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Acting Governor Richard J. Codey unveiled the top five entries for New Jersey's tourism slogan yesterday and asked state residents to vote for their favorite.

New Jersey tourism slogan?
	New Jersey: Expect the Unexpected
	New Jersey: Love at First Sight
	New Jersey: Come See for Yourself
	New Jersey: The Real Deal
	New Jersey: The Best Kept Secret
	New Jersey: We Hate You, Too
	If Living Here Were Easy, It Would Be Another State
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The 8th Wonder of the World

girl meets gorilla. girl loses gorilla. girl gets gorilla.

LBI Bumper Sticker Sighting

This morning while driving Kyle to school I suddenly found myself behind a car with an LBI bumper sticker (the one with Barnegat Light as the I). The car ended up going to Kyle's school and dropped off a student. So, I think that I can safely assume that there are two kids going to La Jolla High School that have made exit 63 on the GSP. This sighting amazingly raises the total of LBI sticker sightings to four (one of them being Dave's Honda) in San Diego County. In all four cases the LBI sticker was the only sticker on the car. 3,000 miles away the magic lives. I guess that it is time for me to get one for my car and raise the total to five.

Happy Birthday Rubeus Hagrid

Born: December 6, 1928

Happy Birthday from Fang, Aragog, Buckbeak, Norbert, Fluffy & Ross

The Time Has Come

Time to start planning the Yankee-Swap! Who's in? What's the suggested limit? Remember, unless you are under 16 or over 60, participation in the Virtual Yankee-Swap(tm) precludes you from receiving otherwise tangible gift like items from others in the VY-S. Not that you would be guaranteed of getting one anyway!

Last Race Report of the Season

Part 1: No Sooner Said Than Done

My last race report ended, as you may recall, with the words “Providing, of course, that I don’t run into anything.” Life keeps teaching us an important lesson, and we (or, at least, I) keep failing to learn it — Do not tempt fate. The very next time I sailed, I ran into something.

The occasion was the Harbor Sailboats Fall Fleet Race, an annual event that sends racers in any type of boat off on a handicapped random-leg course. It was entirely separate from the Capri 22 series about which I’ve been reporting, but I was sailing a Capri 22 anyway, with Emma as crew. Ross and Kyle were competing in their own 22.

In the final (but long) leg of the race, I was sailing close-hauled on starboard tack. I came into range of a 30-or-so-foot boat called Tangaroa, sailing close-hauled on port tack. If you know your right-of-way rules, you know he was required to get out of my way. But he crossed ahead of me with too little room to pass clearly; I hailed him, and he did nothing; I attempted to evade him, but we hit.

Fortunately, no one was hurt, and damage was limited to my bow pulpit being bent out of shape. (Should you happen not to know, a bow pulpit is a structure of stainless steel pipes mounted on the bow to give crew something to grab onto. It’s absent from smaller boats, but standard on larger boats.)

Incredibly, even after the collision this guy seemed intent on getting in my way. We crossed three or four more times and, regardless of what the rules might require, I had to evade him every time.

The New York Times, by convention, declares itself a “family newspaper” and declines to use off-color language even when a story might make such language appropriate. Well this, I suppose, is a family blog. So allow me, by way of editorial comment, to note that Tangaroa is the name not only of the boat with which I collided, but also of a mythical Polynesian god renowned for an anatomical characteristic entirely in keeping with my opinion of the boat’s skipper.

Part 2: All’s Well That Ends Well

So — Race 4. I was there, with Emma once again as crew. Steve was there. Dennis was there. So were two other boats. But the wind was somewhere else.

Because there was literally no breeze, we had to motor out to reach the course before the race began. Just before the start (and I mean perhaps two minutes before the start) a waft of breeze materialized on the right side of the start line. I got the best of it — regardless of how I can finish, these days apparently I sure can start. The breeze continued to build, and at the first mark I was in first place.

But Steve passed me on the second leg, a close reach, and Dennis came up close behind. As we rounded the second mark, Steve set a course to, and then along, North Island. We were in a strong ebb tide, and Steve was trying to avoid it as best he could. But Dennis went out into the middle of the bay. I followed Steve but, tide or no tide, Dennis kicked our butts. Within a space of perhaps ten minutes, he was at least 30 boat lengths ahead.

So I altered course to go out into the bay, where the tide may have been stronger, but so was the wind. I began to catch Dennis; I began to leave Steve behind; but the wind began to drop. By the time it dropped to nothing (my GPS read 0.0 knots of boat speed), I was ahead of Dennis, well ahead of Steve, and the others weren’t even a consideration.

But now the true breeze filled in — from behind. This meant that every boat gained ground while I drifted, waiting for wind. (By the way, “gained ground” is the term I hear used, but why? Shouldn’t it be “gained water”?) I imagine there is no more frustrating sensation on this planet.

Here’s where Steve’s stay-out-of-the-current strategy paid off. Once the wind reached all of us and we were all moving well, he moved a little better. And a little at any moment adds up to a lot after many moments; by the time he reached the downwind mark he was very safely in first. I reached it in second, Dennis in third, and the others once more not even a consideration.

Now it was close-hauled sailing to the finish. I suffered a “moment” — actually about three minutes — during which I couldn’t point or move the boat at all well, and Dennis caught and passed me. But then, as we continued to sail, I gained ground (there’s that word again). It all came down to a single crossing — I on starboard, Dennis on port — on which our boats were inches apart. A puff hit us and my boat rounded up naturally onto a course that would have led me to hit him. And I had right of way….

But I already owed Harbor Sailboats for a new bow pulpit. What’s more, I suddenly recalled: This race didn’t matter. He had to put five boats between me and him in order to pass me in the overall standings. So, I turned down, passed behind him, and ended up taking third in the race, but second overall in the regatta. First went to Steve, and Steve: Congratulations!

New Class Legal Equipment Unveiled for 2006

Race Three

Sure there was a race last Saturday, and there are results to report, but let’s skip straight to the good stuff: the most spectacular collision I’ve ever seen.

Bear in mind, I’ve seen more than a couple in the last couple of years (and, in fact, been involved in a few of them). Even Tom Hirsh, the guy who owns the boats we race and who has publicly proclaimed something close to a you-bang-em-you-buy-em policy, mentioned privately just last week that “if you don’t crash now and again you’re just not trying hard enough.” But this was a doozy.

A cutter called the Californian, the official “tall ship” of the state of California and a beast of some 130 tons, often cruises San Diego Bay. This particular day, it was out and about along with another sailing ship — name and exact size, I regret to say, unknown, but it was nearly as large, and let’s call it the Phantom. The two were scheduled to go out and blast cannons (plenty of gunpowder, no actual balls) at each other the next day, and they were, I suppose, warming up.

And there we were — “we” being myself and Midshipman Krabby Kyle — close-hauled on the final leg of our race, battling it out with archrival Steve McNally for first. We were on port tack, and I could see that the Phantom was on collision course on starboard. He had, in other words, right of way. But you know what? That didn’t matter. The law of gross tonnage applied here, and I was going to get out of his way. We tacked, and it cost us, and we were annoyed that we had to tack, but all was well.

Now, the Chapman brothers were in our race. As it happens, I am the only person to have entered a boat in these races longer and more regularly than they have. They’re established. But they have a record — a “crash-to-takeoff ratio,” as Tom put it in that private conversation, far exceeding that of any other entrant. They’re also remarkably uneven sailors; sometimes they’re way back in the fleet, and sometimes they contend for first. This was one of the latter occasions. They’d led much of the race and, only in a late leg, had fallen into a close third.

So, a minute or two after we were clear of the Phantom, I heard a noise. I looked back. There were the Chapmans, in exactly the same situation in which I had found myself a few minutes before, except apparently they’d never heard of the law of gross tonnage. (Admittedly, it’s a concept that’s essentially intuitive; I doubt it appears in any rule book.) They were crossing before the Phantom, on port to its starboard (as if that mattered!), and they had already made contact — hence the noise. The Chapman’s mast and the ship’s bowsprit had fouled, and I watched their mast being literally ripped right off their boat.

Hoochie Mamma! But, amazingly, there was no hull-to-hull contact, and no one was hurt. Even so, I turned back to offer any help we could (a decision that seemed obvious to me). It took less than a minute to reach them and to have them convince us they were ok and wave us back into the race, but by then we had no chance of catching Steve. (And in fairness to Steve, we likely would not have caught him anyway.) But the turning back led us to be caught by another boat, and we ended up in third.

