PenDragon - the official magazine of Lyford Cay International School PenDragon Vol 1, Spring 2015 | Page 24

YOUNG MAN & THE SEA
MEMORIES OF AN LCIS STUDENT
By Eric T. Wiberg (LCIS, 1975 - 1979)
Age of Innocence At that time in the club’s history there were no buildings,
walls, or working roads between the school playground
and the edge of the canal. This meant that a curious
loner like me could wander across the field during recess
and sit enchanted at the lip of the canal, staring at the
beckoning sea. From the edge of the concrete canal
I could see lovely fish darting out from under the boat:
jellyfish, larger fish in the deeper water, and all manner
of little sea creatures. I was enraptured.
I was to spend five school years at Lyford Cay School,
from kindergarten to fourth grade. Some of my happiest
memories consisted of the game days when we could
compete at fun sports like the three-legged run with my
friend Chris Dinnick, the sack race, and, perhaps most
fun of all, the dog show where we brought our dogs Honey
(a golden lab) and Chippy (a black potcake) to compete.
Of course, I have other memories: guilt over stamping
on the tail of a lizard and seeing it fall off (I was hugely
relieved to learn that their tails grow back), and wariness
of the occasional corporal punishment meted out. I also
remember the thrill and nervousness at being entrusted
by some of the faculty to leave the gates with cash in
order to buy them goods at the City Market! However, of
all these experiences, the school’s proximity to the sea
was to have the most profound effect on me. There was an authentic, working fishing smack kept
moored along the sea wall. I will never forget its orange-
painted, chipped and dry deck, the white hull with a pretty
blue stripe at the water line, the tiller, the fish-well, and
the scales of past victims scattered across the cockpit.
And, of course, the mast, the sails tucked away, and the
outboard engine. It was all very tantalizing for a boy of
about six.
I first attended Lyford Cay School, as it was then known,
in the fall of 1974. I was four years old and one of four
children from Cable Beach who attended the school. I’ll
never forget that on my first day there was a boy who
refused to leave his car and kept yelling, “I’m not going!”
His mother and the headmistress at the time, Mrs. Miller,
managed to carry him out of the car. I promised myself
not to behave like that.
The Canal and Ocean
Apart from the lessons, the homework, uniforms, the
various crushes that develop at that age, the spirited
softball games, the competition over who got the best
lunch, the car pools, and seeing our first film on a large
reel at a birthday party (Treasure Island at the Wilkinsons),
the nearby ocean made the biggest impression on my
young mind.
By far the most vivid sentiments that I remember from
these peaceful, thoughtful sessions on the water were
that I wanted more than anything to venture out to sea,
beyond the canal entrance, and to experience adventures
on the world’s open waters. Also, I dreamed that one day
I would build a house along the east side of the canal
where there were no houses – and still aren’t any. The
first dream I managed to fulfill over the next 25 years,
though admittedly I have not reached the stage in my
career yet where I can fulfill the second!
Sailing Away
In summer camp in North Carolina and in the waters
of Cable Beach I learned how to sail a Sunfish. At 17,
I sailed offshore – out of sight of land – with an uncle
in Sweden. At 18, I was paid to race from New England
to Bermuda – 660 miles away – and sail back. I was
hooked. I went to boarding school in Newport, Rhode
Island, and the school had its own yacht, which I sailed
in The Bahamas. At Boston College I joined the sailing
team. Over the next four summers I managed to cross the
Atlantic Ocean and race yachts to, or deliver them back
from, Bermuda numerous times. I even once sailed into
Nassau from Bermuda after spending two weeks at sea
in a failed attempt to cross the Atlantic. Since I had no
way of informing my parents, they were surprised when I
arrived home!
At age 23, I was chosen to command a 68-foot wooden
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