Normally this journey would take about 6-7 hours and thinking this might be a great opportunity to impress this woman I was seeing, I invited her to accompany us. She had never been on a a sailboat before, and was excited by the prospect, so we agreed to rendez-vous and the adventure began.
Being the veteran of 2 trans-pacific sailing voyages, Peter had experienced all types of sailing conditions but he checked the weather report before we left and learned that there was a typhoon brewing in the South China Sea. "Nothing to worry about!" he said. "It's several hundred miles from here! It'll be fine."
Famous last words.
We boarded the sailboat and the journey began uneventfully. It was a gorgeous fall afternoon, the temperature was in the high seventies, the blue sky full of white, fluffy clouds, and we were all looking forward to the trip.
Have you ever seen the opening sequence to "Gilligan's Island" where they get to the part about "the ocean started getting rough?" That's what it felt like.
I looked over and my girlfriend was about three shades of green and was yakking over the side of the boat. No sooner did I go over to hold her hair out or her own vomit than I was feeding the fishes myself.
As crummy as I felt, and there is nothing worse than being violently seasick, I at least saw the humor in the situation. My girlfriend was afraid she was dying, and when it got worse, she was afraid she wouldn't die!
When Captain Chworowsky brought us safely to shore, three hours later (less than half the time the trip would have taken had we not had gale-force winds), and my feet were once again on Terra Firma, my appetitie returned and we had a big meal at the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club.
My girlfriend, however, did not recover as quickly and I'm pretty sure we stopped seeing each other soon after that.
Somehow Peter and I managed to survive the first semester (without girls) and wound up at this raging New Year's party in Repulse Bay. Now, one might ask, how would a couple of non-druggie, non-dating, pretty straight laced, (although wild looking, with crazy hair) boys, wound up in a hip, 70's Jimmy Hendrix, heroin-chic, grass smoking, opium tokin', makeout in the corner, ultra cool HKIS'rs party? Well, Donna Esgro (a definite FOX!), his neighbor, felt sorry for Peter, and brought him along. And me? My ultracool, 70's, Jimmy Hendrix, Heroin-chic, grass smoking, opium tokin' makeout in the corner at the ultra cool HKIS party, older brother dragged me along...out of sympathy. Harris couldn't stand the thought of his brother alone at home listening to another recap by Dick Clark or Kasey Kasem, of the past year's "Greatest Hits".
Yeah, great time, he dumped me at the front door and said, "You're on your own kid" I felt like Kevin Arnold in "The Wonder Years": a dork, sitting in the corner, trying to figure out, in the dark, what kind of tiny little sandwich
hor d'oeuvres I was nibbling on. Now, I may have looked like a rock-n-roller... I had the facial hair, the long locks, but I didn't smoke, I didn't drink, I definitely hadn't had sex, so what the HELL was I doing there? Well, I did own a drum set, but I couldn't keep a beat if my life depended on it (...and somehow, I don't think my Sears and Roebucks' set really counted anyhow.)
About an hour after telling all the hip pot smokers what sandwiches were on that DAMN plate (how did I know what the "munchies" were and how they were brought on?) Peter shows up...also dumped at the door by the gorgeous, ultra cool, Donna. So there we were, 2 LOSERS...eating those tiny little sandwiches.
We both stuck together in that corner that night. We were each other's rescuers. Somehow, even though we didn't do drugs, drink or had had sex yet, we had FINALLY found someone who would at least acknowlege us.
That shared experience somehow set out whole friendship off. We started hanging around together in the cafeteria at lunch and breaks...
Peter's commitment, as a friend, really shined when I had to spend 10 days in the hospital after knee surgery. He visited me everyday, all the way from Kowloon. Even my family, who were in Happy Valley didn't visit me that much. I'll never forget it. One of those days it was pouring rain, and there he was.
What can I say? He's a great guy, and I love him.
(Anything you want to say Rodney????)