So, in the final race a week from this Saturday, it seems highly unlikely that I’ll catch Steve (I’d need to beat him by four boats), and even less likely that the third-place boat will catch me. So it looks like it will be a nice, leisurely affair resulting in a second overall. Providing, of course, that I don’t run into anything……

Howdy pardners

the game ended in a tie, 2-2 if i recall. and ain't that a real nice tie.

Coincidence? I Think Not!

It all began with AWA713. Then (years later, I admit), I bought my first Accord and received at random a license plate on which the letter characters were MLC. Then Ross got his VKK license plate. Now the state of California has finally sent me the plates for my new car: 5RLS868. I want to know how come they left out the D?

Mark Your Calendars

Only 47 days 10 hours 56 minutes until the December 14th release of the 3 hour long King Kong remake!

Race Two

What could be more different? Gray, overcast, drizzly skies where the previous race day was sunny; light (almost no) wind when before there was plenty; and in place of the experienced Kyle, a jib trimmer who, it turned out, would be stepping into a sailboat for the very first time. Still, my lucky hat remained the same; let’s see what it could do for me.

First, the new crew (to introduce him) was Tyler Olmstead, a fellow Aikido student. After working out with him for several years, I knew that he possesses considerable stores of balance, timing, and natural physical ability, so despite his inexperience, I was confident. And by the end of the day, I was not at all disappointed.

We sailed another random-leg course, but because the wind was light, this course was considerably shorter than the first one (a fact that will resonate later in the story). The course meandered here and there through San Diego Bay, and, in an unusual touch, ended right off the Harbor Sailboats dock. This meant leaving the wide bay and traversing relatively narrow passages around the western tip of Harbor Island and then down its northern side.

Unlike the first race, this one decidedly favored a starboard-tack start, and we got the best of it. Midway up the first leg, though, we had a little “crew training” moment, which was enough to allow one boat, skippered by a guy named Dennis Burks, to reach the first mark just before us. That first mark was red 20, quite close to what is at that point the southern bank of the bay (called North Island; go figure). As so often happens, Dennis and I focused on one another, reaching out toward the middle of the bay, and let a third boat sail off on another heading, along North Island, to pass us. That would be our old pal Steve McNally. But before he could go too far on his own, I broke off to cover him while Dennis continued on to the left. The result was that Steve was first to the second mark, I was a close second, and others were farther behind.

Rounding that second mark (red 22, once again in case you have a chart), I managed to turn inside of Steve, and we were neck and neck. From here it was a long dash to the finish, close-hauled most of the way. (There was another mark along the way, but the course to the finish made it almost impossible to miss, so we pretty much ignored it.) At times, I was ahead of Steve; at times, he was ahead of me; and as we focused on one another (do I never learn?), Dennis came up into contention. As we approached that narrow passage around Harbor Island, they were both a bit ahead of me, but I was farther upwind and so narrowly in first.

When, doh! I tacked toward the passage around the tip of Harbor Island and discovered that I had miscalled the lay line. Needing therefore to make two extra tacks, I watched both Steve and then Dennis go by me.

But it wasn’t over yet. Close reaching around the western tip of the island, Steve and Dennis took each other a little wide, and I gained. Then broad reaching down the northern side of the island, I seemed to get my sails set a little better than the others. I didn’t have a chance to catch Steve (who ended up finishing first), but as I approached the finish line, I heard a voice from Dennis’s boat — “Oh no!” — as I came along side him with much better speed. And it ended .... with Dennis about a foot ahead of me. If the race course had been ten yards longer, I would have taken second. But I got an exciting third instead.

And so, with two races down and two to go, it’s McNally with three points, Christie with four, and the next nearest competitor with eight.

As long as we're on the topic of etymology

As long as we're on the topic of etymology:

"'Every man meets his Waterloo at last,' wrote the nineteenth-century American moralist Wendell Phillips, and the phrase has indeed slipped into the English language to imply that there is a fate, an inescapable destiny, awaiting us all." Andrew Roberts, Waterloo: The Battle for Modern Europe (HarperCollins, 2005).

So - the next time you're playing Hearts, think of the three-threes as a matter of morality.

Eat it & have it or Have it & eat it ?

I was net surfing and came across this:


[Q] From Colin Rogers and Alison Braid-Skolski: “We are perplexed by the confusing phrase have your cake and eat it. I have always thought this a common misconception and it should be eat your cake and have it?”

[A] Whoever expected English idioms to be logical? The usual way in which one sees this one is as the negative you can’t have your cake and eat it, expressing the idea that you have to make an either/or choice, that you can’t reconcile two mutually incompatible situations. It would be a little clearer if it were written as you can’t both have your cake and eat it. It would be more obviously the same as the other form if you also rewrote that as you can’t eat your cake and still have it.

Quite why the saying has settled on this form isn’t clear. I learned it as a youth as you can’t eat your cake and have it, too, and there are more examples in my databases that way than in the can’t have your cake and eat it inversion. Those who first used it certainly agreed with your sense of logic. Though presumably rather older, it is first written down in John Heywood’s A Dialogue Conteynyng Prouerbes and Epigrammes of 1562: “Wolde ye bothe eate your cake, and haue your cake?”. John Keats quoted it as eat your cake and have it at the beginning of his poem On Fame in 1816; Franklin D Roosevelt borrowed it in that form for his State of the Union Address in 1940; a search of nineteenth-century literature shows it to be about twice as common as the other. But a quick Google search shows the have your cake and eat it form is now about ten times as frequent, and all my dictionaries of idioms and proverbs cite it that way.

One of life’s little mysteries, I suppose. But whichever way you say it, you can be sure that it will be understood. So there’s no need to worry much over the logic!

It’s All in the Hat

You know the story. I bought a Harvey Cedars Marina hat, I wore it while taking two firsts on the first day of the Barnegat Light Regatta, I cavalierly gave the hat to Linda and bought a new one, only to have Linda clobber me in every race on the second day of the regatta. Obvious conclusion: I’d given away my luck along with the hat. The new chapeau was a dog.

Well not so fast...

I’ve been crewing quite a bit on Valhalla all the remainder of the summer, but I haven’t had a chance to skipper my own boat until last Saturday; working up in Irvine has prevented me from taking part in the Tuesday evening Capri 22 races. At long last, however, the racing shifted from Tuesdays to Saturdays, and there I was, with Midshipman Krabby Kyle as my able crew (he having found that his usual skipper has his own work-schedule conflicts). And I was wearing my second Harvey Cedars Marina hat. Yeah, my dog was barkin’.

There was a fairly strong breeze more or less out of the south — didn’t have an anemometer handy, but it was enough to raise whitecaps on a deepwater bay and make it something of a challenge to handle a small boat with enough sail area to be easily overpowered.

And on that breezy day we had a “random leg” race, stretching somewhere between 10 to 15 nautical miles around channel buoys in San Diego bay. (From off the eastern half of Harbor Island across the bay to red 20; on to green 15, about halfway between the southern end of Shelter Island and the end of Point Loma; back again to FM 19, off the eastern tip of Harbor Island; down to red 26 on the other side of the San Diego–Coronado Bridge; back to FM19; and then finishing where we started. Just in case you happen to have a chart.)

The start unequivocally favored a port tack, but of the eight boats sailing, only three of us seemed to notice. Of the three, I got the best start (I’m delighted to say), with Jon Miyate above but behind me on the unfavored end of a lee-bow placement, and Steve McNalley alongside but below me. The other five effectively put themselves out of the race at the start. (Although Traci Miller, a Valhalla shipmate skippering one of the starboard-tack starters, did manage to finish in third when all was said and done.) There were a couple of tacks along the way, but at red 20 Kyle and I were in first place.

Then it got interesting. The route from red 20 to green 15 was, for more than a mile, close-hauled on port tack; then (owing to the shape of the bay; our course had been westerly but veered into the south and into the wind) a quick starboard tack and another quick port tack. Along that long port tack, Jon neither gained nor fell behind, but Steve steadily gained, and gained, and gained, and finally got about a boat length ahead and upwind of me. But he took his starboard tack the moment he could, and I split tacks with him, staying on port perhaps five to ten minutes longer. By the time I went over to starboard and he came back onto port, I crossed ten boat lengths ahead of him. We talked later, and neither of us knew why. Maybe I hit a favorable current. Maybe it was my hat.

