225BatonRouge.com - Blogs

Investigative reporter, author and former federal agent Chuck Hustmyre has seen the ugly side of life, from A to Z. Here he gets the last word on politics, crime, local government and pop culture.

You know what bums me out? Looking out across the University Lakes and not seeing a single sail.

Back in the mid-1980s, every weekend the University Lakes were covered by a motley quilt of colorful sails. A buddy of mine named Miles Wright and I used to sailboard every weekend. On a lot of weekdays when the wind was whipping we'd ditch class at LSU and go sailing.

We bought wetsuits so we could sail in the winter because that was when the wind was really kicking. Sometimes that cold north wind would kick up whitecaps and rocket us across the lake.

On a good spring day there would easily be a half-dozen sailboarders on the Stanford Avenue side, usually more. A guy named James used to show up on the weekends in an old van towing a trailer full of rental boards. Driving past, you could tell who was on the lake by the color scheme of their sails. Another friend's dad, Ray Decker, had a big 7-square-foot sail, blue with a pink stripe. He was in his late 60s when he picked up the sport.

I had two sails, a big one for light winds and a small one for the heavy stuff. There was a lot of setup involved in the sport, which is maybe why there aren't any sailboarders around anymore.

The boards were six or seven feet long and heavy. It took a while to rig them up. You had to know a lot of about tying knots. When the wind was ripping, the sail could catapult you right over the board unless you harnessed yourself into the boom and used your body weight to keep it under control. You had to operate the centerboard with your foot and position it correctly, depending on whether you were running, reaching or beating the wind. In a heavy blow you had to wedge your feet into footstraps mounted on the deck to keep yourself anchored to the board.

It was hard work for a 30-second run across a small lake, but when everything came together just right -- the wind, the set of your sail, your body position -- it was as an exhilarating ride as you could get.

In the late 80s my buddies and I traded our sailboards for scuba gear. A few years later Miles moved to the Keys, Jeff went to law school, and I went to work in New Orleans.

I moved back in 2002. The undeveloped spit of land we used to launch our boards from had turned into Baton Rouge Beach. Gone was the jagged two-foot drop we had clamber down, boards held high, to get to the water. It had become a gentle sandy slope. Perfect for sailing. But there were no more sails.

The sailors and their boards were gone. I haven't seen any since I moved back.

The University Lakes certainly weren't the best place to sailboard. Lake Pontchartrain at Mandeville and Leeside Bay in Ft. Walton Beach had nearly endless straight-aways. You could sail forever without having to tack or jibe, but the University Lakes were our spot and a decent place to sail.

The spot is still there, better than before, but all the boards have sailed away. I wonder where they've gone.

Chuck out.

Share your tips and opinions with Chuck at chuckhustmyre@gmail.com.