By Day Two, I had learned a new alphabet; now I just needed to use it. ''Martina Navratilova took this course and said learning to sail was one of the hardest things she's ever done,'' Cook said, to make us feel better.

That afternoon, we did, as we sailed out of Matanzas Pass and into San Carlos Bay in the Gulf of Mexico, past hotels and palm trees lining Fort Myers Beach. Bottlenose dolphins darted through the water in front of our boat, playing off the bow waves. We spotted a green sea turtle floating on the water's surface, and snowy egrets and great blue herons on the shore. Only two other boats crossed our horizon.

Kiss and I took turns steering and working the jib and mainsail, while Cook gave us pointers and talked about reading the boat and the wind.

''Here comes a burst,'' Cook said, pointing at the water.

Its surface appeared perfectly uniform to me; I couldn't spot anything that distinguished a gust of wind.

''Riiiight, now,'' he said, and a sudden puff of air made the boat tilt and leap forward.

Then he explained: The tone of the hull cutting through the water had shifted pitch, and leaning against the rail, he could feel the boat accelerate.

With repetition and practical time on the water, things began to sink in. Thankfully, the training boat had little labels next to each rope (or ''line,'' as it's called). That way, when Cook said, ''Secure the halyard and tighten the boom vang,'' I knew I was supposed to grab the red rope, release it from the thingy-ma-bob and hoist the mainsail, and then grip the rope attached to the silver tube and give it a tug.

Over the next couple of days, we practiced tacking and jibing up and down the coast, and learned how to react more instinctually. As our skills improved, we practiced man-overboard drills -- rescuing a buoy rather than each other -- learned what to do if we grounded, and reviewed basic navigation, right-of-way rules and safety issues.

''How do you know you're not on a collision course?'' Cook asked, as we steered toward a channel at the same time as another boat. ''If the land behind the other boat appears to be moving, then you're OK, but if the land isn't moving, you're on a collision course,'' he explained. ``It's geometry.''

PRACTICAL MATTERS

Unlike the classroom sessions, which got easier each day, the practical part of the course grew more difficult, as Cook encouraged us to make more decisions and sail on our own. Rather than telling us what to do, he would ask questions to get us to think and react. He was preparing us for our last day, when Kiss and I would take the $39,000 boat out on our own.

'The `free sail' is the graduation,'' Steve Colgate said.

Kiss and I both passed the 80-question, multiple-choice test on Day Four, joining the more than 100,000 people the school has certified in nearly 25 years. We went for another afternoon sail with Cook, to get more practice maneuvering the boat in and out of the slip and through the narrow channel into the bay, and to help us boost our confidence.

The day of our free sail, we inched away from the dock, waved goodbye to Cook and then eased the boat into San Carlos Bay. The wind was relatively calm but shifty, blowing up to about 15 knots. Tentatively, I took the helm, but I soon realized it was the idea of sailing without an instructor that spooked me, not the sailing itself.

For the next four hours, we zigzagged up and down the coast, tacking and jibing without any problems, and making minor adjustments to the lines or tiller as the wind shifted. As I relaxed and tuned into the boat, I was surprised at how ''alive'' it seemed: I could feel the wind as it vibrated down the mast and buzzed in the rigging, and I could hear the waves coursing over the hull.

''Ready to tack?'' Kiss asked, when it was finally time to head in.

''Wait a second,'' I said. ``I think I see a puff of wind coming.''

We sat for about 15 seconds, staring at the ocean's surface and listening to water slap against the hull. Then suddenly we felt the boat accelerate as a small gust of wind crossed the sails and swept across our faces.

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