop “Zephyra” in 1961. He built his first boat, a sunfish, then moved quickly to the “Seabird” a wooden 27 foot cutter with a club footed jib. Now with the “Zephyra,” a Rhodes Chesapeake 32 and the only new boat he ever owned, he was ready to take his family and venture forth. “Zephyra,” Greek for “west wind,” was aptly named for a family beginning an odyssey into the unknown. Dave and Lu owned her for twelve years, a growing family of six living within 32 feet for five weeks every summer for several of the 12 years.
Over time, Dave and Lu took every Power Squadron class offered. I know now, that Dave told me every thing he learned up through the time I left for college. Not that I absorbed it all mind you! I think it was his way of embedding the knowledge within himself. The first thing we learned about boating was ― safety. Let me put that into perspective. Life jackets were worn by no one on my planet. It was just pounded into our heads to always keep one hand for the boat and to use common sense, “hang on sweetheart!” And let me remind you that back in the day, safety behaviors excluded any limitations on drinking once the sun was over someone’s yard arm.
When they took seamanship, I learned a lot of vocabulary but none of it was like the words my teacher taught me in school. We children practiced coiling lines each time we left or returned to port, hoisted sails or docked. Cinching, cleating, were practiced to perfection. Everything had to be ship shape, properly stowed, and the etiquette of stowing docking lines and fenders proudly respected. Anchoring and docking, we learned, required yelling and swearing. I discovered that my father knew enough swear words to construct a very long sentence. And you could count on him to swear for at least two or three sentences when he really got going. But he knew better than to swear at us and so, we learned to get along and work as a team.
I do not know when or what order my parents took the classes. I only know that with each new sailing season, we could do more and became more adventurous. Whatever Dave was learning, we children were learning. The world really opened up after they took the sailing classes. He started to teach me the art of helmsmanship and trim. Whenever I take the helm, I can hear his voice encouraging me to “feel the wind.” He always appreciated it more however when I actually paid attention - but what the heck I was just a kid. Eventually I did learn to respond intuitively to headers and lifts, and to be attuned to pinching and luffing. I learned to sail by the woolies, to tack as if you were racing against time, to trim a close-hauled sail perfectly, and not to tolerate a scalloping sail. Now, my family would appreciate it if I actually did not pay such close attention, but hey, to sail is to sail well.
I particularly enjoyed when they took celestial navigation. At the time, I had no idea what they were doing or why, but all of a sudden we spent endless time looking at the stars and the constellations. I loved it. Dave would point out the North Star and the Dippers, Cassiopeia, Orion, Betelgeuse, Sirius, over and over and over again. Each time as if discovering them anew. He memorized several of the stars for navigation; I just thought he was magnificent for knowing so much.
I use to wonder why we rarely went in when small craft warnings were flying. If we were on a cruise, which we frequently were, we would leave port despite them. Oddly on more than one occasion, we found ourselves in nasty foul weather on Lake Ontario. I hated being below decks in a storm, so I learned about heavy weather sailing along side Dave and Lu and we learned to really rely on each other. Saying that it was fun would be a stretch, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I got caught up in the adventure, the excitement and the challenge. Now years later, I understand that they were honing their skills. Their dream to do offshore distance cruising was in motion.
By 1972 Dave had sailed to the Caribbean on other friends' boats and he was becoming a particularly skilled sailor. He was eager for us to sail the ocean too. We traveled from the St. Lawrence River to NYC through the Barge Canal to Boothbay Harbor, ME and back. Three ships in caravan. Six teenagers and four adults. One ship skippered and crewed by three 18 year olds (the boyfriends J). He had mentored some of my friends to the point that their parents were comfortable letting their sons take their boat and make the trip with us.
A year later Dave and Lu sold the Zephyra to take command of the yawl Aragorn, an Allied XL 42. Then in 1982, they went after their dream. They were both Senior Navigators by that point. I have to interject here that not only did my incredible mother attain navigator status before Dave, but she was the first female Senior Navigator in her Squadron and in her District to do so. Again, they sailed from Lake Ontario to NYC then to the Caribbean, skirting a hurricane and keeping a windsurfer strapped to the lifelines. They sailed down there for a year or so. They would find remote places and anchor. If (not a lot of) people were around, Dave would launch the windsurfer and go sailing with his bathing suit tied to the hand rail of the windsurfer. The ultimate in freedom. Finally, they sailed from the Caribbean to Maine. By then Dave and Lu were becoming grandparents and Lu wanted to return home. I think if not for his family, Dave would have just kept sailing eastward. Upon their return, Dave and Lu immersed themselves in their Squadron teaching classes and taking friends and students sailing.
Dave and Lu owned the Aragorn for almost 30 years and reluctantly sold her in 2000. Dad bought a 25 foot Catalina mostly as an excuse to be with his boating buddies and for something to fix. Then in 2003 he gave me his life jacket, his hand held compass, his sextant, his boat and his cherished ditty bag. In giving me all this, he had only one request. He asked me to join the Power Squadrons.
My father passed peacefully in his sleep this past May at the age of 87; Lulu close at hand. By the time he finished his last voyage he had taken hundreds of friends sailing, taught many boating classes and sailed many thousands of miles. I had the privilege of sailing at least 2000 of those miles with my kind and fun-loving father. I understand how central the Power Squadrons were in his life and therefore mine. It enabled so many of our accomplishments as a family. I know it served to strengthen our family, our friendships, and gave us the knowledge, skills and courage to undertake unforgettable and challenging adventures. Among his most satisfying rewards in life was seeing his boating friends leverage their association with the Power Squadrons into a most fulfilling life for their families.