But anyway, the suspense ends there. Once I rounded the second mark (ahead), almost all the rest of the way was off the wind — beam to broad reach. Perhaps because I pay better attention to the trim of my sails (ask Kyle how often I made him make adjustments; I’d say about every 10 seconds), or have more experience sailing off the wind, or both, I just pulled away from everyone. Really, for your entertainment if for no other reason I wish I could make this more exciting, but I led by a lot at every mark — 10 to 20 lengths ahead of Steve and more than are worth counting ahead of everyone else.

(Yikes! Am I tempting fate! Allow me to remind you that I am an undistinguished technical writer and my Aikido is laughable.)

So, there’s nothing wrong with my hat after all. Of course, that means I can no longer blame it for my loss in the Barnegat Light Regatta. So let me say this: All you Harbor Sailboats racers, if you thought I was tough, just be glad you didn’t have to sail against my sister!

Port !

set-up1, originally uploaded by rosschristie.

Imagine a very fast boat (Stars & Stripes) at least twice as large as this one that is coming at you on port tack while you are in a considerably smaller sailboat on a starboard tack. You have the right of way but does the other boat really see you? And it keeps getting closer and closer......

On Sunday, Dave took us (Emma, her friend Sarah, Kyle & I) out on Blue Canoe, a 32 foot Ericson. I was a beautiful day for sailing and we went out a few miles into the Pacific and seemed to own the ocean. Unfortunately, Sarah began feeling the effects of the ocean swells and so we returned to San Diego Bay for a more comfortable afternoon of sailing. Still, a beautiful day, a nice boat, plenty to eat and drink, who could ask for anything more? As we sailed around the bay we were accompanied by two America's Cup Yachts, Stars & Stripes and Abracadabra that take interested passengers for a thrilling ride up and down the bay. Even though we would be moving along at times at a pretty good clip, 6 1/2 to 7 knots, these big boys would go right past us as if we were anchored. Well, early in the afternoon we were on a starboard tack and heading toward the Coronado Bridge when Stars & Stripes began a port tack run in our direction. It is amazing how quickly that boat can move over water! And it is amazing how nervous you can be as it gets closer and closer and you start to wonder if they see you and are they going to go in front or behind or straight into you? Should we hold our course or go into evasive maneuvers? Or just jump ship and swim for it? I guess that they were just kind of playing chicken with us but we didn't chicken out! They ended up going behind us like a rocket.

Skipper Dave with nerves of steel, true and brave, steady on the wheel, the good sailing vessel Blue Canoe, starboard! or not, an able bodied crew, is that a yacht or a Guernsey Cow?, we crossed Stars & Stripes bow!!!

Fair Warnings

Saturday was a beautiful, warm early autumn day on old Cape Cod, with blue skies and a good strong wind as we waited around to start power washing my friend's house in Truro, where Cher just happened to be sitting in the garage, and a boat launching ramp into Cape Cod Bay just happened to be down the road about a 1/4 mile (if that). Erica stayed home with the napping twins, Rosemary and Gretchen went off in search of lunch, and I of course headed down to the water with my $10 in hand to pay the harbormaster. "What's that you got there? A kayak?" I paused, wondering how I should answer, as a kayak only costs $5 to launch.

I figured no sense irritating the old guy who would undoubtedly notice that my kayak had a sail, so I fessed up that it was in fact a sunfish. "A sunfish!! You wouldn't catch me out there on a sunfish today. No sirree. Them's winds are 30 miles per hour out there." Hmm I thought, I can handle it! After all, I am a 3-time winner of the Barnegat Light Regatta. "You sure you can handle it?" Yes. "You gonna unload that boat all by yourself?" Yes. OK now I am tiring of all the questioning but I offer "I won't be out long - I have other stuff to do today, I'll be back soon". Now the other old salt in the corner who hasn't said anything so far adds the stern warning: "IF you come back!"

I went out, had a lovely sail, and did come back to tell the tale.

Watch out in 2006

Linda's got a brand new crew!

I lost my toy

ok so we decided that it really is ridiculous to have 3 vehicles and one of them had to go. :-(

I've Got a New Toy

What do I like best about my new Prius hybrid car?

Maybe it's the keyless entry. You just walk up to the beastie and, providing you've got the LEG (that's "little electronic gizmo") in your pocket, the car just unlocks itself.

Nah... Maybe it's the performance. You tool along the freeway at 75 MPH or so, under cruise control of course, listening to the CD player, enjoying plenty of space and comfort — just like a real car!

But then, maybe it's that moment when you're driving along, minding your own business, and suddenly you can hear the gasoline engine shut off. There's a moment of panic, inspired by years of experience driving obsolete cars. But then the car just keeps going, and you remember it's got an electric engine too.

But no, the best thing is driving along, setting the LCD panel to display performance statistics, and reading "99.9 MPG." Yeah, that's pretty good......

Two Trophies Make it to Boston

Next year, on LBI?

Saw *this* on the sunfish forum today...

Cape Cod Expedition

Yesterday, Rosemary and I successfully navigated aboard Cher, world famous 14' yacht, from Pamet Harbor (Truro, Massachusetts) to Provincetown Harbor (and back!). It was only our second attempt, having turned back the previous day before reaching our goal, fearing that we would not make it back in time before dark and extreme low tide. This time however, fully stocked with provisions, cell phones, and cash, we made it to the beach in P-Town and were able to secure one frozen mocha freddo and one frozen chai freddo from the "Wired Puppy", check our email and head home. On our way home we encountered the tall ship Kalmar Nyckel.

Montclair: 1; Ramapo: 0

Last night, in a closely-fought game, the Montclair High varsity soccer team defeated perennially powerful Ramapo High varsity soccer team by a score of 1-0. GO BLUE!!!

Sadly, the Montclair freshman squad was defeated by its Ramapo counterpart. But starting (and full-game playing) centerback Graham Christie was singled out after the game by Montclair coach Stu Ball for excellence in his play.

The visitors cheering squad was sparsely attended, due to the traveling distance. But die-hard soccer fan Marge Christie has, once again, stepped out in front of the crowd. You've heard of the Soccer Mom? Well, the original soccer mom is now the Soccer Grandma!

The August Series

Sailboat racing is a humbling exercise. Sometimes you think that you know what you are doing and everything goes well. Other times you think that you know what you are doing and all goes wrong. Then again, you might think that you don't know anything and find out either that you are correct or quite suprisingly that you know more than you think that you know. There are probably more possibilities & philosophical viewpoints than these four mentioned but they pretty much cover my sailing experience in August.

At the Harbor Sailboats Club in August we had four successive Tuesday evenings of racing of three races each.

8/02
An example of 'think that I know...& all goes wrong.'

After finishing an unexciting 4th out of ten boats in the first race Kyle and I get a very good start in the second race. But more importantly, I was watching the light wind condition change so that the better air was coming from the left side while the right side of the course was dead. So, by starting on the left side our boat and the only other boat on the left side had a big advantage. Four minutes into the race we were moving ahead surely and were 30 to 40 boat lengths ahead of everyone and on what I thought was the layline to the upwind mark. We were looking back at everybody and laughing. So, we tacked.......and stopped. No wind. And worse than that everyone else had some wind now. In fact, the wind was slowly coming to us from the direction of the other boats. By the time the wind reached us everyone had pretty much caught up to us. We had a slight lead overall at the mark but the wind was so light that maintaing any speed going downwind was extremely difficult especially being surrounded by all these sailboats. I can remember plenty of times before when I rounded the upwind mark in 6th or 7th place and passed a bunch of boats going downwind. Well, this night almost everybody passed me. We finished 8th.

The next race was still very light air. We reached the top mark in 3rd but felt like we were dragging an anchor downwind and took another 8. We ended with a humiliating 20 points on the night. And I thought that I liked to sail in light air. With 20 points we are basically dead in the August series. I was so down, I told Kyle that I'm finished, can't do it anymore. "That's my last race." From now on I'm just going to sail for fun. Why ruin sailing by suffering the frustrations of racing. I quit.

