Maris Stella Yacht Club and Crabbing SocietyThursday, December 28, 2006
LBI SWEATSHIRT
I spotted a guy, mid-40s, wearing an LBI sweatshirt today. I asked him if he owned a car with an EXIT 63 or a Barnegat Light sticker parked nearby. He replied, " No sorry, I'm driving a rental this week." Man, it's tough scoring points out here!
Monday, December 25, 2006
Thursday, December 21, 2006
It's getting out of control??
That's nothing!!! It's bordering on tasteful. This guy needs to make a trip to N.J. to see how Christmas Lights are properly done!
Monday, December 18, 2006
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
More Fun Than Bumper Cars
On the last day of the Fall 2006 Capri 22 Regatta, things were pretty much decided from the start. Steve McNally had taken first by a few points on the first day; Emma and I had taken second; the two Matts — Brown and Hurlimann — were in third. The second day was the Fall Fleet Race and, as you know already, Ross, Kyle, and I won that one; the Matts were third in that race, and Steve put himself out of contention by missing a mark and being disqualified. So we were well ahead and, on this final day, only four boats showed up; Steve was not one of them, and only the Matts mattered. All we had to do was stay in front of them. Ho hum. Or so it seemed.
We, on this day, were Seth and me. Seth is a friend from my days on board Valhalla as well as the husband of Traci, whom I’ve mentioned before — both a friend from Valhalla and, on this particular day, a competitor on another 22. We began this Saturday ignoring Traci and her crewmate Jon (you’ve heard of him before as well) and the Chapmans (the fourth boat, and you’ve heard of them too). Whew! You can’t tell your players without a scorecard! We tried only to start and finish ahead of the Matts, and in the first race, we succeeded; we were second, they were fourth.
Then it got exciting.
In the second race, I had an appalling start. I was so early to the line that I seemed to have a bizarre shot of salvaging things — going to the windward side of the line, circling back round the pin end, and getting into contention. It didn’t work out quite that way, though; we were somewhere between five and ten boat lengths behind the third-place boat when we crossed the start line. However, the other three boats made a mistake — went off to the right side, leaving the favored left side to us. Easy enough to say so in retrospect; who knew it was favored at the time? We just figured we were last and so would go where the others weren’t and hope for the best. And the best happened — we were second at the upwind mark, a boat length behind the Matts.
As we went downwind, we gained. We drew alongside, and to leeward, both boats on port tack. We edged ahead, by inches, with only a few boat lengths to the finish. I (perhaps foolishly) chose to use my leeward-boat advantage to push the Matts to a course that would take them just outside the finish line. We were close enough that Hurlimann had to grab his boom and pull it in to avoid contact, and — sudden inspiration! — he shoved it over to the other side of his boat, called “Starboard!”, and bumped us.
I should have remembered rule 15, which says that when a boat acquires right of way, it must initially give the other boat room to keep clear; the Matts gave no room, so it was their foul. But I didn’t remember, took it as my foul, did a penalty turn, and went from first to fourth in about 30 seconds. And finished there.
We were pissed. Seth was pissed at the Matts for having pulled such a BS move, and I was pissed at myself for having fallen for it. It was time for revenge.
So, the start of the third race: the Matts reached along the line and I timed things perfectly to force them over the line and, on top of that, bump them from leeward to force a penalty on them. It was a wonderful moment. I didn’t need anything good to happen for another week.
And just as well, because it was a five-race day, and I took second, fourth, second, fourth (damn that kelp!), second — for a fourth (that is to say, last) on the day. But the racing was very close — the scores were 10, 13, 13, 14 — so I easily took first overall in the Fall Regatta. Chalk up another win for the Maris Stella Yacht Club!!
We, on this day, were Seth and me. Seth is a friend from my days on board Valhalla as well as the husband of Traci, whom I’ve mentioned before — both a friend from Valhalla and, on this particular day, a competitor on another 22. We began this Saturday ignoring Traci and her crewmate Jon (you’ve heard of him before as well) and the Chapmans (the fourth boat, and you’ve heard of them too). Whew! You can’t tell your players without a scorecard! We tried only to start and finish ahead of the Matts, and in the first race, we succeeded; we were second, they were fourth.
Then it got exciting.
In the second race, I had an appalling start. I was so early to the line that I seemed to have a bizarre shot of salvaging things — going to the windward side of the line, circling back round the pin end, and getting into contention. It didn’t work out quite that way, though; we were somewhere between five and ten boat lengths behind the third-place boat when we crossed the start line. However, the other three boats made a mistake — went off to the right side, leaving the favored left side to us. Easy enough to say so in retrospect; who knew it was favored at the time? We just figured we were last and so would go where the others weren’t and hope for the best. And the best happened — we were second at the upwind mark, a boat length behind the Matts.
As we went downwind, we gained. We drew alongside, and to leeward, both boats on port tack. We edged ahead, by inches, with only a few boat lengths to the finish. I (perhaps foolishly) chose to use my leeward-boat advantage to push the Matts to a course that would take them just outside the finish line. We were close enough that Hurlimann had to grab his boom and pull it in to avoid contact, and — sudden inspiration! — he shoved it over to the other side of his boat, called “Starboard!”, and bumped us.
I should have remembered rule 15, which says that when a boat acquires right of way, it must initially give the other boat room to keep clear; the Matts gave no room, so it was their foul. But I didn’t remember, took it as my foul, did a penalty turn, and went from first to fourth in about 30 seconds. And finished there.
We were pissed. Seth was pissed at the Matts for having pulled such a BS move, and I was pissed at myself for having fallen for it. It was time for revenge.
So, the start of the third race: the Matts reached along the line and I timed things perfectly to force them over the line and, on top of that, bump them from leeward to force a penalty on them. It was a wonderful moment. I didn’t need anything good to happen for another week.
And just as well, because it was a five-race day, and I took second, fourth, second, fourth (damn that kelp!), second — for a fourth (that is to say, last) on the day. But the racing was very close — the scores were 10, 13, 13, 14 — so I easily took first overall in the Fall Regatta. Chalk up another win for the Maris Stella Yacht Club!!
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Monday, November 27, 2006
just so you don't think we're not having fun too
trying to take a picture with your cell phone while you are driving 70mph on 84 in connecticut is fun too!
3 points for linda!!
Saturday, November 18, 2006
too much fun
Sailing.
Dad got us into it thirty something years ago.
and sailboat racing. That too.
Well, many seasons of racing at the Surf City Yacht Club had their trials and tribulations. There were some pretty big time serious racers in that club. I'm not so sure that we knew at that time how serious those guys were.
But, we were into the game too and we learned a lot. Thanks, Dad.
And we've stayed in it. Thanks everybody.
Today Dave, Kyle & Ross sailed in the Harbor Sailboats Fall Regatta. This is the club's annual big race.
Many years ago Dave joined the Harbor Sailboats Club and the club has provided a great opportunity for learning more about sailing and sailboat racing. As Dave's original crew I remember that we started at the bottom and finished last or close to last in our first attempts. But we improved. Eventually we won a race. That was awesome. And then we came in first overall for the day. And then we won a series.
Now Dave is the all time series champion. His name is on the club plaque more than ten times. No one else is close.
But this Fall Club Regatta has eluded us. And we have been up against some serious challengers over the years. Some competitors are actually professionals in the sport.
Today was our day.
The race lasted about three hours. We had a good start & reached the first mark in first place but were caught and passed by a boat early on the next leg. We were challenged by two others and dropped into third place. But, we held on. We made some good decisions and sailed well and reclaimed second. And then going back upwind we regained the lead and held on for the final half hour and finished first.
Trophy!
A couple of months ago we needed to do very well in the final day of a series to win the series. We pulled off a 1st, 1st & 1st to win the series by 1/2 point against a very good competitor. We thought that day that we reached the pinnacle of sailing. Well, I think that Dave & I are agreed that today was our best day sailing ever.
And I think that all the members of the Maris Stella Yacht Club have a part in helping in our success today.
I will be sailing again tommorrow in an ocean race. #2 of 3 of the series that I wrote about last week. But nothing can compare to today's race. Sail on.
Too much fun!
Dad got us into it thirty something years ago.
and sailboat racing. That too.
Well, many seasons of racing at the Surf City Yacht Club had their trials and tribulations. There were some pretty big time serious racers in that club. I'm not so sure that we knew at that time how serious those guys were.
But, we were into the game too and we learned a lot. Thanks, Dad.
And we've stayed in it. Thanks everybody.
Today Dave, Kyle & Ross sailed in the Harbor Sailboats Fall Regatta. This is the club's annual big race.
Many years ago Dave joined the Harbor Sailboats Club and the club has provided a great opportunity for learning more about sailing and sailboat racing. As Dave's original crew I remember that we started at the bottom and finished last or close to last in our first attempts. But we improved. Eventually we won a race. That was awesome. And then we came in first overall for the day. And then we won a series.
Now Dave is the all time series champion. His name is on the club plaque more than ten times. No one else is close.
But this Fall Club Regatta has eluded us. And we have been up against some serious challengers over the years. Some competitors are actually professionals in the sport.
