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Knickerbocker Sailing Association

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Betsy Ross

From "My life as Betsy Ross" - a colorful account of a new member's first visit to a KSA Monthly Meeting !!

Part I:

Sailing was something I read about growing up in Kansas- ancient mariner pictures on the wall, homoerotic pirate movies, and as the magazines showed. a lifestyle for the beautiful rich and famous. All very different, exotic in wasp way, the kind of thing that captured my imagination. Even though I was thousands of miles from the nearest ocean and had never seen one I knew someday somewhere....

RJ Cote had been my friend for more than ten years, we worked on many graphic projects together- everything from Overthrow posters to Disney Movies, he loves the rainbow flag. One day at 9 Bleecker I was complaining about how boring the Gay Parade had become, sure it was fabulous and essential, but after 25 years it never changed - I felt called to do something about it. Something new. So I mentioned how Christo's Gates got me thinking about doing a rainbow flag project on the water- using nature as the canvas or stage for the public experience. Being a New Yorker I love the Hudson River and so I asked RJ if he knew anything about boats- I'd only taken the Staten Island ferry.

RJ said to my astonishment he had a sailboat over in Brooklyn- he'd never mentioned it once in the years we'd known each other. A few weeks later we were walking along a rickety wooden dock in an old Mill Basin marina, carrying a sack lunch and a bag of tools. We came to the end of the long floating walkway and there was the "Alegra" RJ's pride and joy, a 27 ft Pearson Trident. This he said was the nautical equivalent of having a 1967 mustang - coincidentally the same year the boat was made. We hung out and had a magical afternoon finally getting the motor to turn over and we shoved away from land. I was hooked.

When I got home I went on line, and googling gay sailing came upon the Knickerbocker Sailing Assn. Looked at the site and told RJ we should check it out- which we did few weeks later. I never join anything, way too artistically independent, but I signed up. I was doing something I'd never done in my life - SPORTS. My friends howled at the thought of me as jock, but diving in completed a circle back to those childhood dreams, it was the beginning of something wonderful.

Part II: Circles and Dreams

New York is, of course, made up of straight lines and bold realities. Having never been to a sports club gathering, I walked with a head full of expectations towards Marion's Marquee and my first meeting of the Knickerbocker Sailing Association.

I knew Marions bistro next door quite well- in the early mid nineties we'd go there all the time late nite for a good steak and perfect fries. RJ and our friends from 9 would wonder in after 11 and the place would be full of the hip Nolita crowd. It had the feel of Paris and we'd eat and drink. Then it got discovered and it was stretch limos and supermodels - you couldn't get in and the old Nolita crowd ... well everything changes.

Still I looked forward to a great meal- the website said you got dinner for your $20 contribution (ed: $10 for first time visitors). I always dress to the nines and I'd gotten a pair of dock siders after RJ insisted I wear white soled shoes on his boat the Alegra. Naturally I took it all the way with a white linen Jacket and electric azure Khakis. First impressions always count and I looked like the millionaire from Gilligans Island. RJ laughed at my sartorial pretensions and wore his standard popeye ensemble of a p-coat , baggy jeans, and a funny old sailors hat I thought was from Russia.

We got there and the place was closed. nada. empty. It was early, around 6:30, so we checked out Marions and were told the meeting was next week...feeling like idiots we went down stairs to a basement bar and had a beer. It was decked out like the cabin of an old ship all lanterns and netting. That's when RJ told me alot of sailing was about timing- you just never know when the conditions will be right. Sometimes you just sit there in the water and nothing happens...

But the following week we tried again, and as we approached, there was a sign saying "KSA Meeting tonite" and we saw people making there way inside. I was struck by how casual it all seemed- definitely not the A gay yacht club I'd imagined. And so, as usual, I was over dressed and nervous when I paid my dues and surveyed the faces of handsome middle aged men who all seemed to know each other. An energetic younger guy immediately introduced himself - we'd mailed each other, he was incharge of membership. There were smiles as he led RJ and I around the room introducing us and we relaxed. This wasn't some stuffy frat- and even though my only qualification for sailing was knowing how to swim- I got the sense that we were welcome, my inexperience and all.

RJ has tons of sailing know how- grew up with it, loved it, even worked for the Sailing Foundation out on Long Island somewhere. It wasn't long before he was chatting up other captains - the people who own boats- about his. I just listened and absorbed as much as I could. This was a group of friends all of whom were there to share their love of the sport. When the meeting got started we had to introduce ourselves- I mentioned my back ground as the maker of the rainbow Flag, that my love of flags had brought me there - boats and flags have a long history and I wanted to explore that.

Not long after RJ and I were loading the last of our supplies on the Alegra, getting ready to sail over to Sandy Hook NJ for our first KSA flotilla on Memorial day weekend. We got there in the afternoon and as we made our way through the shallow channel we saw a dozen really fabulous boats old and new all anchored with pennants and burgees flying. We made good friends that night- a big camp fire and pot luck BBQ - lotsa vodka and a stolen moment away from the crowd for a smoke. I looked around soaking up the happy vibe, the pastel sunset and the long shadows on the sand bar. Every one told their tales of the sea, a warm steady wind of laughter blowing all around. Nothing's really perfect in life, but this was pretty close. I was hooked, committed, and finally open to losing my fear of the water and to the adventure ahead.

By Gilbert Baker