8/09
Kyle talked me into racing again. Lets just race for fun. Whatever happens, happens. Lets not be over-competitive. Just enjoy the moment. After all it's better than being at work which is where I would be if I didn't leave early to go race. Lets just clear our minds, relax and sail. And so, we get a 1st, a 2nd and a 1st. And the 2nd was only by about a foot and a half. We sailed so fast and so well that I really don't remember much about it. Why would I ever think about quitting racing? It's fun! I think this was a "don't know anything but surpisingly you do" experience.

8/16
Tonight we have a genuine 'rock star' join our crew. For weeks Dave has been saying that he misses racing on Tuesday nights with the club and so finally he takes a day off and joins the party. In the first race we size up our competition and decide who we want to beat most then we gain a favorable position on him in the pre-start and off we go. Dave steers and Kyle & I crew. We achieve our goal and finish fourth, 3 boats ahead of our chosen competition and so we move up in the standings. In race #2, Kyle steers and does well. The wind is medium strength and it is a good thing that Dave & I have the weight to stabilize the boat. We finish 3rd, but our 'target' finishes first. He's good. Race #3, 3 legs, Kyle still steering, we beat our competition to the upwind mark (we are in second) but he passes us going downwind. On the beat to the finish we are slightly behind him and tack away. The next time we cross, we are ahead and we finish the race in second place and second overall for the night. Kyle steers beautifully and Dave's crew work is impeccable and his tactical calls are excellent. I think this was a "we know what we are doing and everything went well" experience. Have I mentioned that I really like racing? We celebrate in a Mexican restaurant with muchos Margaritas and an iced Tea for Kyle.

8/23
This is the last night of the series. We are tied for first in points with Matt and just one point ahead of Steve and five points ahead of Bob. First place in the series gets the big trophy and a name on the clubhouse wall. (Dave is there nine times!)

The wind is light and that's o.k. We sail nicely upwind (3 boats were over at the start and called back but we stayed clear) and reach the mark in second place just behind Bob. Matt is right behind us. Bob sails into some choppy water and we reach off left as does Matt. We reach back on starboard now and are slightly in first place with Denny running down mid-couse on port. We intercept Denny and declare our rights as a starboard boat but he refuses to get clear of us. He is basically fouling us but my real race is with Matt and so I jibe to cover him and we finish second to Denny with Bob third and Matt fourth. Steve is fifth. We are now two points ahead of Matt, four points ahead of Steve and six points ahead of Bob. We are feeling good! This is our night.

In the second race we get on top of Matt at the start and pretty much smother his sails but we are not sailing that well by focusing on him and so we tack away to get better speed. Except that the speed doesn't come. We try some adjustments but never really get going too well. We approach the layline on port in about fifth place with a starboard boat coming across us. Here I make my big mistake. I should have crossed behind the starboard boat but instead I tacked and I was under the layline with no place to go. By the time I was able to tack back all other boats passed me. I rounded the mark in last place and slow and never caught up with anyone. Hello 8th place and 8 points. Inconceivable! Steve finished first and Matt 4th. Uh oh.

Last race, three legs, we get a good clear start but still the boat is not moving that well. We tack and tack again to get something going but never get into our 'good groove' which is what really makes it happen for us. We are basically scratching and clawing our way upwind and get to the mark in second place behind Bob and just in front of Steve (which is always a good thing). The wind is very light now and we are all slow going downwind except that Matt is moving a little better where he is. We round the downwind mark in third, behind Matt and Bob (who bumps us after we gave him room, a foul which he ignores even after both Steve and I call it out) but ahead of Steve. And here begins the slowest leg of my life. What is going on? I can't steer (yes, I am steering now instaed of Kyle - what a mistake) at all. I'm not pinching, I'm not falling off...I really don't know what I'm doing. I'm choking actually. Nothing is going right. I really just can't move the boat. Where is my wind? Oh no, I'm having a "I don't think I know anything and I truly don't" experience. Everyone else is pointing better and going faster except one boat that actually manages to sail slower than I do. So we finish seventh for the race and the day. Yikes.

A small consolation.....we end up with 50 points, one better than Bob, and get the little 3rd place trophy. Steve gets second and Matt gets first. Matt was so happy that he did a little dance in the parking lot. I don't think anyone else saw it.

It has Arrived!

thanks dave! i owe ya 20 bucks!! plus postage!!! would you settle for 2 or 3 white's subs?

for caroline....

DSC_0019
Originally uploaded by lindachr.

saw this handsome fellow and immediately thought of you!

More Hats Than You Can Shake a Stick At

And yours is on its way!

Presentation of the Trophy

Last years winners



present the trophy



to this years winner!

Surfin' USA

All over Beach Haven and down Holgate way............the waves finally were great today! The tide change from low to high created two hours of great waves and Kyle & I worked them until our arms couldn't paddle for another. Actually, Kyle caught twice as many waves as I did. You should have been there. Tomorrow should also be a good wave day.

Talisman: An object marked with magic signs and believed to confer on its bearer supernatural powers or protection.

In a maelstrom of controversy, unparalleled by any of the previously thought contentious regattas, yours truly nevertheless came back from a dismal showing in the club’s “practice races” to secure the trophy amidst bad feeling and hurt pride. Day one, slightly less tumultuous than day two, was aided by able committee person Cathie and her inferior air horn. With Dave securing a tenuous first place at the end of the day, Linda and Ross (once again assisted by his able crew Caroline) tied for second, and Stuart and Kyle in close pursuit, it was anybody’s game. But the second day of racing spelled trouble for our earlier frontrunner, as Linda managed to cross the line first in all three races.

She attributes her remarkable success to three factors: unchecked confusion, rampant frustration and her assorted collection of talismans. “I knew that if I brought my plastic Madonna and lucky Sponge Bob shorts I could relax and everything would fall into place” she remarked. “In the interest of fairness and full disclosure, I let my opponents know about the Madonna but I chose to keep the shorts a secret.” The others apparently arrived without any such articles. In fact, Dave graciously relinquished his brand new “lucky Harvey Cedars Marina hat” to Linda the day before, not realizing its full potential.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the intimidation factor of Linda’s new class-legal sail numbers.

Most improved goes to Skipper Kyle, who pulled off an impressive second place finish in one race while at the same time managing to not capsize.

A Baseball Story

we have no internet access!

so no email, no blogging till maybe saturday if the phone gets fixed. mom and i are at an internet cafe in ship bottom right now. see you saturday.....

Who will be next

The King

Uuggga Booggga Kong!

Upgrades, anyone?

Class Approved Sunfish Upgrades

After final testing at the 2005 World Championships, two new International Sunfish Class approved upgrades for the Sunfish are available now.

Fiberglass Rudder Blade: The design profile for the fiberglass blade is the same as the wood model, with great surface finish and shape. The fiberglass blade also provides excellent durability. All future Sunfish Worlds Boats and Sunfish Pro Boats will be equipped from the factory with the FRP rudder blade. The new Fiberglass rudder blade is also available as an after market item.

Mast Sleeve: Sleeves for stiffening and strengthening the mast are now installed on all Sunfish masts. The stiffener consists of an aluminum sleeve inside the bottom of the mast section that inhibits lower mast bend for a stiffer more durable mast. A mast sleeve retrofit kit is available to equip previously purchased masts.

Checklist

1) At least 4 sailboats
2) A Kayak with anchor
3) Toolbox
4) Another toolbox
5) Markers for the course
6) 50 feet of hose & a nozzle
7) One half dozen sponges (large)
8) A strap or 30 feet of rope for cradle
9) Extension cord for hoist
10) Beer
11) Sunscreen
12) Beer
13) Shark repellant
14) Beer
15) Ice Chest
16) Knee brace (Stu)
17) PFD (Dave)
18) Defibrillator (Ross)
19) Trophy (Linda)

Is it possible to pinch a solar wind?

For those of you who don't read the Wall Street Journal on a regular basis, I recommend you to today's issue and, in particular, the Section B Science Journal article entitled "Mission on the Cheap Will Launch Spaceship That Uses Solar Sails." You have to pay a subscription fee for online service - this is the Wall Street Journal after all!

This coming Tuesday, Cosmos I will be blasting off out of a Russian nuclear submarine somewhere underneath the Barents Sea. Four days later (it is hoped), the rocket will pop open and eight 49-foot-long triangular sails (6,500 sq. ft. of sail area) will emerge and, if it works, the ship will be propelled by nothing more than the solar wind (apparently a space sailboat can reach speeds of 10,000 mph). And I still have difficulties raising the sail on a sunfish!