Today was our day.
The race lasted about three hours. We had a good start & reached the first mark in first place but were caught and passed by a boat early on the next leg. We were challenged by two others and dropped into third place. But, we held on. We made some good decisions and sailed well and reclaimed second. And then going back upwind we regained the lead and held on for the final half hour and finished first.
Trophy!
A couple of months ago we needed to do very well in the final day of a series to win the series. We pulled off a 1st, 1st & 1st to win the series by 1/2 point against a very good competitor. We thought that day that we reached the pinnacle of sailing. Well, I think that Dave & I are agreed that today was our best day sailing ever.
And I think that all the members of the Maris Stella Yacht Club have a part in helping in our success today.
I will be sailing again tommorrow in an ocean race. #2 of 3 of the series that I wrote about last week. But nothing can compare to today's race. Sail on.
Too much fun!
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Another Sailing Story
And this one involves mayhem on only a slightly smaller scale than Ross had to offer.
Last Saturday, after I’d done no sailing for an appallingly long month, Capri 22 racing finally resumed. There was, however, a twist — we would share our race course with another class of boat, the Flying Tiger.
This is a boat with an interesting history. Apparently someone had a yen to design a pure racer that would nevertheless be “affordable” (always a relative term in sailing). In part, the cost-saving measures involved building the boat in China. But, long before the boat was available, or even designed, word of it leaked out to Sailing Anarchy, a web site devoted to sailing and based in San Diego. One thing led to another and before long, people were submitting design ideas to the web site, and (at least in the public version of events) a lot of those ideas made it into the boat. So it may be the first web-designed sailboat.
At any rate, the guy who owns Harbor Sailboats (named Tom Hirsh) bought two of the first ten FTs to be made. Two other San Diegans also bought one each. The boats arrived quite recently, and (I’m guessing here) Tom figured that as long as he was setting up a race course for the Capri 22s, the FTs might as well also use it.
The FTs are vastly faster than the Capri 22s; they’re about 33 feet long at get up to (I’m told) 15 knots in not all that much breeze. So they were to start first, and our start was to be five minutes later. So as we (“we” being Emma and I, by the way) milled about downwind of the starting line, we had a perfect view of their start (and here comes the mayhem part). With about 10 seconds to the gun, two were right alongside one another, approaching the committee boat, when the upwind one suddenly rounded up and rammed the committee boat! I thought at first it was just bad sailing, but then realized I could see the boat’s helmsman holding on to the tiller, but the rudder itself was flailing about in the water; it had literally torn off the transom! Apparently (I didn’t see this part) the same thing happened to a second boat a short way up the first leg. (Tom was the only one to escape damage.) So much for boats on the cheap. Or, so much for web-designed boats. Or maybe both!
With the FTs out of commission, there were still Capri 22s to race — eight of us in all. The wind was blowing about 15 knots, which is pretty strong for those little boats. Emma finished the day with sore arms. We sailed a random-leg course on which the first leg was almost a straight, close-hauled, starboard-tack course. But not quite; and having found ourselves in the middle of the pack at the start, we were the earliest to realize the need for short port tack, took it before anyone else and gained clear air, and by the time we reached the first mark, we had taken the lead. It was a lead we never relinquished, although when we finished we were only half a boat length ahead of the second-place finisher. There were two more races, in which we finished fourth and third, and all our finishes were close; in the last race in particular, the difference between us and the second-place boat was no more than six inches.
It was our friend Steve McNally finishing first in each of the second and third races, for a first place overall. Emma and I finished second overall, with two more days of racing left. Can’t think of a better way to spend a November Saturday!
Last Saturday, after I’d done no sailing for an appallingly long month, Capri 22 racing finally resumed. There was, however, a twist — we would share our race course with another class of boat, the Flying Tiger.
This is a boat with an interesting history. Apparently someone had a yen to design a pure racer that would nevertheless be “affordable” (always a relative term in sailing). In part, the cost-saving measures involved building the boat in China. But, long before the boat was available, or even designed, word of it leaked out to Sailing Anarchy, a web site devoted to sailing and based in San Diego. One thing led to another and before long, people were submitting design ideas to the web site, and (at least in the public version of events) a lot of those ideas made it into the boat. So it may be the first web-designed sailboat.
At any rate, the guy who owns Harbor Sailboats (named Tom Hirsh) bought two of the first ten FTs to be made. Two other San Diegans also bought one each. The boats arrived quite recently, and (I’m guessing here) Tom figured that as long as he was setting up a race course for the Capri 22s, the FTs might as well also use it.
The FTs are vastly faster than the Capri 22s; they’re about 33 feet long at get up to (I’m told) 15 knots in not all that much breeze. So they were to start first, and our start was to be five minutes later. So as we (“we” being Emma and I, by the way) milled about downwind of the starting line, we had a perfect view of their start (and here comes the mayhem part). With about 10 seconds to the gun, two were right alongside one another, approaching the committee boat, when the upwind one suddenly rounded up and rammed the committee boat! I thought at first it was just bad sailing, but then realized I could see the boat’s helmsman holding on to the tiller, but the rudder itself was flailing about in the water; it had literally torn off the transom! Apparently (I didn’t see this part) the same thing happened to a second boat a short way up the first leg. (Tom was the only one to escape damage.) So much for boats on the cheap. Or, so much for web-designed boats. Or maybe both!
With the FTs out of commission, there were still Capri 22s to race — eight of us in all. The wind was blowing about 15 knots, which is pretty strong for those little boats. Emma finished the day with sore arms. We sailed a random-leg course on which the first leg was almost a straight, close-hauled, starboard-tack course. But not quite; and having found ourselves in the middle of the pack at the start, we were the earliest to realize the need for short port tack, took it before anyone else and gained clear air, and by the time we reached the first mark, we had taken the lead. It was a lead we never relinquished, although when we finished we were only half a boat length ahead of the second-place finisher. There were two more races, in which we finished fourth and third, and all our finishes were close; in the last race in particular, the difference between us and the second-place boat was no more than six inches.
It was our friend Steve McNally finishing first in each of the second and third races, for a first place overall. Emma and I finished second overall, with two more days of racing left. Can’t think of a better way to spend a November Saturday!
Monday, November 13, 2006
It Wasn't Boring
I sailed as a crew member in a race last Sunday and I thought that I'd share the story with you guys. As we all know, few sailboat races go perfectly. Well, this race definitely had its share of problems. There will be no names mentioned here because I don't want upset anyone who may accidently read this on a google search. I want to stay friends.
About a month ago I tried to join our club's boat in this particular race but I was a little too late calling the club coordinator and the crew list was already filled. Fortunately for me a regular sailing competitor of the club asked Dave (first names are o.k.) if he was interested in crewing on a boat (exactly the same type of boat that I was trying to sign up for & the type boat that Dave has crewed on for years) that was short-handed in this particular race. Dave was unavailable for this race but he recommended me & so I got the invite.
I show up at the dock on Sunday morning and there are 5 sailors that I regularly race with as well as the boat owner, Bob. And then another guy shows up, and another, and still another. So now we are 10 on a 37 foot boat that needs 6 or 7 crew members. Well, there's enough booze and sandwiches for 15 so we ready the boat and off we go.
The race is to start in about an hour and there is one slight problem...there is no wind. This is typical around here and as it turns out the wind did start to come up just a little after the race officially started. With no wind at start time it was a little bit tricky getting a good run at the line in a crowd of 120+ sailboats and a strong current due to an extreme tide change. Our tactician unfortunately got us to the start line 30 seconds early and the current pulled us over onto the course side and with no wind we were unable to get back and start correctly for four & 1/2 minutes. This was by far the worst start to a race that I've ever experienced. We were quickly in last place among the boats in our class but since the wind was so light no one was very far ahead of us. And the race was about a 20 mile course so there was plenty of room to catch up. But, there were plenty of experienced and competitive sailors on board our boat wondering how this tactician botched the start so badly. Yet, not a negative word was spoken.
The wind was filling behind us and most boats had their spinnakers up on a broad reach out of the harbor and into the ocean. Our tactician decided that it would be to our advantage to sail closer to the wind and aim for the western edge of the harbor where he thought the wind would be strongest. Therefore we stayed with our Genoa to hold that course as spinnaker powered boats in the classes that started after us sped past us. Id never met this guy, our tactician, before but he was given this role on our boat because of his vast racing experience. This higher course heading finally gained us some stonger wind and we put up our chute but unfortunately for us this course took us directly through the notorious seaweed/kelp beds that effectively ended our race. Although we tried to navigate our way safely through the kelp there was so much that it was as if we were sailing through a forest of vines that were reaching out to entangle us. And that they did. We were caught in and dragging with us hundreds of pounds of weeds. We slowed from 8-9 knots to 3-4 knots. We used a special pole to try to release it from the keel and rudder but it wouldn't budge. We managed to sail out of the beds but we still couldn't free our boat of the kelp. So we continued ahead slowly.
