When I lived in Rhode Island I sailed with a friend of mine. Harold had a 22 foot sailing boat. A blue hulled day-sailer with which we criss-crossed Narraganset Bay. Winds could be stiff and we loved skimming through the water heeled over so hard water streamed past the combing, inches away. It was a religious experience. We ate french bread, with cheese and drank Jewish sacramental wine. Ocean hissed on either side as the bow threw waves back on themselves in large fans of spray. This was holy communion.