“I must go down to the sea again
        to the lonely sea and the sky,
        and all I ask is a tall ship
        and a star to steer her by...”

        Thus said John Masefield in his poem, Sea Fever, and so did a group of joyfully overconfident young Lincolnites on a rather foggy, dismal Saturday morning in 1950.

        Our vessel was a fifteen foot skiff, owned by the brothers Materanges, John S50 (dec) and Dan S51, which soon became precariously overloaded with the six hulky bodies of Dave Cordano S51, Dan Klang, Bob Estes, Dick Jones, Ron Davis all S52 and Gary Gustafson F52,  all of whom believed that “Immortal” was their middle name.

        These foolish young lads embarked from the shore of Marina Green to sail the treacherous waters of San Francisco Bay, heading for Tiburon.

        Fortunately there was a friendly breeze, and the water had a kindly disposition even though waves occasionally thrashed the foredeck and thoroughly soaked the young sailors. No fear however. This was a teenage adventure, and we had our box of saltines, bottles of Delaware Punch, and an unwavering belief in our invincibility.

        Nautical luck was with us that day, for the group made the round trip, successfully staying out of the clasp of Davy Jones.

        The plot of this story, however, didn’t beach itself on Marina Green but was resurrected fifty years later and eighty miles south of San Francisco on the tranquil waters of Monterey Bay where Dan Materanges berths his forty-five foot yacht, the Zykanthos.

        On a warm summer morning, with almost the entire 1950 crew, this elegant craft slowly sailed out of Santa Cruz Harbor onto Monterey Bay. Included this time were wives and a couple of professional crew members.

        The deck atmosphere was a bit more upscale from the first sailing. Mid bay, the champagne cork was popped, followed by delicately prepared canapes whilst we floated in splendor on the bay’s calm waters, occasionally reminiscing about those foolish youthful days of yesteryear.

        Perhaps, if Masefield were on board, he might have amended his poem to read:

        “If I must go down to the sea again,
        to the lonely sea and the sky,
        It’s always a pleasure to sail with a friend,
        Especially, one met long ago
        At a school called “Lincoln High”