After about half an hour we approached the first mark and made our first sound decision...keep clear of the mark. Boats larger and faster than ours started 10 to 15 minutes after our start and they were catching up to us very quickly. The wind was stronger out in the ocean and some boats were approaching the mark with a lot of speed and not much room to maneuver their jibe at the mark. We watched two large boats become entangled, rip out some rigging, break a spinnaker pole and tear some sails. Well, at least we avoided that!
On our kelp dragging reach leg we were caught and passed by just about every boat before we reached the second mark. On this reach our sails and rigging were under a lot of pressure by the wind and by the drag of all the kelp. I was standing on the windward rail when, bang!, the block on the deck that had the spin sheet broke apart and the 3" diameter metal wheel shot out and hit me in the foot and then hit the guy behind me in the chest. Neither one of us got hurt. I was wearing shoes and I think I slowed it down before Matt got hit. The real concern was that all of a sudden the spinnaker sheet was now wrapped around my ankles. But, with the bang the person managing the sheet released her hold on it so there wasn't a tight wrap on my ankles and I was able to slip out before it tightened again.
We managed to get the chute under control and sailed ahead to the second mark. We decided that when we round the mark we would point into the wind, stop the boat and then back down in an effort to free the boat from the kelp. Some kelp released but unfortunately the majority of it was caught up firmly on the keel. After a quick discussion a crew member volunteered to go over and pull the kelp off the keel. Amazingly the owner/captain allowed this solution. My opinion was that this was a crazy and dangerous answer to the situation and that the way things were going for us an answer involving a potential drowning was not a sound decision. But nevertheless this guy stripped down to his skivvies, was handed a diving mask and over he went into the cold ocean. In one minute he sucessfully pulled off a small island/ecosystem of seaweed and we were free of it. Our diver was rewarded with a dry towel, a cold beer and a round of applause. We sailed off in second to last place.
The wind became lighter and a bit flukey (that's a technical term). Oddly, we were in a place on the water where the wind was working for us and taking us on a direct line to the next mark while boats a mile or two ahead of us were either stopped in dead air or moving in a direction away from the mark. We were able to play some weird wind shifts to our advantage and we caught up to and passed quite a few boats. On the down side, now that we were competive again and back in the race we no longer had trust in our tactician and there was discussion and disagreement about every decision. The helmsman needs to point higher, lower; we should tack, not tack; go here, go there; beer not wine. Eventually we are on a course taking us directly back into the kelp beds and we all just lose it to a near mutiny and command a tack away. The tactician thanks the crew for the alert attention to the upcoming kelp.
We are on our final leg to the finish several miles ahead in the harbor and we are feeling good that the boat is sailing well, that we have passed 20 or so boats and we are gaining on some more and most importantly and surprisingly back in contention with some boats in our class. We continue gaining on our competition by riding the lifts and tacking on the headers. We re-enter the harbor that is now at extreme low tide. Our tactician has us sailing the edge of the channel in an effort to max the wind shifts. We are moving nicely at about 7 knots only about a mile from the finish with our eyes on two boats in our class that are only slightly ahead when oooff! the boat stops and we have run aground. We have to start the engine and power full reverse with all crew to leward to get the keel out of the mud. It takes about 5 minutes (seems like an hour) to get out. We are now disqualified. We turn off the engine and return to sailing and after all our troubles cross the finish line before about 10 other boats (I can only imagine what kind experiences they had). The owner/captain is rightfully unhappy that his tactician ran aground and perhaps damaged his boat. All of the crew is concerned about damage as well. We had high hopes in the morning of doing well in the race but come late afternoon its 'keel-haul' the tactician & put this boat to bed.
Actually we had a rather nice little party on the boat afterwards with plenty of food and drink & isn't that what sailing is really all about anyway?
About a month ago I tried to join our club's boat in this particular race but I was a little too late calling the club coordinator and the crew list was already filled. Fortunately for me a regular sailing competitor of the club asked Dave (first names are o.k.) if he was interested in crewing on a boat (exactly the same type of boat that I was trying to sign up for & the type boat that Dave has crewed on for years) that was short-handed in this particular race. Dave was unavailable for this race but he recommended me & so I got the invite.
I show up at the dock on Sunday morning and there are 5 sailors that I regularly race with as well as the boat owner, Bob. And then another guy shows up, and another, and still another. So now we are 10 on a 37 foot boat that needs 6 or 7 crew members. Well, there's enough booze and sandwiches for 15 so we ready the boat and off we go.
The race is to start in about an hour and there is one slight problem...there is no wind. This is typical around here and as it turns out the wind did start to come up just a little after the race officially started. With no wind at start time it was a little bit tricky getting a good run at the line in a crowd of 120+ sailboats and a strong current due to an extreme tide change. Our tactician unfortunately got us to the start line 30 seconds early and the current pulled us over onto the course side and with no wind we were unable to get back and start correctly for four & 1/2 minutes. This was by far the worst start to a race that I've ever experienced. We were quickly in last place among the boats in our class but since the wind was so light no one was very far ahead of us. And the race was about a 20 mile course so there was plenty of room to catch up. But, there were plenty of experienced and competitive sailors on board our boat wondering how this tactician botched the start so badly. Yet, not a negative word was spoken.
The wind was filling behind us and most boats had their spinnakers up on a broad reach out of the harbor and into the ocean. Our tactician decided that it would be to our advantage to sail closer to the wind and aim for the western edge of the harbor where he thought the wind would be strongest. Therefore we stayed with our Genoa to hold that course as spinnaker powered boats in the classes that started after us sped past us. Id never met this guy, our tactician, before but he was given this role on our boat because of his vast racing experience. This higher course heading finally gained us some stonger wind and we put up our chute but unfortunately for us this course took us directly through the notorious seaweed/kelp beds that effectively ended our race. Although we tried to navigate our way safely through the kelp there was so much that it was as if we were sailing through a forest of vines that were reaching out to entangle us. And that they did. We were caught in and dragging with us hundreds of pounds of weeds. We slowed from 8-9 knots to 3-4 knots. We used a special pole to try to release it from the keel and rudder but it wouldn't budge. We managed to sail out of the beds but we still couldn't free our boat of the kelp. So we continued ahead slowly.
After about half an hour we approached the first mark and made our first sound decision...keep clear of the mark. Boats larger and faster than ours started 10 to 15 minutes after our start and they were catching up to us very quickly. The wind was stronger out in the ocean and some boats were approaching the mark with a lot of speed and not much room to maneuver their jibe at the mark. We watched two large boats become entangled, rip out some rigging, break a spinnaker pole and tear some sails. Well, at least we avoided that!
On our kelp dragging reach leg we were caught and passed by just about every boat before we reached the second mark. On this reach our sails and rigging were under a lot of pressure by the wind and by the drag of all the kelp. I was standing on the windward rail when, bang!, the block on the deck that had the spin sheet broke apart and the 3" diameter metal wheel shot out and hit me in the foot and then hit the guy behind me in the chest. Neither one of us got hurt. I was wearing shoes and I think I slowed it down before Matt got hit. The real concern was that all of a sudden the spinnaker sheet was now wrapped around my ankles. But, with the bang the person managing the sheet released her hold on it so there wasn't a tight wrap on my ankles and I was able to slip out before it tightened again.
We managed to get the chute under control and sailed ahead to the second mark. We decided that when we round the mark we would point into the wind, stop the boat and then back down in an effort to free the boat from the kelp. Some kelp released but unfortunately the majority of it was caught up firmly on the keel. After a quick discussion a crew member volunteered to go over and pull the kelp off the keel. Amazingly the owner/captain allowed this solution. My opinion was that this was a crazy and dangerous answer to the situation and that the way things were going for us an answer involving a potential drowning was not a sound decision. But nevertheless this guy stripped down to his skivvies, was handed a diving mask and over he went into the cold ocean. In one minute he sucessfully pulled off a small island/ecosystem of seaweed and we were free of it. Our diver was rewarded with a dry towel, a cold beer and a round of applause. We sailed off in second to last place.
The wind became lighter and a bit flukey (that's a technical term). Oddly, we were in a place on the water where the wind was working for us and taking us on a direct line to the next mark while boats a mile or two ahead of us were either stopped in dead air or moving in a direction away from the mark. We were able to play some weird wind shifts to our advantage and we caught up to and passed quite a few boats. On the down side, now that we were competive again and back in the race we no longer had trust in our tactician and there was discussion and disagreement about every decision. The helmsman needs to point higher, lower; we should tack, not tack; go here, go there; beer not wine. Eventually we are on a course taking us directly back into the kelp beds and we all just lose it to a near mutiny and command a tack away. The tactician thanks the crew for the alert attention to the upcoming kelp.