According to the Journal, "[a]s maneuverable as the sails on water-borne ships, solar sails can tack, which in theory means they could make ports of call at any planet." Of course it's in theory; can't you just imagine a skipper, traveling at 10,000 mph over the millions of miles of interstellar space, screaming "Ready about?" and his faithful crew yelling back "No! You're too early!"?

And when I asked for a second opinion, he said . . .

So . . . three weeks ago (the 17th), I was playing soccer in my usual competitive Tuesday night game. We were ahead by a couple of goals, but we've lost in this circumstance too many times before to take things easy. One of their strikers beats one of our defenders, so I slid over to pick him up. We both chased the ball at full speed, except (lucky me!) I got there first. He crashed straight into me - knee to knee - and I went down like a ton of bricks. I (literally) dragged myself off the pitch (because I couldn't bend my knee). As the sensation slowly came back, I decided to ice it down and apply a little medicinal alcohol. I called the local orthopedist the next morning, but he can't see me until the following Monday (the 23rd). Instead, I checked into the hospital for xrays (nothing's broken). Almost a week later, the orthopedist looks at me for all of about 5 minutes, tells me the medical equivalent of "somethin's hittin' somethin"' and sends me for an MRI. I immediately call for an appointment from the parking lot, but of course I need a precertification from the HMO, which doesn't come through for another 4 days (the 24th, aka the Friday of Memorial Day). I immediately call the radiologist, but there's no time available for an entire week (June 3rd). I get my MRI, and now I have to wait until the following Wednesday (the 8th) to go back to see the orthopedist (fortunately, I was smart enough to make the appointment before having the MRI). So it takes almost a month for me to find out that I have a "grade III peripheral tear in the posterior horn of the medial meniscus associated with complete anterior cruciate ligament tear, grade I mcl sprain, tibial plateau bone bruise and large joint effusion" - aka, a torn acl. But I'm not going in for surgery until after this year's regatta is over. After all, first things first!

The Second Annual Marge Christie Memorial Day Croquet Open

It was a beautiful day for the open - cool temperatures amid clear, sunny skies. With the south course temporarily taken out of commission, the decision was made to set up a short course on the east lawn. The grass was cut long, so a slow game was predicted. Graham (playing the black ball) leaps out to an early lead, but Caroline (playing blue) stays with him to the first stake. Stuart (playing red) roars past them as they struggle between themselves and looks to take an easy win . . . but wait! He gets caught in a bad lie in the mid-course trap! Steady strokes by Caroline lead to a lovely first-round victory, one stroke ahead of Stuart, who (finally out of the trap) just barely finishes a stroke ahead of Graham. Lauren (playing yellow, with some assistance from Cathie and her traditional playing stance) plays a solid game for fourth place, and Mom (playing green, and with a late start) comes in at the end. Game two, and all eyes are on Caroline. She jumps out to an early lead, but an unfortunate series of misstrokes leaves her stranded in the mid-course. Graham and Stuart race to the first stake and engage in a ferocious battle of ball-hitting. While they waste their precious strokes, Cathie (with her partner cheering her on) catches up at the stake, with Mom close behind. Caroline (finally out of the trap) gets back into the game, but it will prove to be too late for her. Graham, realizing the error of his ways, powers his way through the high grass and through the ninth and tenth wickets. Cathie and Stuart are left with no options but to try and keep up . . . but to no avail. Graham closes out the game nicely, a clear stroke ahead of Stuart who finishes one stroke ahead of Cathie. Mom closes out with a solid fourth and Caroline, despite a strong run from behind, ends up with a fifth.

The 28th Annual Oceanside to Southwestern Yacht Race

Kyle and I have been racing regularly on Tuesday evenings on San Diego Bay with the Harbor Sailboats Club. Usually all 14 boats compete in three races and we have been fortunate enough to actually finish first in a couple of races. Kyle mostly steers and I do all the crew stuff. Kyle is learning fast and we are getting to be pretty competitive. Mistakes are made of course but we are learning from our mistakes. We did pretty well in May and finished the series second over all.

Last week Kyle and I were invited by a club member and major racing competitor, Steve McNally (an excellent sailor and fine gentleman), to sail in a 36 mile ocean race from Oceanside to Point Loma aboard a 47 foot sailboat (El Sueno) of which he is a regular crew member. We gladly accepted the invitation. So, on Sunday May 29 we became the ninth & tenth members of El Sueno's crew. Kyle, because he is young and perhaps an up & coming sailing star, got the royal treatment by Brad Alberts, the skipper & owner. Kyle got a special tour of the boat, an explanation of the instruments, the sails, he got to steer the boat in the race, sit along side Brad and discuss tactics and he got to trim the spinnaker. I got to grind winches and help haul in the spinnaker during a sail change and of course sit on the rail. Actually I enjoyed every minute of it to the max. It was like a dream come true. It was work but it was fun. And, neither Kyle nor I fell overboard which was my only fear. There were times that we got the boat moving at 9+ knots which is pretty fast. There were some 'yahoos' from the crew when we really got going!

One cool thing is that of the 50 or so boats in the regatta we were part of a class of 11 boats including a boat named Valhalla of which Dave was a crew member. Although we were the first boat to cross the finish line, because we were one of the biggest boats we were handicapped to a corrected time whereby we gave time to smaller boats to allow for the differences in sizes & speed ratios, and therefore we ended finishing in fifth place in our class. What a great day!

RESULTS FOR CLASS PHRF-3
START DATE: 05/29/2005 START TIME: 11:30:00 DISTANCE: 38.25
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PLC HCAP SAIL# BOAT SKIPPER TYPE CLUB FINISH ELAPSED CORRECTED MARGIN
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1 78.00 42733 MALEFICENT CHRIS BENNETT BEN425 CRA 29/16:29:30 4:59:30 4:09:47 LEAD
2 84.00 56266 VALHALLA A&C RASDAL BEN367 SWYC 29/16:50:39 5:20:39 4:27:06 0:17:19
3 72.00 67745 MASQUERADE TIM COKER CHOATE SGYC 29/16:46:16 5:16:16 4:30:22 0:20:35
4 36.00 69408 MISTRESS TOM LAFLEUR SWAN53 SDYC 29/16:23:22 4:53:22 4:30:25 0:20:38
5 18.00 46307 EL SUENO BRAD ALBERTS BEN477 CRA 29/16:13:07 4:43:07 4:31:39 0:21:52
6 96.00 52266 DELIVERANCE DAN SWETT HUNT41 MBYC 29/17:03:44 5:33:44 4:32:32 0:22:45
7 81.00 36764 ARIEL ASARO/SIMON/VORGE BEN367 SDYC 29/16:54:26 5:24:26 4:32:48 0:23:01
8 24.00 51477 COUP D'ETAT RON ELSASSER BEN477 SWYC 29/16:19:23 4:49:23 4:34:05 0:24:18
9 84.00 7085 SORDINO JEFF LASTOFKA BEN376 OYC 29/17:00:53 5:30:53 4:37:20 0:27:33
10 72.00 37133 SAUDADE STEVE LINK S&S47 OYC 29/17:04:11 5:34:11 4:48:17 0:38:30
11 66.00 56345 TE MATAU GREG RITTER BEN473 SWYC 29/17:15:26 5:45:26 5:03:22 0:53:35

Kyle

Kyle 2005, originally uploaded by rosschristie.

Here is a picture of the player who led his team, The Predators, in scoring (5 goals & 7 assists).

Dang that's a big fish

24catfish650
Originally uploaded by lindachr.

big news at the GSP

Widening of Parkway Is Planned on Jersey Shore...

Garden State Parkway upgrade: Good or Bad?
	It's about time!
	45 years too late...
	Traffic? What traffic?
	Exit 63 baby, I'm there!
	Grumble... Grumble... change. bad.
Free polls from Pollhost.com

The Next Generation

I told you that Kyle can sail faster than I can ! Watch out this summer, I think he's getting serious about the Barnegat Light Regatta.

a bit larger for those of us with over 50 eyesight?

CoverGirl

CoverGirl, originally uploaded by rosschristie.

Look, there's mom on the cover!

And the winners of the 2005 Barnegat Light Regatta are . . .

The Ivory-billed Woodpecker

28ivory, originally uploaded by rosschristie.

