I was eating an ice cream cone by myself in the shade of the gazebo, the cold creaminess on my tongue in direct contrast to the humid air on my arms. Gusts of warm wind came off the Miles River and over the grass lawn, reaching my face. It was my weekly Wednesday downtime, after sailing into St. Michaels with a flotilla of students and fellow instructors. Teaching sailing was a great summer job for us college students in the late ‘80s.