We are on our final leg to the finish several miles ahead in the harbor and we are feeling good that the boat is sailing well, that we have passed 20 or so boats and we are gaining on some more and most importantly and surprisingly back in contention with some boats in our class. We continue gaining on our competition by riding the lifts and tacking on the headers. We re-enter the harbor that is now at extreme low tide. Our tactician has us sailing the edge of the channel in an effort to max the wind shifts. We are moving nicely at about 7 knots only about a mile from the finish with our eyes on two boats in our class that are only slightly ahead when oooff! the boat stops and we have run aground. We have to start the engine and power full reverse with all crew to leward to get the keel out of the mud. It takes about 5 minutes (seems like an hour) to get out. We are now disqualified. We turn off the engine and return to sailing and after all our troubles cross the finish line before about 10 other boats (I can only imagine what kind experiences they had). The owner/captain is rightfully unhappy that his tactician ran aground and perhaps damaged his boat. All of the crew is concerned about damage as well. We had high hopes in the morning of doing well in the race but come late afternoon its 'keel-haul' the tactician & put this boat to bed.
Actually we had a rather nice little party on the boat afterwards with plenty of food and drink & isn't that what sailing is really all about anyway?
Saturday, November 04, 2006
A new game?
Whenever you see a vehicle with LBI stickers, take a picture with your phone or other device you may have on hand and post it!
NJ = .25 points
Other mid-Atlantic states = 1 point
New England = 3 points
except for Maine = 5 points
Mid-west and South = ? (who cares)
California = 10 points but it can't be your own car
Linda - 3 points! or is it 6 because they had 2 stickers..
NJ = .25 points
Other mid-Atlantic states = 1 point
New England = 3 points
except for Maine = 5 points
Mid-west and South = ? (who cares)
California = 10 points but it can't be your own car
Linda - 3 points! or is it 6 because they had 2 stickers..
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Asleep at the helm
Many thanks to Dave for pointing out that our nun had gone missing. She has returned and all is well once again.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Blue Yankee, or A Nice Little Sail Out of Long Island Sound
Report On The 2006 Vineyard Race
by Steve Benjamin
The weather for the 2006 Vineyard Race presented a unique set of challenges. Hurricane Ernesto was progressing Northerly up the East Coast. Meanwhile a potent Canadian High was steadfastly holding ground in the Northeast. The combined counter-rotating pressure systems produced a funnel effect focusing the strongest winds over Western Long Island Sound on Saturday afternoon.
There were 53 entries in the fleet, 27 boats that actually started, and only 3 that finished: Blue Yankee (RP 66), Snow Lion (Ker 50, and Lora Ann (Express 37).
Aboard Blue Yankee we had maxed out the crew to our IRC limit of 20 and left the dock in Stamford about 3:00 pm for our 4:20 pm start of IRC Class Super Zero (Class 8). Our plan to start with the full main and best genoa quickly got modified when we saw solid white caps on the Sound and steady winds over 20 knots, directly out of the East, putting the first mark Buzzards Tower precisely upwind and 120 miles away. The decision to start with the first reef, and # 4 genoa was reached, and executed inside Stamford harbor.
We held starboard tack off the line, to get some current relief off Smith Reef and Long Neck Point in Darien, in the last of the flood. Quickly we realized our biggest adversary would be the waves. Blue Yankee’s targets call for 10.5 knots upwind in winds over 20 knots. But we found that pounding into the waves at that speed would almost certainly break either the boat, or the crew, or maybe both! So we began to formulate a plan to minimize exposure to the seaway.
In an Easterly on LIS there are not many places to hide. We decided to tack to port off Long Neck Point, and laid a course SE for Long Island. After about five minutes on port we slammed into some huge seas and broke the #4 carbon/kevlar genoa. The sail came down, and we replaced it with our next smallest genoa – the Storm Jib. The Storm Jib with the single reef main was a good sail combination, and took us all the way to the Tower.
On port we fetched Eaton’s Neck, and carried on into Smithtown Bay. Normally you would never sail inside Smithtown Bay fearing light winds, however in this Easterly gale the Bay (South of the Line of Death) provided welcome relief from the waves on Long Island Sound, and five to ten knots less wind. Meanwhile, Chris Williams of North Sails was below repairing the damage to the #4 so we could use that sail again if conditions moderated (they didn’t, but we got the sail up on the run home).
At each point especially off Port Jefferson we had to step out into the Sound, and throttle back, to avoid damage. Past Port Jefferson we found relief from the seaway all the way East to Horton Neck, where a discussion among the afterguard about the best solution to exit the Sound ensued. Basically there were two choices since we were determined to avoid The Race. One option was to tack starboard and go North of Fishers Island, where I was certain there would be calm seas. The Northerly solution was appealing, but the navigation through Fishers Island Sound, especially at night in winds gusting over 30, was daunting.
We decided to exit the Sound through the Gut which was a good solution. Nice and flat seas and the wind angle kept us beating on port tack. We ignored the conventional strategy of short tacking Plum Island in the early flood, and held port for a landfall just West of Gardiners Island looking for relief from the seaway. After a short starboard tack out and around 1GI on the North side of Gardiners Island, we held a long port for Montauk. Again, we found relief from the seas the closer we got to the South Fork.
I was really worried about setting out across Rhode Island Sound on the long starboard from Montauk, but it was not as bad as I expected, and there was no choice except turning back, and that was not going to happen. We were able to make a landfall West of Point Judith, and tacked in toward Newport around daybreak on Saturday morning. We might have overdone our strategy of staying close to land, we saw the orange barrels and wire fish nets off Sakonnet and tacked out right away!
As we approached Buzzards Tower around 10:15 am on Saturday, the wind temporarily dropped below 30 knots. Thinking about the run home, and reviewing our forecasts which said the winds would peak between 9 and 12 on Saturday, we decided to shake the first reef before reaching the Tower, since it would be very hard to do downwind. Bad idea!
At the Tower the spinnaker decision was mine. Tim Powell asked for the masthead 3A and I should have listened. Thinking we had true running conditions in under 30, and checking the polar sailchart, I called for the 4A (maximum size masthead runner). The combination worked great for about fifteen minutes and we were off, hell bent for Block Island, in winds around 30 plus knots, with boatspeeds steadily over 20.
Then the first of several strong gusts hit and Blue Yankee rounded up rather suddenly. We are still getting to know the boat and how quickly she loads up, and this wipe out was a bit of a surprise, to say the least. Just plain too much sail up in too much wind, with a header. Well, the carbon reaching strut shattered and then the guy snapped. So we were laid over, spinnaker flogging, main boom in the water and yours truly on helm trying to bear away. With the storm jib still up, it was possible. Around this time we saw Snow Lion beating upwind toward the Tower, did some rough calculations, and figured the corrected times might be close for the Race.
Finally, she answered the helm (always return the rudder to centerline after broaching, blow the vang, hike like crazy, and pray quickly) and bore away. We regained control with the tack of the asym on the tack line and were absolutely flying. The feeling on the helm was this combination was quite unsustainable. After about ten minutes, and another hard broach, I called for the 4A drop. The crew did an awesome job, got the 4A down quickly with a letterbox drop, and immediately set up the 5A reduced area heavy air fractional asym.
Under full main and 5A we were off again, laying Block Island on port and with much greater control than we had with the 4A masthead asym up. The discussion in the afterguard turned to how to navigate around Block Island and where to enter the Sound. The discussion could not last long, we were closing Block Island at over 20 knots! We were expecting a wind shift from the East to the Southeast, and wanted to position to the North as we entered the Sound, so that called for The Race. Accordingly a gybe around Block Island was in order. There was considerable apprehension onboard about getting the main across in 40 knots and the damage that might result from gybing. As the discussion peaked we got a lull and I called for the gybe. Of course as soon as the crew was ready to gybe (not long!), it started gusting 42 or 43 again. “Drop Spinnaker Now.” And we tacked bare headed (granny).
Always try to have some headsail up for tacking in heavy air. We almost did not make it. But the boat kept just a little speed and we were off again on starboard with full main aiming for the North side of The Race. Next debate – what headsail or spinnaker? Ian Walker and Tim Powell argued for the Jib Top which was a great call, and we made short work of Rhode Island Sound on starboard, aiming for Race Rock, winds gusting 40 plus, and steady boatspeed still around 20 plus. I think this is where Tim hit the peak speed for the Race of 29.6.
We approached The Race at the end of the ebb, and I used binoculars to confirm my fears, overfalls on every wave. We had already discovered that Blue Yankee will bury her bow in the big short seas, and I was sure that the overfalls in The Race would present one of the biggest challenges to finishing this Race.
Tim did a superb job helming through these waves. Heading up at just the right time, and skillfully guiding the boat through this minefield. His Volvo experience shined through, and he said later that it rarely got this bad even on the Volvo race. In truth this is one of the longest periods of sustained gales I have experienced to date, certainly on Long Island Sound, and rivaled only by the Hemingway Cup and Sardinia Cup.
We were breathing a little easier after making it through The Race, and planning a strategy of three tacks into the finish back in Stamford. Eddie Warden Owen came up on deck and started to quiz us. What is the highest gust you have seen? What are we going to do if it really picks up? His questions were well presented. Shortly thereafter we started seeing gusts into the 50’s. The full main and jib top was clearly too much sail. We brought the masthead starboard halyard aft and secured it to the spinnaker turning block padeye to add support to the mast. Next decision – how do shorten sail on this dead run?
