Collecting Adventures by Peggy Scholberg

Ewing Family (Nancy steering)

As a child, my mother spent summers on Lake Michigan with her family in their sailboats and yachts. She was comfortable in any boat, on any body of water, at any time. She often made her way into the captain’s chair – or the driver’s seat. Eventually she would work to find out just how may boats she could “drive.” After joining the Army, she used opportunities to expand her collection beyond just boats. 

In the book Girls in a World at War, my mother (alias Kathy) manages to get into several driver’s seats. At basic training, she was able to drive a jeep, an ambulance, and even a tank. Later, en route to a visit home to her family, she was able to get into the cockpit of a lumbering C-47. Then, when stuck at an airport, she managed to fly with a fighter pilot, an exhilarating experience. When her orders took her overseas, while crossing of the Atlantic, she managed to get herself into the commander’s seat of their ship. 

When my mother was in her 80s I recall getting a call from her. She and her brother had just visited the San Diego Zoo. She proudly announced that she had just rode an elephant by the name of Ruth. She giggled and said with delight: “I’ve never driven an elephant before!”

Read more about her collection of driving adventures in Girls in a World at War. Be sure to ask yourself, “What adventures might I want to collect?”

Book Excerpt

While most of the nurses were content to sun-bathe, Kathy explored Marseille. She walked up the steep winding road to the celebrated Notre Dame de la Garde, the highest peak of the old city. Mounted on top of the basilica was a 30-foot golden statue of the Virgin Mary. From there she could see both a panoramic view of Marseille and the blue Mediterranean. She walked along La Canebière to the old harbor. She was fascinated by the old fishing boats and nets full of strange-colored fish, and the Arabs and Africans in exotic clothes. She watched a tank ship, similar to ones that carried oil in the United States, unloading wine through a hose.

She waved happily at a French family hoisting the sails on a sloop. They waved back, and in a few minutes, when they discovered she spoke French, invited her on board. The father, on vacation, took his wife and two children sailing every day. They came over to the pier to pick up Kathy.

A Lieutenant, sitting on the pier said to another Lieutenant sitting beside him. “Look at that. How does she do it? She just walks down and gets invited to sail. We’ve been trying for months.” The Frenchman asked Kathy what they said, and when she interpreted, invited them along too.

“My friend, Brad Green,” the taller Lieutenant made the introductions. “I’m Clinton Johnson, at your service.” He saluted. “Please tell your French friends I’m a mess officer. If they like, I can bring K-Rations for lunch, or anything else.”

The French had no idea what K-Rations were, and were puzzled at the waxed boxes Clinton brought from his jeep.

Kathy hoisted the jib, to show she was a sailor. They cast off, the wind caught the sails, and they slid silently away. They crossed the harbor on three tacks. This gave the Americans a close look at boats and docks, some ruined by war, while they passed out into the open sea. The wind, unhindered by hills and buildings, blew strong across the water. Clear water splashed the decks.

Once safely away from other boats, the Frenchman gave Kathy the helm. He pointed ahead to their destination. They were headed to an island, the Château d’If, where the Count de Monte Cristo had been kept prisoner. Kathy had forgotten the feel of the helm. She alternately spilled the wind from the sails or caught the full force of the wind. Gradually she learned her boat and was able to hold the course. The sun sparkled on the spray, making miniature rainbows. The sea rushed by, the wind sang in the stays and halyards, and Kathy worked with them both. She melded her strength and wits with the sloop, the wind and the water, and soared ahead. Apply natural laws of force and angles, harness the elements, and reach your destination. Kathy was back in a world she understood.

She sailed daily with the French family and Clinton Johnson without getting involved in their lives. While she remained indifferent to the people, her interest in the sloop grew. She learned how quickly the sloop could come about, how to trim her sails in a light wind or a strong wind, how she would behave in a squall. Over it all was the joy of the feel of the helm. When she pushed or pulled, she kept the sloop in harmony with wind and water.

People, human beings, could no longer bewilder nor scare her. She could love them, feel compassion for their troubles, without participating in their lives. She could now work effectively, harmoniously with people as she could with the sloop.

Kathy sailed every day, yet she could not get any of the other girls in her hospital unit to go with her. She made friends in the Marseille art colony. She became a close friend of a Florentine girl when Kathy gave her a pair of nylons. Yet the more friends she made among the French, the more isolated she felt from the American girls, who still preferred sunbathing.

The dark and narrow streets of Marseille were truly dangerous—and were off limits. There was an abundance of the more dangerous type of American soldiers in Marseille. The Army’s policy did not allow any man with a venereal disease on board a ship. Instead, they were transferred through hospitals into units remaining in port, giving them increasingly high rates The VD rate for soldiers was said to be 334 percent. The average man in that unit had contracted VD three-and-a-third times. But Kathy was not afraid of these men. Instead, she pitied their loneliness, and their pathetic struggle to find peace.

When Bunts offered to go sailing with Kathy, Kathy was delighted to have an American companion. From their villa, they rode in the back of the Army truck that routinely drove to Marseille and back twice daily. Next, they walked in the stifling heat from the Red Cross Canteen over to the old harbor. A cool breeze came across the water. They wore bathing suits under their uniforms.

Just as they arrived, the sailboat was sliding away from the pier. Her sails were well filled with a speeding wind. Kathy shouted and waved and ran along the harbor road trying to catch the sailor’s attention. Two white-helmeted MPs in a jeep rushed to Kathy and screeched to a stop. “Need help, Lieutenant?” asked the driver.

Kathy was apologetic. “I was just trying to catch that sailboat to ride with them, but we are minutes too late. It’s not important.” Yet it was important. She wanted to take Bunts out on the cool water, away from the hot smell of fish. She wanted to give her the joys of sailing, and thus earn her friendship. Then maybe Kathy wouldn’t be exploring Marseille alone, but have Bunts as a companion.

“Hop in.” An MP opened the jeep door for them. “We’ll catch them.”

Kathy and Bunts climbed into the jeep. The MPs raced down the narrow, crooked road, honking the horn loud and long. Everyone in the harbor looked except the friends on the boat. Finally, those on the boat saw them and brought the sloop into the wind to wait.

A fisherman in a rowboat offered to ferry them out, so Kathy took off her shirt and skirt and shoes. Bunts took off her shoes. They climbed across the huge jagged rocks at the shore to the rowboat. Kathy gave him a package of cigarettes for the ride, which he accepted as bountiful.

It was a delightful day for showing off the pleasures of sailing. The breeze was good, the water blue, the sun dazzling. Kathy pointed out the gilded Virgin giving her blessings over the city and ships, the old forts at the harbor’s entrance, and the crumbling castle on the Château d’If.