Hi, I'm Maria. I've been sailing small boats since I was seven and teaching at the community boathouse in the city park on the bay since 1995. This page is for my students, past and future, and for anybody who has stood on the seawall watching the little white sails and wondered whether they could do that. You can. It takes eight Saturday mornings and a willingness to get wet.

What it is: a beginner's course in sailing small dinghies, run by the parks department out of the boathouse. We sail Sunfish for one person and 420s for two, on the protected water inside the bay. No experience needed; you do need to be able to swim 50 yards and tread water for five minutes, and we check on the first day.

Who: adults and kids 12 and up (kids under 16 sail with a parent or with me in the boat). This summer's class ranged from a 13-year-old to a 71-year-old, and the 71-year-old won the last-day race.

When: eight Saturdays, 8 a.m. to noon, June and July. We start early because the sea breeze is steady in the morning and the thunderstorms come in the afternoon, and we are off the water before the first one.

Cost: the parks department sets a class fee that covers boats, life jackets and insurance, and it's low; I don't set it and I don't collect it. What I collect is your attention for four hours a Saturday.

Everything below is what we cover, in the order we cover it. If you're a past student, it's your review sheet. If you're thinking about next summer, it's a preview, and it's a lot more fun on the water than on the page.

Before you touch a boat, you put on a Coast Guard-approved life jacket, and you wear it from the dock to the dock. Not stowed under the seat. Not unzipped because it's hot. On, zipped, snug enough that it doesn't ride up over your ears when I tug the shoulders, which I will. Everybody in this program wears one, including me, every time, including the day it's flat calm and 95 degrees. A person who can swim 50 yards on a calm day can still get knocked on the head by a boom. The life jacket is what floats you while the rest of us get to you.

The boathouse has them in every size, and they're free to use. If you own your own, bring it, and I'll look it over. That's the whole rule. There's no second rule that matters as much.

A sailboat cannot sail straight into the wind. That's the first thing that surprises people. Everything else about sailing comes from where the wind is compared to where the boat is pointing, and we call those directions the points of sail. Picture a clock face with the wind blowing from 12 o'clock:

The rule of thumb for the sail: let it out until it starts to flap at the front edge, then pull it in just enough to stop the flapping. That's the right trim on any point of sail, and if you remember one sentence from this page, make it that one.

How do you know where the wind is? Feel it on both ears. Look at the flags on the boathouse, the little ribbons (telltales) on the rigging, the ripples on the water, the other boats. After about the third Saturday you stop having to think about it.

Because you can't sail straight into the wind, getting upwind means zigzagging, and each zig means turning the boat through the wind so the sail fills on the other side. There are two ways to do it, and the difference is which end of the boat goes through the wind.

Tacking is turning the bow (the front) through the wind. You're close-hauled, you push the tiller away from you toward the sail, the bow swings through the no-go zone, the sail flaps for a second and fills on the other side, and you scoot across to the new high side. It's gentle. The boom comes across slowly. What we say in the boat, so everybody knows what's happening:

• Skipper: "Ready about?" (Are you ready to tack?)
• Crew: "Ready."
• Skipper: "Helm's a-lee!" — and pushes the tiller over. Everybody ducks the boom and switches sides.

The mistake everybody makes: turning too slowly and stopping in irons, head to wind, sail flapping, going backward. If that happens, don't panic. Push the boom out to one side with your hand to back the sail, the boat will swing off, and you're sailing again.

Jibing is turning the stern (the back) through the wind. You do it when you're sailing downwind and want to turn the other way. It's faster than tacking and it needs more respect, because the sail is all the way out on one side and when the wind gets behind it the boom comes across the boat fast and at head height. Anybody who's been hit by a boom will tell you why we do this carefully:

• Skipper: "Prepare to jibe!" Crew: "Ready."
• Skipper pulls the mainsheet in hand over hand so the boom comes toward the middle of the boat under control, instead of flying across on its own.
• Skipper: "Jibe-ho!" — turns the boat, the wind catches the other side of the sail, the boom crosses (everybody's already ducked, because they heard "prepare to jibe"), and the skipper lets the sheet run out on the new side.

An accidental jibe — the boom crossing on its own because you wandered too far downwind — is the number one way beginners get hurt or capsized. So when you're running, keep your head down, keep an eye on the wind, and if in doubt, head up a little to a broad reach. In the first four weeks I ask everybody to tack their way around instead of jibing, until it's second nature.

I give everyone a three-foot piece of line on the first day and we tie these on the dock until they're automatic. You'll be tested on them on week four, with your eyes closed. Practice on the couch during the week.

