French Sailing Shirt

The Knockdown.

Sixty-knot winds are raking the deck of his sloop. 

At 4 p.m., a rogue wave blindsides him and knocks the boat flat. The mast is crushed. The wheel is gone. The woman is swept overboard when her safety harness snaps.

He unclips his own harness to leap in after her, spots her from the crest of a swell. Iron will kicks in; somehow he gets them both back to the wreck.

Nighttime currents drive them onto a beach.

Officials said he had eight years left in his Olympic career, but he opened a sail loft instead and coaches young sailors who dream of bringing home the gold.

You see the two of them sometimes sitting at an outside café table in Auckland, her hand resting on his. He often wears an old blue blazer and his trademark, the square-cut French sailing shirt that she gave him.