Mother nature left us very little time for discussion. Several more gusts into the 50’s and skipper Bob Towse instructed us to shorten sail. We sent the bow team, lead by Mitch White, forward and dropped the Jib Top. It washed part way overboard, and broke a couple of stanchions in the process, but the crew wrestled it back aboard. Now bare headed, we luffed head to wind in 50 knots, and dropped the main.
The sail came down well to the second reef, but the lock mechanism there was problematic and it took awhile to drop it all the way. Again, the crew did a superb job and got the sail secured to the boom with lashing. Tried to bare away, not possible. Hoisted the Storm Jib, and the boat answered the helm immediately.
Once running with the Storm Jib, we quickly got the Storm Trysail set and were making steady speeds around 15 knots in the winds still gusting over 50. After several minutes we regained the nerve to replace the Storm Jib with the #4. Good call, and we made great progress Westerly down the Sound, straight toward the center of Ernesto!
This storm was one of the rare occasions where I have actually sailed downwind into the strongest winds. Usually the gusts overtake you from astern. On this run home to Stamford, I actually felt like I was being sucked into the center of the low. The further West we sailed downwind, the windier it got! Around this time we recorded the peak gust for the Race at 62 knots!
Running on starboard with the Storm Trysail and #4, and the whole crew of 20 in the stern, Ian Walker suggested we needed a jib trimmer to tend the genoa sheet. Just as he said it, I hit a wave, the sheet bounced out of the self-tailer, and the #4 immediately started flogging in front of the boat with both sheets flailing in front of it. Not good. I said to Mitch White our bowman “I guess you better take it down.” He said something like thanks a lot and took his team to the bow again to try and get it down. They got it down but we hit several waves and it nearly washed overboard. To their credit they saved the sail, and themselves, but it was dicey to say the least.
Next, the Storm Jib went back up as we approached the Cowes Buoy. The sail combination was ideal for the reach into the finish behind the breakwater, and we crossed the finish line reaching faster than 20 knots, in 50 knots of wind!
Blue Yankee completed the course of 238 nm in 25 hours 20 minutes and 2 seconds elapsed time, to win the race in the IRC Fleet with a corrected time of 37:44:51. Snow Lion placed second with Lora Ann third. Blue Yankee was awarded several trophies:
The Nina Trophy – First boat to round Buzzard’s Tower and finish
The Jig Time Performance Trophy – Best corrected time IRC from Buzzard’s Tower to the finish
The Bill Luders Trophy – Fastest elapsed time IRC
Nirvana Trophy – Best Vineyard Performance by a 3 boat team (for Storm Trysail’s Red Team with Lora Ann and Googolplex)
Vineyard Lightship – Best corrected time IRC
Northern Ocean Racing Trophy – For the NORT Series
Back ashore as night fell there were no lights on in Norwalk. Ernesto had knocked out the power and there were trees down all over the place. The next day the local news reported 150,000 homes without electricity in the area.
The crew of Blue Yankee -
Towse, Robert – skipper, navigator, and owner
Backus, Justin
Benjamin, Steve - helmsman
Clark, Chris
Jurkowski, Dave
Kane, Rob - mate
Kelly, Matt
Murphy, Jordy
Newkirk, Bill - captain
Ogden, Spencer
Malloy, Chris
McCarthy, Tom
Means, Artie
Spinney, Lat
Powell, Tim – watch captain
Reynolds, Matt
Walker, Ian - helmsman
Warden Owen, Eddie
White, Mitch - bowman
Williams, Chris
by Steve Benjamin
The weather for the 2006 Vineyard Race presented a unique set of challenges. Hurricane Ernesto was progressing Northerly up the East Coast. Meanwhile a potent Canadian High was steadfastly holding ground in the Northeast. The combined counter-rotating pressure systems produced a funnel effect focusing the strongest winds over Western Long Island Sound on Saturday afternoon.
There were 53 entries in the fleet, 27 boats that actually started, and only 3 that finished: Blue Yankee (RP 66), Snow Lion (Ker 50, and Lora Ann (Express 37).
Aboard Blue Yankee we had maxed out the crew to our IRC limit of 20 and left the dock in Stamford about 3:00 pm for our 4:20 pm start of IRC Class Super Zero (Class 8). Our plan to start with the full main and best genoa quickly got modified when we saw solid white caps on the Sound and steady winds over 20 knots, directly out of the East, putting the first mark Buzzards Tower precisely upwind and 120 miles away. The decision to start with the first reef, and # 4 genoa was reached, and executed inside Stamford harbor.
We held starboard tack off the line, to get some current relief off Smith Reef and Long Neck Point in Darien, in the last of the flood. Quickly we realized our biggest adversary would be the waves. Blue Yankee’s targets call for 10.5 knots upwind in winds over 20 knots. But we found that pounding into the waves at that speed would almost certainly break either the boat, or the crew, or maybe both! So we began to formulate a plan to minimize exposure to the seaway.
In an Easterly on LIS there are not many places to hide. We decided to tack to port off Long Neck Point, and laid a course SE for Long Island. After about five minutes on port we slammed into some huge seas and broke the #4 carbon/kevlar genoa. The sail came down, and we replaced it with our next smallest genoa – the Storm Jib. The Storm Jib with the single reef main was a good sail combination, and took us all the way to the Tower.
On port we fetched Eaton’s Neck, and carried on into Smithtown Bay. Normally you would never sail inside Smithtown Bay fearing light winds, however in this Easterly gale the Bay (South of the Line of Death) provided welcome relief from the waves on Long Island Sound, and five to ten knots less wind. Meanwhile, Chris Williams of North Sails was below repairing the damage to the #4 so we could use that sail again if conditions moderated (they didn’t, but we got the sail up on the run home).
At each point especially off Port Jefferson we had to step out into the Sound, and throttle back, to avoid damage. Past Port Jefferson we found relief from the seaway all the way East to Horton Neck, where a discussion among the afterguard about the best solution to exit the Sound ensued. Basically there were two choices since we were determined to avoid The Race. One option was to tack starboard and go North of Fishers Island, where I was certain there would be calm seas. The Northerly solution was appealing, but the navigation through Fishers Island Sound, especially at night in winds gusting over 30, was daunting.
We decided to exit the Sound through the Gut which was a good solution. Nice and flat seas and the wind angle kept us beating on port tack. We ignored the conventional strategy of short tacking Plum Island in the early flood, and held port for a landfall just West of Gardiners Island looking for relief from the seaway. After a short starboard tack out and around 1GI on the North side of Gardiners Island, we held a long port for Montauk. Again, we found relief from the seas the closer we got to the South Fork.
I was really worried about setting out across Rhode Island Sound on the long starboard from Montauk, but it was not as bad as I expected, and there was no choice except turning back, and that was not going to happen. We were able to make a landfall West of Point Judith, and tacked in toward Newport around daybreak on Saturday morning. We might have overdone our strategy of staying close to land, we saw the orange barrels and wire fish nets off Sakonnet and tacked out right away!
As we approached Buzzards Tower around 10:15 am on Saturday, the wind temporarily dropped below 30 knots. Thinking about the run home, and reviewing our forecasts which said the winds would peak between 9 and 12 on Saturday, we decided to shake the first reef before reaching the Tower, since it would be very hard to do downwind. Bad idea!
At the Tower the spinnaker decision was mine. Tim Powell asked for the masthead 3A and I should have listened. Thinking we had true running conditions in under 30, and checking the polar sailchart, I called for the 4A (maximum size masthead runner). The combination worked great for about fifteen minutes and we were off, hell bent for Block Island, in winds around 30 plus knots, with boatspeeds steadily over 20.
Then the first of several strong gusts hit and Blue Yankee rounded up rather suddenly. We are still getting to know the boat and how quickly she loads up, and this wipe out was a bit of a surprise, to say the least. Just plain too much sail up in too much wind, with a header. Well, the carbon reaching strut shattered and then the guy snapped. So we were laid over, spinnaker flogging, main boom in the water and yours truly on helm trying to bear away. With the storm jib still up, it was possible. Around this time we saw Snow Lion beating upwind toward the Tower, did some rough calculations, and figured the corrected times might be close for the Race.
Finally, she answered the helm (always return the rudder to centerline after broaching, blow the vang, hike like crazy, and pray quickly) and bore away. We regained control with the tack of the asym on the tack line and were absolutely flying. The feeling on the helm was this combination was quite unsustainable. After about ten minutes, and another hard broach, I called for the 4A drop. The crew did an awesome job, got the 4A down quickly with a letterbox drop, and immediately set up the 5A reduced area heavy air fractional asym.
Under full main and 5A we were off again, laying Block Island on port and with much greater control than we had with the 4A masthead asym up. The discussion in the afterguard turned to how to navigate around Block Island and where to enter the Sound. The discussion could not last long, we were closing Block Island at over 20 knots! We were expecting a wind shift from the East to the Southeast, and wanted to position to the North as we entered the Sound, so that called for The Race. Accordingly a gybe around Block Island was in order. There was considerable apprehension onboard about getting the main across in 40 knots and the damage that might result from gybing. As the discussion peaked we got a lull and I called for the gybe. Of course as soon as the crew was ready to gybe (not long!), it started gusting 42 or 43 again. “Drop Spinnaker Now.” And we tacked bare headed (granny).