Back from (presumed) extinction, a live Ivory-billed woodpecker has been confirmed in a swamp in Arkansas.

See 4/28/05 NY Times article....Click here

"What's with all the sand?"

Yes, that's what mom wondered aloud as she got out of her car after arriving in boston...

On the front page of the Boston Globe today was a picture of the bottom of our street!

We're trying to pretend we really live on Long Beach Island. But there is no White's and no Carousel. No Barney either. Plenty of water in our basement but no boogie boarding and no sailing.

a message from mom!!

With the help of Linda actually working inside my computer, I think I've finally got it! It's beautiful weather here -- a little cool but sunny and I'm about to go sit on the patio and read some more of the Hillary Clinton book which I'm really enjoying. It almost reads like having a conversation with her. Then back to this computer where I have waiting something like 45 unread messages -- most of them rehash of stuff I don't want to hear anymore, but you never know when something I need to know is right there in the middle of it all.

Dave, how was the first week of work? And, you never told me what I owe you for Emma's birthday gift -- many thanks of course for doing my shopping.

At long last

Hello bloggers!!!

Let's Go to Whites

Like so many Americans, I'm at least conscious, if not exactly worried, about my weight. In my case, it would be nice to drop 20 pounds or so if only because that would make me more competitive on a Sunfish.

So today I open my paper — that source of all knowledge — and my eye goes immediately to the headline, "Some Extra Heft May Be Helpful." Huh?, I say. And the lead sentence replies, "People who are overweight but not obese have a lower risk of death than those of normal weight, federal researchers are reporting today."

True, it didn't exactly say go faster in Sunfish sailboats, but still, dude, pass the crullers!

Stuart Andrew

Co` latha breith sona dhuibh!

I've Got Good News and I've Got Bad News

The good news is: I'm employed! I start Monday at a software company called Logical Apps. I answered their ad last Tuesday evening, was contacted on Wednesday morning, went for an interview on Thursday, and received an offer today. I guess they liked me.

I'm still not altogether sure what they do, but it has something to do with developing applications that regulate back-office business processes, and I'm sure it's very very important. It's a small company (65-70 people), which in my mind is a good thing, and I will be the entire technical publications department — manager, writer, editor, and general factotum. The company is located in Irvine (Orange County), which, oddly enough, is also a good thing: I can take a train and read the Times in relaxation while all the other poor suckers are slogging it out on the freeway. The best thing, of course, is that I'll have an actual income once again and get to support my daughter and keep my house and all that good stuff.

The bad news is: I'm employed! No more waking up at 8:00 and spending a few hours drinking coffee, reading the paper, and doing crosswords, I guess. Oh well, perhaps that's not so bad after all. But since I'm starting Monday, you can guess I'll be going sailing tomorrow. (Maybe Friday too.)

P.S. I've already secured at least a week of time off in July.

The 50th Annual Long Beach Island Surf Fishing Tournament

The Long Beach Island Surf Fishing Tournament ended at 6:00 PM on Sunday, November 21.
1096 anglers entered 174 striped bass and 374 bluefish.

Fish must be caught from the shores of Long Beach Island only-ocean, inlet, bay, and jetties. No boat fishing

The six-week tournament began Saturday morning, October 9, at 5 a.m. and ended Sunday, November 21, at 6 p.m.

$1000 CASH GRAND PRIZE WINNER - Ric O'Brien, Beach Haven NJ, 41 lbs.\7 oz.

(2)A.W. "Gus" Stasche, Sparta NJ, 40\3
(2)Robert Pfeiffer, Mt. Laurel NJ, 40\3
(4)Mike Fahy, Barnegat Light NJ, 40\2

our dear sisters

let us take a moment, fair captains, to reflect on our dear mournful sisters at maris stella, our namesake....

3 MONTHS

Ross Christie wrote:
> It just dawned on me that LBI Loveladies 2005 is only three months
> away. Which means that perhaps some planning may be in order. First of
> all, who is going and when and for how long? I'm thinking the 2nd & 3rd
> weeks of July.

that sounds good, i will be there then and possibly the entire time. rosemary will have to see what's going on for her around work and whether or not she is pregnant by then, but i'm guessing we will see her for a long weekend.
>
> How is Sunny 2? How is Cher? And what about a racing plan? Longer
> races? Multi-day? How about a really long race around an island perhaps?
>
> Let me know what you guys think. Ross

cher is still under wraps. but the evil winter that darkened our door for an eternity is now an almost distant memory. i decided not to renew my membership at the QYC this year, for several reasons, but rosemary has promised that she will help me to launch cher at other locations accessible to boston. and stuart and i have tentative plans to meet up in connecticut for special tuning regattas.

we definitely need longer races, i'm not saying that's the only reason the winner of barney 2004 won, but that course was way too short!

what we really need is new t-shirts and hats.

but shouldn't this discussion be taking place on the blog???

A Phenomenon of Nature

Beginning a few weeks ago, and as it happens at about this time every year, Painted Lady butterflies have dispersed through Southern California and Arizona on their way to their favorite flowers throughout North America. Some years we see more butterflies than other years and the reason is that with more rain in the winter there is more vegetation for the caterpillars to eat and therfore more caterpillars survive to become butterflies. Well, we had a lot of rain this winter. Lakes that were almost dry are full again. Mudslides have been happening everywhere. And, we've had plants and flowers emerge this spring that I've never seen before. And lots of Painted Lady butterflies. At first we had thousands of them. Then millions (even though I am not truly able to count into the millions) of them were flying by every day. When I went to Las Vegas last week I drove a section of highway in which about a hundred miles were filled with butterflies everywhere. But, all of that was nothing. On Thursday, March 31 from dawn to dusk a megazillion Painted Ladies flew through Southern California! Every cubic yard from the ground up to about 50 feet had a butterfly in it. All were flying north at about 20 mph. It was just an unbelievable endless blizzard of butterflies. And this was happening for hunderds of miles in every direction. All day long. I doubt that I'll ever see anything like that again for the rest of my life. Simply amazing!

The Painted Lady Butterfly

paintedLadyMM, originally uploaded by rosschristie.

On the Bounding Main

The NOODs! No, not (thank goodness) a bunch of sailors running around in their birthday suits, but rather the San Diego installment of the National Offshore One-Design regatta.

This series — ten races over a Friday (egad! people actually skipped work!) Saturday, and Sunday — is a big deal around here, at least among those of us sufficiently enlightened to sail. The number of boats entered was easily in triple figures, although there were many classes and (as the name of the regatta would suggest) each boat raced only against its own kind. Skippers spent big bucks preparing their boats — cleaning bottoms, replacing rigging, adding ringers to their crews....

On Valhalla (I'm happy to say) we stuck with all our regulars, which is to say amateurs one and all. Andy (our skipper) did, however, replace his stainless steel backstay with one made of carbon fiber (in the benighted belief that this would make a difference). We were also serious enough about this thing to hold two practice sessions prior to the race.

With so many entrants, there were two race courses, one for smaller boats (20 to 30 feet, say) and the other for larger. We were on the large-boat course, where legs were about a nautical mile and a quarter — just far enough that as you round one mark you can't actually see the next. You have to pick it up as you go. (Typical conversation: "Does anyone see the mark? Does anyone see the mark? DON'T POINT AT IT!!!")

The courses (once again, as the name of the regatta would suggest) were out on the ocean. As you may know, we've had an uncommonly wet winter here in southern California, and the forecast for race weekend was: Friday, rain, Saturday, rain, Sunday, rain. As it turned out, the weathermen were as foresighted as usual: we had, I think, a brief sprinkle on Saturday. But this is hardly to say that conditions were easy. The skies were solidly overcast on the Friday and Saturday, it was cold on both those days, the wind blew hard — up to 20 knots — all three days, and the swell ranged between large and larger, getting up to perhaps eight feet on the Sunday. Kelp (not actually a weather factor, I'll admit) was a bear.

There were times (lots of them, in fact) when we would come about, I would be trimming the genoa on the low side, and having finished I would need to get up to the high side to hike. The angle of heel on those occasions was such that I would need to grab things with my hands just so that I could climb up. My fifty-some-year-old body is not all that happy about climbing. Still, I don't think life gets better.

