This is story #32 in the series “Where Exactly is Home?”. The author recommends you read them in order.
Introduction:
“Where Exactly is Home?” follows the story of my parents, my two younger brothers and me, Susan, who emigrated from war-battered Britain, in the mid-late 1950’s, to Southern Rhodesia, Africa.
The effects of this move on our family were huge, as we struggled to adapt to such a different way of life. Only after further upheaval, and more long-distance travelling, did our family eventually settle in the city of Salisbury, Rhodesia.
However, we did not know then that we would not remain there for the rest of our lives, either.
When the family first went to Africa, I, Susan, was 9 years old. My two brothers, John and Peter, were almost 7 and 4, respectively.
Nowadays, as seniors, John and Peter live in England. I live in Canada. Throughout our lives, we have both benefitted from, and suffered because of, our somewhat unusual childhood.
I, for one, still sometimes ask myself which country represents home to me.
This is a series of stories under the title “Where Exactly is Home?” – I recommend you read them in order, starting with story #1.
32. A Boat in a Bag?
Shopping bags, travel bags, sleeping bags, gift bags, wine bags, tea bags! Yes, there are many kinds of bags available. They are useful items which make our life easier or more comfortable. We can even buy a bed-in-a-bag. But what about a sailing boat in a bag? Who has ever heard of a boat in a bag?! Surely that is not possible. But yes, it is, and it was for our family in 1964, when we were living in Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia. Even though, we were 20 miles from our nearest lake, which latter was riddled with the parasitic snail causing bilharzia, my father had decided to buy a sailing boat. He had sent away to the manufacturer Granta, in England. When it arrived, it came in two bags.
At first, I couldn’t understand why my father was suddenly interested in sailing. He had always shied away from the sun, didn’t like swimming, and wasn’t into outdoor activities, though he did like to fish. By my teenage years, though, I had begun to realize that my father had numerous hobbies and interests. I was aware that hobbies came and went, and that he researched everything by reading books on his topic of the moment. So, when the sailing books came into our household, I knew where his latest pastime was heading, even if I didn’t understand why.
Was this the most sensible choice in a landlocked country? Maybe not, but I think he was intending to sail at Lake McIlwaine, a huge lake, really a reservoir providing water to the city. Our family of five sometimes booked a cabin there for the weekend to give us a break from our small flat. I assume that my father must have been thinking that having a foldable, packable sailing boat, meant that he didn’t have to pay fees to the local marina, and that it would be easier for him to fish, perhaps taking one or both of my brothers with him, too. Without the boat, he was somewhat curtailed to reading in the cabin. He was never into socializing with other campers.