Always try to have some headsail up for tacking in heavy air. We almost did not make it. But the boat kept just a little speed and we were off again on starboard with full main aiming for the North side of The Race. Next debate – what headsail or spinnaker? Ian Walker and Tim Powell argued for the Jib Top which was a great call, and we made short work of Rhode Island Sound on starboard, aiming for Race Rock, winds gusting 40 plus, and steady boatspeed still around 20 plus. I think this is where Tim hit the peak speed for the Race of 29.6.
We approached The Race at the end of the ebb, and I used binoculars to confirm my fears, overfalls on every wave. We had already discovered that Blue Yankee will bury her bow in the big short seas, and I was sure that the overfalls in The Race would present one of the biggest challenges to finishing this Race.
Tim did a superb job helming through these waves. Heading up at just the right time, and skillfully guiding the boat through this minefield. His Volvo experience shined through, and he said later that it rarely got this bad even on the Volvo race. In truth this is one of the longest periods of sustained gales I have experienced to date, certainly on Long Island Sound, and rivaled only by the Hemingway Cup and Sardinia Cup.
We were breathing a little easier after making it through The Race, and planning a strategy of three tacks into the finish back in Stamford. Eddie Warden Owen came up on deck and started to quiz us. What is the highest gust you have seen? What are we going to do if it really picks up? His questions were well presented. Shortly thereafter we started seeing gusts into the 50’s. The full main and jib top was clearly too much sail. We brought the masthead starboard halyard aft and secured it to the spinnaker turning block padeye to add support to the mast. Next decision – how do shorten sail on this dead run?
Mother nature left us very little time for discussion. Several more gusts into the 50’s and skipper Bob Towse instructed us to shorten sail. We sent the bow team, lead by Mitch White, forward and dropped the Jib Top. It washed part way overboard, and broke a couple of stanchions in the process, but the crew wrestled it back aboard. Now bare headed, we luffed head to wind in 50 knots, and dropped the main.
The sail came down well to the second reef, but the lock mechanism there was problematic and it took awhile to drop it all the way. Again, the crew did a superb job and got the sail secured to the boom with lashing. Tried to bare away, not possible. Hoisted the Storm Jib, and the boat answered the helm immediately.
Once running with the Storm Jib, we quickly got the Storm Trysail set and were making steady speeds around 15 knots in the winds still gusting over 50. After several minutes we regained the nerve to replace the Storm Jib with the #4. Good call, and we made great progress Westerly down the Sound, straight toward the center of Ernesto!
This storm was one of the rare occasions where I have actually sailed downwind into the strongest winds. Usually the gusts overtake you from astern. On this run home to Stamford, I actually felt like I was being sucked into the center of the low. The further West we sailed downwind, the windier it got! Around this time we recorded the peak gust for the Race at 62 knots!
Running on starboard with the Storm Trysail and #4, and the whole crew of 20 in the stern, Ian Walker suggested we needed a jib trimmer to tend the genoa sheet. Just as he said it, I hit a wave, the sheet bounced out of the self-tailer, and the #4 immediately started flogging in front of the boat with both sheets flailing in front of it. Not good. I said to Mitch White our bowman “I guess you better take it down.” He said something like thanks a lot and took his team to the bow again to try and get it down. They got it down but we hit several waves and it nearly washed overboard. To their credit they saved the sail, and themselves, but it was dicey to say the least.
Next, the Storm Jib went back up as we approached the Cowes Buoy. The sail combination was ideal for the reach into the finish behind the breakwater, and we crossed the finish line reaching faster than 20 knots, in 50 knots of wind!
Blue Yankee completed the course of 238 nm in 25 hours 20 minutes and 2 seconds elapsed time, to win the race in the IRC Fleet with a corrected time of 37:44:51. Snow Lion placed second with Lora Ann third. Blue Yankee was awarded several trophies:
The Nina Trophy – First boat to round Buzzard’s Tower and finish
The Jig Time Performance Trophy – Best corrected time IRC from Buzzard’s Tower to the finish
The Bill Luders Trophy – Fastest elapsed time IRC
Nirvana Trophy – Best Vineyard Performance by a 3 boat team (for Storm Trysail’s Red Team with Lora Ann and Googolplex)
Vineyard Lightship – Best corrected time IRC
Northern Ocean Racing Trophy – For the NORT Series
Back ashore as night fell there were no lights on in Norwalk. Ernesto had knocked out the power and there were trees down all over the place. The next day the local news reported 150,000 homes without electricity in the area.
The crew of Blue Yankee -
Towse, Robert – skipper, navigator, and owner
Backus, Justin
Benjamin, Steve - helmsman
Clark, Chris
Jurkowski, Dave
Kane, Rob - mate
Kelly, Matt
Murphy, Jordy
Newkirk, Bill - captain
Ogden, Spencer
Malloy, Chris
McCarthy, Tom
Means, Artie
Spinney, Lat
Powell, Tim – watch captain
Reynolds, Matt
Walker, Ian - helmsman
Warden Owen, Eddie
White, Mitch - bowman
Williams, Chris
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Emma Goes Brown
There can't be much in life that's more intimidating than an Aikido test. The yudansha (black belts) sit in a line — strictly in order of rank, of course — in a corner of the dojo. You stand alone at the shomen (the front of the room). The Sensei (principal teacher) calls students up to the shomen, one at a time, to serve as uké (attacker). The other students sit in their own line toward the rear of the dojo. Each uké attacks, and for an hour and a half everyone sees exactly what you can do.
Mostly it goes on in silence, but every so often the yudansha comment. Sometimes they make demands: "From that entry, show me a corner throw from ten-kon," or "I want to see four variations on nikkyo." Sometimes (and never good times) they offer appraisals: "That's not gonna work" or just "Oooff!"
Last night was Emma's turn. Below black belt, there are seven kyus (ranks), and the more highly you rank, the lower is the number of your kyu. These ranks correspond to belt colors, or course: seventh kyu is white, kyus six through four are blue, and kyus three through one are brown. Emma's been at fourth kyu for some time, so this test was a fairly big one — the chance to move up from blue to brown belt.
She was great! The test was harder than any she's taken before, precisely because she was going for a higher rank. She was expected to know more, but on top of that the attackers (especially those at higher levels) attacked harder. Didn't matter; she passed it easily (although she probably wouldn't have used that word) and is now a brown belt!
Mostly it goes on in silence, but every so often the yudansha comment. Sometimes they make demands: "From that entry, show me a corner throw from ten-kon," or "I want to see four variations on nikkyo." Sometimes (and never good times) they offer appraisals: "That's not gonna work" or just "Oooff!"
Last night was Emma's turn. Below black belt, there are seven kyus (ranks), and the more highly you rank, the lower is the number of your kyu. These ranks correspond to belt colors, or course: seventh kyu is white, kyus six through four are blue, and kyus three through one are brown. Emma's been at fourth kyu for some time, so this test was a fairly big one — the chance to move up from blue to brown belt.
She was great! The test was harder than any she's taken before, precisely because she was going for a higher rank. She was expected to know more, but on top of that the attackers (especially those at higher levels) attacked harder. Didn't matter; she passed it easily (although she probably wouldn't have used that word) and is now a brown belt!
 |  |
| Emma demonstrates her technique on her hapless dad. | Emma, sporting her new brown belt, surrenders her old blue belt to Sensei. |
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Did it look like this?
Can you imagine what a kraken could do to a Sunfish? Fortunately there are no reliable records of a kraken ever venturing into Barnegat Bay. But, as Ol' Charlie used to say, "that bay is full of strange critters."
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Kraken Alert
I warned you all about krakens, a month or so ago, and you skoffed. And yet, on a visit to the supermarket today, there was the Weekly World News proclaiming, "Giant Squid Attacks Jersey Shore!" and "Terror From Deep Unleashes Its Fury!" Still you may skoff, but the Weekly World News does not call itself "The World's Only Reliable Newspaper" for nothing.....
Sound Familiar?
Plane crash off Hyannis stuns beachgoers
Pilot swims away with no injuries after engine fails
By Maria Cramer, Globe Staff | August 6, 2006
Sandy Griffin was sitting comfortably in a small sailboat off Hyannis yesterday when she heard the sound of an engine sputtering.
She looked up to see a small red and white single-engine plane carrying an advertising banner descend rapidly toward the water.
The plane flew just a few feet over a man paddling in a kayak, she said, and according to police touched down on an isolated part of Kalmus Beach three times before it crashed nose first into the ocean, not far from hundreds of stunned beachgoers .
Griffin, a nurse's assistant from Falmouth, managed to take pictures as her 26-year-old daughter screamed and her 23-year-old son sat in stunned silence.
``It was nerve-racking," she said a few hours later yesterday, in a telephone interview. Minutes after the splashy nose dive , she saw a man furiously swimming away from the plane as rescue boats rushed to the scene.
The crash occurred shortly before 1 p.m. near the village of Hyannis. The pilot was the only person aboard and was not injured, according to Federal Aviation Administration spokeswoman Arlene Murray.