So, how'd we do? Well, there were moments when snags in sheets would foul tacks, and other moments when the guys on the bow weren't moving the spinnaker pole quite as smartly as they might, and one when we dropped the spinnaker in the water during a takedown and stopped the boat dead. (Do you have any idea how heavy a spinnaker is when it contains water? I didn't either, until now.) Not to put all the blame on the crew, there were also times when a moment's indecision during a start put us at the back of the fleet, or when a mistake in the helmsman's judgment led to a foul and a penalty turn. So...out of ten boats, someone had to come in tenth. Our best finish, in the final race, was a fifth, and although it may may not seem like much, that was really cool against top talent from all over the country.

The NOODs were two weekends ago, but last weekend it was back to Capri 22 racing. (Back to skippering!) Once again, I had the pro from Dover, Emma, as my crew. Ross was not there because he felt he had to work (which may call into question his bona fides as a sailor — or maybe not). There were four races and, to take all suspense out of it, Emma and I finished second, first, third, and third to take first overall. (Typical conversation during a tack: Dave — "Emma, that has to happen faster." Emma — "I'm going as fast as I can!")

No, the true excitement was that this was bumper-car racing. In the first race we approached the starting line overlapped and to windward of another racer, Sheldon. Knowing that I was a bit early anyway, I stalled my boat, fell below Sheldon and, as I crossed the line and simultaneously the gun went off and all was right with the world, I turned up to my proper close-hauled course. Unfortunately, Sheldon didn't. And, sure enough, he banged into me even though I was the leeward, and so right-of-way, boat. No damage, fortunately; he went on to do his penalty turn, and Emma and I went on to take our second. The second and third races were relatively placid affairs. With about three minutes to go before the start of the fourth, however, I approached the line on starboard while another boat (skippered by someone I don't know) ran along the line on port. As we converged, I called out "starboard," and then "Starboard!" and then "STARBOARD!!" but it did no good. He literally rammed me broadside, apparently unaware that I was even there.

No one was hurt, I'm happy to say (the collision was on the low side of our boat, and both Emma and I were on the high side). The collision did, however, take a triangular chunk out of the rail of my boat, measuring about three inches along each leg, with a crack at the apex stretching another six or so inches along the deck.

Once we disentangled ourselves, I did a quick check, decided we were still seaworthy, and continued the race. We arrived at the first mark in third place (having been hampered by the necessarily impromptu nature of our start), then the downwind leg in third place again. On the final, upwind leg we approached the finish line still in third and on starboard while two boats approached on port. This, of course, made me the right-of-way boat, but I could see the two of them yakking away at each other and paying no attention to me. Again??!!! So this time I started with "STARBOARD!!" and then escalated to "STARBOARD!!!!!!" and the boat on collision course, startled to find me there, rounded abruptly into the wind and missed me.

Damn, I have to find a fleet where I can steer and yet other sailors actually know what they're doing.....

My Tax Dollars at Work

And glad I am of it, I guess...

An Update

As time has passed, the hill has kept sliding. You can see the deep, vertical brown patch above the black tarp; that's all newly exposed earth, and the black tarp marks the fence that used to be at the top of the hill.

You can also see a large pile of loose dirt between the two houses, dwarfing the man standing in front of it. It's there because the City of Carlsbad has moved in to put things right, apparently on a "remove dirt until there's no dirt to remove" plan. They started about 2:30 yesterday and have been working round the clock since then, filling large dump trucks that parade in and out.

(Raven's a little put out by all this, the poor puppy.)

There are vast new neighborhoods being built behind the rim of the hill, and some time ago the early phases of construction involved a lot of dynamiting, followed by the movement of a great deal of earth to create new hills and new flat areas upon which to build roads and houses. Everyone I've talked to in my neighborhood is not merely suspicious, but absolutely certain that all that work played an important part in precipitating this slide. I suspect there'll be some lawyers involved in all this before long.....

If Life Gets Any More Exciting, I May Explode

What a winter! First there was the Christmas sinus infection, then the broken rib, and now this.

As you no doubt know, I live near the top of a hill. You may not have realized without thinking about it, though, that that all the neighborhoods hereabouts are literally carved out of the hillside. Sometime back when, developers cut terraces into the hillside and built houses on the resulting level spaces. And so streets here tend to end in very steep embankments.

As you've no doubt heard, it's rained a lot here lately. Soggy, steeply slanted earth here results in mudslides and, sure enough, the very steep embankment at the end of my street is beginning to slip.

Here's what it looks like:




You can see the tarps spread over the hillside in the hope that they will cause any new water to run off rather than soak in, as well as the sag in the fence (near the top of the embankment, to the left of the house roof) where it has been undermined by the sliding earth. You can also see one of several tractors that have been feverishly digging away the mud that has already slid (at a rate, apparently, of about one inch per hour) and the rented moving van in which Russel (the unlucky owner of the most exposed house, who has lived here since the neighborhood was new) is loading his furniture in the process of moving away. What you can't see (in this admittely amateurish photograph) is the break in the vegetation near the top of the embankment behind Russel's house — a roughly four-foot (top to bottom) strip of vertical brown earth that shows not only how much has already moved, but also how much more below it has yet to come down.

I believe that my house is far enough away to be safe. But we'll see what happens over the next week or so.

Rats Redux

Racing! Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!!! San Diego Bay! Nine boats. My first time skippering a 'big boat'. Kyle (Krabby) as my krew. Dave was skippering another boat with his friend Seth (& Seth's 2 young sons on board for tactical advice) as crew. Race#1; K & I are very nervous but we get a good start and half way up the first leg we are in first place on starboard tack with all other boats below us on port. Time to tack...we come about, set the jib sheet and it doesn't want to hold. The wind is pretty strong and Kyle just can't handle the jib. Consequently the lead slip slides away as we flounder on mainsail power alone until I jump forward and bring in the sheet. How did all those boats get ahead of me that quickly? We sail out the course and finish in 7th. Ouch! At least we didn't finish last. I think Dave finished fourth. Race#2; Another good start but with the wind a little too strong for us we (I) don't sail the boat so well and some boats get past me. Still we reach the upwind mark in 3rd place. We get passed at the finish and settle for a fourth. We've improved. We are happy. Dave finished first. Race#3; A pretty good start but I stink at steering. I turn the tiller over to Kyle and suddenly we are moving better. We take a fifth as we are passed again on the downwind leg. But, we are o.k. with fifth. Dave takes a second or third. Race#4; We go for a pin-end port start as the wind has shifted and now favors that start. Dave also recognizes the port start advantage and follows us. Twenty seconds after the gun we are way ahead of the fleet but with me at the helm again and steering poorly Dave passes us from underneath and sails off. I turn the helm over to Kyle again and look at us go! We round the upwind mark in third place. This is a 3 leg race with the finish being at the end of an upwind leg. We round the second mark in fourth place and just inches ahead of the fifth boat. Dave has fallen to a close second place and splits tacks with the first place boat in an effort to challenge it for first. But by going to the left side he has opened an opportunity for the third and fourth place boats to pass him. With Kyle steering we don't catch the third place boat that has now climbed into second but we do hold off the fifth place boat and we cross in front of Dave who is now on a port tack! We need to tack to cross the finish line and barely cross the line in front of Dave who is finishing on starboard. Third place us, Fourth place Dave who yells out "Rats" as he crosses the line. On the day, Dave/Seth & boys take 3rd overall...Ross/Kyle take 4th.

The Numa Numa

This seemed oh so appropriate.

Rats!

Not only an expression of Charlie Brown-esqe pique, but also the name of the animal causing that pique. Apparently there's quite an extended family of them running around in my attic. And while it's unfortunate that rats thrive wherever there are humans, it is fortunate that if we're going to be plagued with them, at least they're very, very stupid.

[Thoughts going through the rat's brain] "Ummm, that peanut butter smells good. Wonder where it came from? Well, who cares, it smells really good. And I wonder what that machine is that it's attached to? Well, who cares, because it smells really, really good and, wow!, it tastes really good too, and..." WHACK!

So I've killed three in the past couple of days, and I look forward to the day when I no longer hear the pitter patter of little feet above my head.

But....

