Sailing, a harnessing of wind with canvas to propel a sailboat across distances of water, in winds shaped by landforms, airflow and temperature, requires constant renegotiation by skipper and crew in response to the wind's changeable presence. In a choreography of movement, sails secured by sheets are loosened or reined in by hand to allow wind spillage or to capitalize on a wayward breeze. A luffing sail means carelessness at the helm or an impending gust; an over-heeled boat requires spilling wind from the sails, a sail drawn in too tight slows the boat, shape of the sail matters. Inattention can result in capsize, as the horizon tilts, and bodies seek to counterbalance. Ever vigilant, a wary crew watches for floating debris, dead-heads surfacing, a buoy marking a crab trap, paddlers, or a sailing craft on starboard tack. Attention too must be given to catpaws rippling across darkening water, wind gusts that scamper with an eagerness that at first deceive, as sails momentarily luff. Sailing, for the author, has been a travelling of bodies of water marked by winds, each venture revealing the particular temperaments and geographies of the places the author has sailed: Lake Ontario, Lac Montauban, Gulf Islands, English Bay. These are her touchstones, familiar places of entering into dialogue with water and wind, each experience of sailing timelocked but recalled in visceral ways. In this article, the author shares several of her sailing experiences in different locations.