Barnstable Police identified the pilot as Matthew Benard, who is 27 and lives in Melrose. He has been a licensed pilot since 2001, said Barnstable sergeant Ben Baxter , who helped fish Benard out of the water.
``He was upset," Baxter said. ``He was full of adrenaline."
Benard was taken to Cape Cod Hospital as a precautionary measure and released, Baxter said .
Christy Mihos, the independent gubernatorial candidate, was on the deck of his Cape Cod home, about to bite into a roast beef and blue cheese sandwich when he saw the plane go into the water.
``My wife and I were watching," Mihos said. ``You could tell something was terribly wrong." He said the Hyannis harbormaster towed the plane to a sandbar.
``It's a miracle the way the thing went in [that] the pilot is OK," he said.
Mihos said he and his son rushed to their inflatable boat and sped off toward the accident to rescue the pilot. But the Coast Guard beat them to it, Mihos said in a phone interview.
Mihos, who stayed in the water for about an hour to make sure oil did not drip into the ocean, said he never got to finish his sandwich.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Yachty Newport
Rosemary and I took a day trip to Newport last Saturday and happened upon the International Yacht Restoration School, a very cool 2 year program where one spends the first year restoring a beetle cat that anyone would think beyond repair let alone worthy of restoration. (The Beetle Cat is a 12 foot, gaff rigged, wooden sailboat first built in 1921 by the Beetle family of New Bedford, Massachusetts. Beetle, Inc., located in Wareham, Massachusetts, is now the sole builder of Beetle Cat boats.)
We were also able to peek in at the "Coronet", a 133-foot schooner yacht built in 1885, also being restored by students at the school.
We were also able to peek in at the "Coronet", a 133-foot schooner yacht built in 1885, also being restored by students at the school.
Windy Thursday
On Thursday, July 27, Dave and I decided to sail from Loveladies to the Surf City Yacht Club. As usual the wind was light as we left the dock. As it has been almost every day in the latter part of July, the wind was very strong once we got into the bay. Surf City beckoned several miles upwind so away we sailed. I think it took me about twenty tacks just to get past the Osprey nest and reach Harvey Cedars. But, it was exciting to be out there on a windy day and we continued on. Once we rounded the big island off of Harvey C. the bay opens up and the wind was stronger and the waves were bigger. The waves were big enough that it was crash and splash all the way. I was getting soaked and my gloves were just wet rags on my hands. I had to tack just about every minute because my hands and arms were too tired to hold the main sheet any longer. But turn back? Never! Actually I kept thinking about it but Dave was 20 boat lengths ahead of me and I couldn't shout loud enough for him to hear me and I didn't want to turn back without letting him know. We had to maintain diligent boat balance to keep from capsizing. I decided to sail closer to the shoreline where the waves were smaller. Dave went further out into the middle bay. The next time we crossed tacks he must have been fifty boat lenghts ahead. But, no matter what I wasn't going out into the middle of the bay beacause of the bigger waves and I didn't want to cross the boat channel. My arms were getting more tired and I couldn't sheet in all the way and so my tacks were not really getting me much upwind payoff. It was almost like I was just reaching back and forth and gaining about 100 feet each tack. Eventually I actually saw the goal line...the Surf City Yacht Club flagpole. Dave seemed to be almost there, about a mile ahead of me. Give up? No way. I think it took me about five hundred tacks to get to the club from Loveladies. But I got there. We sailed around the club and the members there looked at us and I wonder what they thought about these two guys in Sunfishes just out for a lovely day sail. Our sail downwind was about as fast as you can go in this boat with the wind behind you. The boats were about 2/3s out of the water. Off the wind my aching arms recovered pretty quickly. When we reached Maris Stella we turned in to wave to the sisters.
It was a week ago today. I wish that I could go out again.
It was a week ago today. I wish that I could go out again.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Kraken? We're not afraid of any krakens
oh and stu got a new boom at the harvey cedars marina yesterday and the wind has diminished significantly so we are back in business!!!
Monday, July 10, 2006
Our Federal Tax Dollars at Work
A conversation between Linda and Stuart on the beach this afternoon began something like this: "I think there is a certain point at which the wind speed is too powerful for a sunfish, I'm not sure what that is though."
Today we found out what that is. Linda was literally flying across the bay, waves slamming over the side, thinking to herself, I wonder where Stu is. I hope he comes out soon, I wonder if he sees how fast I am going... Next thing I knew I looked over and saw Stu -- then saw him capsized. Tried to sail over to him downwind and then was going so f'in fast I had to undo the figure 8 knot in my mainsheet and just let it go. Cruised over to him using just the current to find out that his boom had snapped. Kind people on the nearby dock called the COAST GUARD who came by and towed him back home. oh and full disclosure mandates that i also was towed back to safety by a jetski.
Today we found out what that is. Linda was literally flying across the bay, waves slamming over the side, thinking to herself, I wonder where Stu is. I hope he comes out soon, I wonder if he sees how fast I am going... Next thing I knew I looked over and saw Stu -- then saw him capsized. Tried to sail over to him downwind and then was going so f'in fast I had to undo the figure 8 knot in my mainsheet and just let it go. Cruised over to him using just the current to find out that his boom had snapped. Kind people on the nearby dock called the COAST GUARD who came by and towed him back home. oh and full disclosure mandates that i also was towed back to safety by a jetski.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Friday, June 23, 2006
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Getting Ready for the Shore
We got the boats out this weekend. Of course, the closest that they got to the water is what came out of the garden hose - but at least they're shipshape!
Sunday, June 18, 2006
News from Columbus
it hasn't hit the news feeds yet, but i just got a call from my very good source at the episcopal convention that they elected a woman as presiding bishop.
Friday, June 16, 2006
If its all the same with you judge, I'll take the $30
T minus 30 days & counting until I'm sipping a Loveladies Daiquiri on the deck overlooking Little Egg Harbor.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Friday, June 02, 2006
ursprache
Katharine Close, an 8th grader from Spring Lake, New Jersey spelled "ursprache" correctly to become the National Spelling Bee Champion. She is also reported to be a pretty good sailor.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
took cher out on cape cod bay yesterday
that's it - thought i'd share... conditions were perfect and a good time was had. the summer has begun. no i did not take this photo but this is pamet harbor, where i went out. the water looks quite calm in this picture, but yesterday there were good sized waves pretty far out. whee.
happy birthday mom!!
Thursday, May 18, 2006
fashion
don't even think of showing up at lbi in board shorts this season! unless of course you bring a board. does a sunfish qualify as a "board"?
Dress Codes
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
cool water
Jodi Hilton for The New York Times
Nick Baggetta, right, got help from a neighbor and fellow state trooper, Ted Downer, in removing items from his home in Methuen, Mass.
Anyone care to guess what these "items" were?
Friday, May 12, 2006
hot drawing action
A drawing of Vanessa's was chosen as the 'student art winner' and published in the San Diego City College's annual art and literary journal, City Works.
Each spring City Works publishes what its student and faculty editors regard as the best writing and artwork submitted from students, faculty and staff at San Diego City College, as well as from the San Diego community and the nation at large.
Each spring City Works publishes what its student and faculty editors regard as the best writing and artwork submitted from students, faculty and staff at San Diego City College, as well as from the San Diego community and the nation at large.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Full Participation
Allow me to direct your attention to page 88 of 2006-2007 International Sunfish Class Association Handbook. What? You don't have one?
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Friday, April 28, 2006
More Hot Sailing
Overall April Capri 22 Race Results
1st Place - David Christie
2nd Place - Dennis Burks
3rd Place - Clay Karmel
1st Place - David Christie
2nd Place - Dennis Burks
3rd Place - Clay Karmel
Friday, April 14, 2006
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Hot Sailing Action!
Last Sunday was the annual Opening Day Race at Harbor Sailboats, a random-leg race all over San Diego Bay in which boats of all classes are welcome to compete. You’ve heard all that before. This year, though, there was a twist: the race committee brought along a video camera and got some exciting footage of the start.
It focuses, at the outset, on a couple of boats already rather out of things, then pans to our great friend and archrival, Steve McNally. He, unlike the others, has lined up his start beautifully: sailing in a boat called Echo just off the wind on starboard, he turns up at just the right moment, trims sails, and looks to reach the line with clear air right as the horn sounds. But suddenly, from nowhere, comes Alpha — its crew constisting of Emma, Ross, and Dave — and smokes him, taking the windward position to win the start.
We may have led at the start, but Steve smoked us at the finish, after a really great race that saw the lead change many times among us, Steve, and a professional sailor named Ray Treppa. At the end it was Steve in first, with us taking third, some two and a half minutes behind him after three and a half hours of sailing. FUN!
The video’s pretty cool. To see it, click here. (And, as we say in the computer biz, the file may take a few moments to load. Please be patient.)
It focuses, at the outset, on a couple of boats already rather out of things, then pans to our great friend and archrival, Steve McNally. He, unlike the others, has lined up his start beautifully: sailing in a boat called Echo just off the wind on starboard, he turns up at just the right moment, trims sails, and looks to reach the line with clear air right as the horn sounds. But suddenly, from nowhere, comes Alpha — its crew constisting of Emma, Ross, and Dave — and smokes him, taking the windward position to win the start.