The last one took the bait while I was sitting more or less directly beneath it, and come to find out, they don't just get their necks broken and die quickly and quietly. With all the thumping, I thought it might have been a puma, or at least an opossum. Now it happens that I place the trap just inside the opening to the attic, and that opening is (in the typical fashion) a two-by-three-foot rectangle above my bedroom closet covered by what should probably be plywood but is, in my case, some of that dimpled white foam that ugly ceilings are so often made of. Not strong stuff. And, in my case, a moment's carelessness (while I installed an ethernet cable leading from a router in my bedroom to a computer in Emma's bedroom) resulted in the removal of a corner of that piece of dimpled foam — an approximate equilateral triangle with legs of about three inches — plenty of room for a little beastie to fall through. And in truth, while I watched I saw at least the tail come into plain view.

Now, I don't like the idea of confronting an animal that, although trapped, is very much alive and really pissed off ("But, I was eating peanut butter! How can this happen?"), no matter how small it is in comparison with me, so I immediately called Raven into the room as a first line of defense. For awhile, there continued to be more bumping around in the attic than is likely to occur in a WWF contest. But it stopped. And I was left to wonder — has that thing shuffled off the mortal coil, or has it escaped and run away, or...is it just waiting for me? I happen to have bought an air horn a while back, in order to make a lot of noise on New Year's Eve, so I waited awhile and then blasted a coupe of jolts (Raven didn't like that), got no response from the beastie, and went up into the attic to discover I could add another notch to my belt.

HHHhhhhhhhhh........ (That's me letting out a deep sigh.)

All of this, of course, while true, means that I haven't been sailing enough and so have too little to write about. That's to be resolved soon: On Sunday there's a Capri 22 race, the first in which two of the Christie brothers will contend against one another. More to come.....

Somerville Gates

For those of us who cannot make it to the big apple this week for one reason or another, click here

go!

go!, originally uploaded by rosschristie.

Skipper: were we over?
Crew: we were right on!

Mom, Lance & Carlee

slide.bestoff.jpg, originally uploaded by rosschristie.

Three big winners in the news. Carlee, the German Short-haired Pointer, Best in Show winner of the Westminster Kennel Club. Lance Armstrong declared today that he would attempt a 7th Tour de France championship. Mom earned the title of Queen of Argentine Rummy, by dominating the competition in last week's California A. R. Tournament of Champions.

Let's Go Crabbing

Mysterious Island, somewhere south of the Causeway

A new World Record

Who cares about football! In "Other Sports" today,

LONDON, Feb. 7 (AP) - Ellen MacArthur has endured stormy seas, 65-mile-an-hour winds, a broken sail, burns, bruises and exhaustion - even a close encounter with a whale. The payoff is a solo around-the-world sailing record.

MacArthur, a 28-year-old Englishwoman, completed the 26,000-mile circumnavigation at 5:29 p.m. Eastern time on Monday by crossing an imaginary finish line between Ushant, France, and the Lizard peninsula in Cornwall, on the south coast of England.

Her final time was 71 days 14 hours 18 minutes 33 seconds, her control team said.

Boy, Do I Feel Guilty

After all, there you east coast folks are, suffering the cruel torments of winter, even fur-coated cats huddled up for warmth. You send photos and reports of boats buried almost to the point of being lost under snow. And what do I do about it?

Go sailing, of course.

"What?!" you say. "Aren't you injured?!" Well, yes, I suppose so, but I had signed up for a race some time before I fell off the ladder, and I was really looking forward to it, and I'd had almost two full weeks to recuperate. And besides, it's not like I would be crewing; as helmsman I was just going to sit in the stern and hold a tiller. All of which is to say that I guess I'm feeling a fair bit better than I was.

So, to the race details. Last Saturday, we had another of the Capri 22, around-the-channel-markers, all-over-San-Diego-Bay races — something like 10 to 12 nautical miles. My regular crew was notably absent; given that he was taking his Basic Keelboat class, one has to assume he will be not only absent from my boat, but also a competitor from now on. Cool! Fortunately, I was able to replace him, temporarily at least, with my first-string crew, a true old salt, the pro from Dover: Emma.

The early going was inauspicious: a so-so start and less-than-perfect sail trim left us in sixth place out of nine boats at the first mark. The second leg, a reach, saw no changes in position. But the third leg was long, and about five degress off a true run. The three lead boats — for what reason even they couldn't say later on — went way over to the left of the course. The next three of us took a straight-line track for the mark, Emma and I got our boat cookin', passed the two boats sailing with us, and reached the next mark in first place.

The next leg was even more directly down wind, and at this point the wind, previously brisk, dropped to almost nothing. Our speed (and everyone else's) varied from one to one and a half knots. (There was also a need to make way for a tug pulling two enormous barges, but that affected everyone about evenly.) Eventually the wind picked up again but, as tends to be the case on downwind legs, filled in from behind and brought everyone up to us before it started us moving again. We rounded the extreme downwind leg in second.

From here it was several miles of close-hauled sailing to the finish line, and Emma came into her own. (Although for the sake of accuracy I have to say that she also winged the jib beautifully on the downwind legs.) Every tack saw a crisp set of the jib, Emma haulin' hard, cleatin' down, and getting herself out on the rail. Midway along, the race had come down to us and one other boat, skippered by a guy named Jon Miyata. He was a little ahead, and time and again we would near the point of passing him only to be trapped in his wind shadow and fall behind.

Now Jon and I have sailed together on several long-distance ocean races and know each other well. So, naturally, as we battled one another we exchanged a bit of good-natured trash talk. At one point I warned him that if he paid too much attention to keeping me slow, someone might come from behind and pass us both. And sure enough another boat (call it the "mystery boat"; I don't know its skipper) did begin to move up; Jon, perhaps with my warning in mind, broke off to cover him; with our air suddenly clear we surged ahead and won. The mystery boat finished about 10 seconds later, and Jon about 10 seconds after that, consoled in the knowledge that any race is a good race when you finish ahead of Steve McNally (who was a distant fourth).

A fine way to spend a January day. Come to think of it, I don't feel so guilty after all.

Daisy stir-fry

what does a girl have to do to stay warm around here?

Spring is in the Air

January 28th and the wildflowers are blooming like crazy. The rain we had in December and the warm, sunny days we've had in mid-January have colored the hills and canyons with bright reds, yellows, purples and whites.

And, by the way, I've joined the Harbor Sailboats club. Tomorrow I begin the 2 day 'basic keelboating' class. Once I complete the class I am o.k. to compete in the racing program and with Kyle as my crew start collecting some club trophies. Starting gun, here I come!

I'm OK, You're OK?

Sunny II and Dave's boat (Kaigon? Saigon? King Kong?) have weathered the storm nicely, as they are sitting comfortably in the garage. I can't quite say the same for Sunny I and Red Weather, although at least they are visible.

and more expected

live from new england... sometimes when the wind blows it's a complete whiteout.



spring seems a long way away. cher is still visible but "the snoopster" (miata) is now completely buried.

Question of the Day

When your car needs to be fixed, you bring it into the shop, leave it for a few days, and rent another while the work takes place. Why can't they do that with human bodies? "Yeah, I'd like to rent another body while mine's in here for healing. Could I get the 25-year-old stud model? And by the way, there's not really any hurry on the repairs...."

Dave Makes a Decision

That's it! No more physical labor ever! If it's worth doing, it's worth having done by a qualified professional.

These thoughts ran through my mind yesterday about 0.75 seconds into a fall from a ladder — about 10 feet.

The good news: No head injury, and I wiggle my toes and fingers just fine.

The bad news: Broken rib and chewed-up lower back. (Nothing that won't heal in time.) Ah well, I guess I'll be taking an indefinite sabbatical from my Aikido studies....

I can't sail in them, but . . .

Vema III; Mouette; Nyala; Northern Light; Nereus; Vim; Seven Seas; Columbia; Dorothee; Constellation; Intrepid; Valiant; Courageous; Enterprise; Spirit of America; America II - All of them 12-meters and all of them designed by Sparkman & Stephens, who just happen to be a tenant of ours at 529 Fifth Avenue. I met with them yesterday and just walking around, looking at the plans/models/photographs, was awesome. There was a photograph of one of their yachts under sail - it goes for a cool $10 million. The spinnaker alone costs $25,000 (apparently they were out one time, sailing it with the owner in heavy winds . . . they recommended taking the spinnaker down . . . the owner disagreed . . . a few moments later, the spinnaker ripped to shreds . . . oops!). I made a preliminary offer on it - they said they'd consider a trade in of the sunfish!