1. The bowline. (Say "BOH-lin.") A loop that won't slip and won't jam, and that you can untie after it's been loaded. It's the knot for tying a line to anything with a loop: the painter to the bow, a sheet to the sail. Everybody learns it with the rabbit: make a small loop in the line (the hole), with the long end (the tree) going away from you. The rabbit (the working end) comes up out of the hole, goes around the tree, and goes back down the hole. Pull tight. If the rabbit went down the hole first you've tied something else, and it'll come apart.

2. The cleat hitch. For tying the boat to the dock. Take the line once all the way around the base of the cleat, under both horns. Then go over the top in a figure-eight: over one horn, across, under and over the other horn. Finish with a locking hitch: make a little loop in the line, flip it upside down, and drop it over the horn so the line pins itself. It should look neat and lie flat. A pile of loops around a cleat is not a cleat hitch; it's a mess that will let the boat go.

3. The figure-eight. A stopper knot in the end of a line so it can't pull through a block (pulley). Make a loop, pass the end around behind the standing part and back down through the loop. It goes in the end of every sheet on every boat we own, and if you find one missing, tie it before you leave the dock.

You'll also see me tie a square knot (reef knot) to tie a rolled-up sail, and a couple of half hitches to tie off to a piling. Those come later. Bowline, cleat hitch, figure-eight: learn those three and you'll never be the person on the dock holding a line and looking helpless.

Small boats tip over. Not often, if you're paying attention, but a gust will eventually catch you with the sail in too tight and over you'll go, and the whole reason I make everybody do it on purpose in week five, in warm water, next to the safety boat, is so that the first time it happens for real it's boring. Every student capsizes and rights the boat twice. Nobody gets out of it. Some of the teenagers do it five times because they think it's the best part, and honestly it is.

The drill, for a Sunfish or a 420:

1. Stay with the boat. This is the whole thing. The boat floats. Never swim away from it, not for a hat, not for the dock, not for anything. Count heads: is everybody up and holding on?
2. Get to the bottom. Swim around to the underside where the daggerboard (or centerboard) is sticking out sideways. Make sure the sheets are uncleated so the sail doesn't fill and dump you again as soon as the boat comes up.
3. Stand on the board. Get your weight on the daggerboard, close to the hull where it's strongest, hold the edge of the boat (the gunwale), and lean back. Let your weight do the work. The mast lifts out of the water, slowly, then all at once.
4. Climb in as it comes up. Over the side by the board, or over the stern, which is easier on a 420. Don't pull down on one side with somebody still climbing on the other, or it'll flip again. On a two-person boat, one person rights it while the other floats in the cockpit and gets "scooped" in as it comes upright.
5. Sort out the boat. Sail luffing, boat pointed into the wind, sheets loose, bail if you need to, check the rudder, and sail away like nothing happened.

If the boat goes all the way over so the mast points straight down (we call that "turtled"), climb onto the upturned hull, get the daggerboard all the way out so you have something to stand on, and lean back the same way; it just takes longer. In our little bay the water's shallow enough in most places that the mast finds the bottom first, which is its own problem, and the safety boat comes over for that.

The safety boat is a small outboard skiff, and it is on the water every minute the class is. It has a radio, a first aid kit, extra life jackets and a tow line. On capsize day it also has a very patient volunteer holding a stopwatch, because we time the righting, and this year's record was 19 seconds, set by the 71-year-old.

Fourteen students, June 12 through July 31, and thirteen finished. (The fourteenth moved away in July, not our fault.) Week by week:

Things I'm changing for next year: the knot test moves to week three (people were ready), and I'm going to put the 420s out a week earlier. Things I'm not changing: capsize day, and the hot dogs.

The class is over but the boats aren't put away. Every Saturday morning in September and October, 8 to noon, the boathouse is open for anyone who has finished the course — this year's or any year's — to check out a Sunfish or a 420 and sail. I'm there, the safety boat is there, and there's no lesson; it's just sailing, and it's the best sailing of the year. The water is still warm, the wind is a little steadier than in July, and the afternoon storms have mostly quit.

Bring your certificate the first time (or just tell me your name; I remember you). Life jackets, as always. We'll pull the boats out for the winter the first weekend of November.

A few of this summer's class have been out every Saturday since. The 71-year-old has brought his grandson twice. That's what the program is for.

Next year's beginner course runs eight Saturdays, June 10 through July 29, 2000, 8 a.m. to noon. Fourteen spots, because that's how many boats we have with one in reserve. This year's class filled by the end of April, so:

• Registration opens April 1, 2000 at the boathouse and through the parks department. The fee will be posted there.
• To get on the interest list now, so I can e-mail you the day registration opens, send me a note at [email protected] with your name, how many people, and any ages under 16. That's all. No fee, no commitment; it just gets you the news first.
• Remember the swim test (50 yards, five minutes treading water). If you're not sure you can, the park pool has lap swim all winter, and I'll see you in June.

Questions about anything here, or about whether sailing is for you? Ask. My answer to the second one is yes.

— Maria