We may have led at the start, but Steve smoked us at the finish, after a really great race that saw the lead change many times among us, Steve, and a professional sailor named Ray Treppa. At the end it was Steve in first, with us taking third, some two and a half minutes behind him after three and a half hours of sailing. FUN!
The video’s pretty cool. To see it, click here. (And, as we say in the computer biz, the file may take a few moments to load. Please be patient.)
Saturday, April 08, 2006
It's Raining, It's Pouring . . .
And all of it is backing up in front of our house!
This is in front of our neighbor's house. The hazard cones are in front of our house.
The right-hand side is sort of what it's supposed to look like.
Many, many years ago, Myrtle Avenue had cobblestone gutters to handle all of the rainwater that flowed down the street. They worked, but not terribly well. We complained to the town, because the street was collapsing in front of our house, creating a hazardous circumstance (along with many of the neighbors, our cobblestones had long been paved over) (one of our other neighbors had a far more dangerous circumstance as well). Eventually, the town came in with a plan to put underground pipes to carry the water, and belgian block curbs to make the street look nice. But the head of the historic preservation group lives two houses up from us, and so the project had to be reengineered to restore all of the gutters. This would have required an additional assessment, but the town was going to get an historic preservation grant from the state. So far, everyone was reasonably happy (the project was delayed a year, but we could live with it). Then came March, and the town announced that it didn't get the grant but it would do the project anyway. They came in, start taking down trees and digging four - five foot deep trenches. We were all confused, but figured they knew what they were doing. Then they started laying cobblestone (actually - very large rocks) and we realized that this was it - the plan was for a four foot deep trench (or moat, as we all like to call them). Imagine the cars falling in and not being able to get out! Imagine small children falling in and not being able to get out! Imagine the (literally) hundreds of emails circulating among the neighbors and the town! Long story (relatively) short - the mayor comes to view, issues a 'stop work' order, the plan gets (again) reengineered, and they should be starting up again this week. In the meantime, since they're half done (of course, the 'stop work' order came through after digging our moat, but before installing the cobblestones), all the water rushes down the street and now deadends in front of our house. Instant swimming pool!
This is in front of our neighbor's house. The hazard cones are in front of our house.
The right-hand side is sort of what it's supposed to look like.
Many, many years ago, Myrtle Avenue had cobblestone gutters to handle all of the rainwater that flowed down the street. They worked, but not terribly well. We complained to the town, because the street was collapsing in front of our house, creating a hazardous circumstance (along with many of the neighbors, our cobblestones had long been paved over) (one of our other neighbors had a far more dangerous circumstance as well). Eventually, the town came in with a plan to put underground pipes to carry the water, and belgian block curbs to make the street look nice. But the head of the historic preservation group lives two houses up from us, and so the project had to be reengineered to restore all of the gutters. This would have required an additional assessment, but the town was going to get an historic preservation grant from the state. So far, everyone was reasonably happy (the project was delayed a year, but we could live with it). Then came March, and the town announced that it didn't get the grant but it would do the project anyway. They came in, start taking down trees and digging four - five foot deep trenches. We were all confused, but figured they knew what they were doing. Then they started laying cobblestone (actually - very large rocks) and we realized that this was it - the plan was for a four foot deep trench (or moat, as we all like to call them). Imagine the cars falling in and not being able to get out! Imagine small children falling in and not being able to get out! Imagine the (literally) hundreds of emails circulating among the neighbors and the town! Long story (relatively) short - the mayor comes to view, issues a 'stop work' order, the plan gets (again) reengineered, and they should be starting up again this week. In the meantime, since they're half done (of course, the 'stop work' order came through after digging our moat, but before installing the cobblestones), all the water rushes down the street and now deadends in front of our house. Instant swimming pool!
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Sunny Southern Cal
Here's a view of my back yard after a little winter storm blew through — not much for a New Englander, I know, but rather unusual around here. I was supposed to go racing today; I guess I'm glad the skipper discovered some damage to his boat and had to cancel so that repairs could be made.
By the way, Traci & I sailed with the mystery crew, a newbie, because we waited to reserve a boat for so long that there were no longer boats to be had. Sailing with her was the only way we could sail at all. Her name (I think) was Adrian, although she let it be known that she preferred to be called "Elena." So of course I said that my name is David but I preferred to be called Dimitri. No, I didn't really......
Friday, March 10, 2006
The March Lions & Lambs
The racing season has begun here in San Diego. That is, for me it has begun. For Dave it kinda never stops. Anyway, the first races of 2006 out of the Harbor Sailboats Club took place on Sunday, February 26. At race time, 1:00, there was absolutely no wind. We had to keep turning on our engines to stay close to the starting area. The first race start was postponed until the wind came up a little which was at about 1:30. We had a good group of 12 boats with a few newcomers who haven't had much race experience. Dave teamed up with friend Traci and another woman whose name I forget. Kyle and I raced in another boat. D, T & ? sailed well and had two first place finishes but one stinky race out of the five races on the afternoon. They took third on the day. K & I were very middle of the pack and took fifth overall. This Sunday we all race again. We have a big storm coming at us and so Sunday's races may get very interesting. We will see who are the lions and who are the lambs. One thing is for sure, it is going to be a foul weather gear day. I'm psyched. I love bad weather.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Torino 2006 Olympic Games
Final Torino 2006 Olympics Medal Count:
Franklin Lakes/Mahwah, New Jersey: 0
Montclair, New Jersey: 0
Roslindale, Massachusetts: 0*
La Jolla, California: 0**
Carlsbad, California: 1, GOLD, Shaun White, Snowboarding
*Courtney Kennedy, Woburn, Mass(only a snowballs throw away from Roslindale), Bronze, Ice Hockey
**Sasha Cohen's mother lives in La Jolla
Franklin Lakes/Mahwah, New Jersey: 0
Montclair, New Jersey: 0
Roslindale, Massachusetts: 0*
La Jolla, California: 0**
Carlsbad, California: 1, GOLD, Shaun White, Snowboarding
*Courtney Kennedy, Woburn, Mass(only a snowballs throw away from Roslindale), Bronze, Ice Hockey
**Sasha Cohen's mother lives in La Jolla
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
You asked for it...
Another victim who foolishly came up from behind without following proper hunting protocol.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Thursday, January 19, 2006
the bridge to nowhere?
This is the lastest report from New Jersey Audubon...
The Barnegat Light BLACK GUILLEMOT is no longer reliable, but was
rediscovered Jan. 4 and seen again Jan. 12 at the inlet. It
apparently is wandering further south down the bay with unconfirmed
reports from 15th and 18th Streets in the marinas there in Barnegat
Light during the last week. Barnegat Light State Park is hosting a
state record number of Common Eiders with as many as 138 reported
there along with one female King Eider Jan. 6 and 7. Harlequin Ducks
at Barnegat Light State Park total 33, along with 50 Snow Buntings
Jan. 8, several Purple Sandpipers and one Red Knot Jan. 5 to 8.
A DICKCISSEL was discovered in Manahawkin on Jan. 8 at the
intersection of Bay Avenue and Rt. 9 and three ROUGH-LEGGED HAWKS
were noted at the bridge to nowhere at the end of Stafford Avenue.
I sure hope these nice birds decide to stay until July 8. See you all then.
The Barnegat Light BLACK GUILLEMOT is no longer reliable, but was
rediscovered Jan. 4 and seen again Jan. 12 at the inlet. It
apparently is wandering further south down the bay with unconfirmed
reports from 15th and 18th Streets in the marinas there in Barnegat
Light during the last week. Barnegat Light State Park is hosting a
state record number of Common Eiders with as many as 138 reported
there along with one female King Eider Jan. 6 and 7. Harlequin Ducks
at Barnegat Light State Park total 33, along with 50 Snow Buntings
Jan. 8, several Purple Sandpipers and one Red Knot Jan. 5 to 8.
A DICKCISSEL was discovered in Manahawkin on Jan. 8 at the
intersection of Bay Avenue and Rt. 9 and three ROUGH-LEGGED HAWKS
were noted at the bridge to nowhere at the end of Stafford Avenue.
I sure hope these nice birds decide to stay until July 8. See you all then.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Goin' Fast
I just read about a boat in the Volvo Ocean Challenge Race that set a new world monohull distance record of 563 nautical miles for 24 hours. That is an average speed of 23.4 knots! Holy Sunfish. The Southern Ocean between Cape Horn and Sydney is howling. I think that Dave is the only one among us to have experienced serious speed in a large sailboat during a race in gnarly weather and his boat was quite a few notches below 23.4 knots. When he returned from that race he looked like he was returning from a war. How do these guys manage to race under these insane conditions? Go faster boat, hold on everybody.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Happy New Year 2006
How I spent my New Years morning (not hung over)...somewhere between yachting and crabbing: pelagic birding on a fishing boat for four hours with the San Diego Field Ornithologists. Short-tailed Shearwater to port!
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