At Radio City Music Hall: 3-D Glasses!

I've done it; Have you?

I have my renewed ISCA membership card - sail # 80015. It is proof that I have joined over 1900 other sailors in support of the Sunfish Class. Being a member entitles me to race at World Championship events.

While we wait

cher and cher II (aka puffin)

I Want a Million Points!

 

Meet Cathy of Encinitas, California, who tells me she visits LBI every other year. While in California, she adds, she can always tell if a person she meets is from New Jersey by the reaction to her sweat shirt.

Let’s Talk About Sailing

You may recall that back when the fires were raging, Emma and I were evacuated and wound up taking Raven and Nemo on a little “stationary sail.” Here’s what it looks like when dogs are at the helm:

 

But while we rested at port under canine command, I found I liked the boat so much that I had to take it out for some actual sailing. So Ross and I went out last week from San Diego Bay, rounded Point Loma, went out to sea a bit to avoid the kelp beds, then tacked back and forth to fetch the opening to Mission Bay. Didn’t quite make it all the way, but so what, when we spent an entire day that looked like this:

 

Plus we got to make a daring hat-overboard rescue, saw a mysterious wave moving against the swell that may have been the wake of a blue whale but probably wasn’t, drank some beer, and got to wear shorts in November.

We covered a total of about 18 nautical miles CMG (a shiny copper to anyone who can say what that stands for) and returned in darkness (sunset at 16:44, and sailing after dark is a treat in itself). Too slow? Not for my tastes; give me a brisk six knots any time!

In your face msmollin!

Better Them Than Me, Part Two

We all love sailing, but face it: sailboats are kinda slow. So perhaps we should all try the airborne sport demonstrated in the video at this link. Or maybe not! I don’t think there’s any camera trickery here — just some insane people who can’t buy insurance.

P.S. Beat MsMolin! Go Ex-Pats!

As Long As We're Not Talking About Sailing

Look to the Monday/Tuesday Men's Fall '07.

Ex-Pats rule! Especially over our arch rivals, Egan's OPT!

it's a horse race

in the absence of any sailing related news, we must turn our attention to the Nike+ challenge to your left, in which the race has tightened up to be a mere 10 miles separating 3 of the top 5 contenders ("ElizabethAnn" doesn't count because rumor has it that "ElizabethAnn" is actually a robot). Sunfishgirl, it's time to pick up your pace and leave msmollin behind!

These are not clouds

Here's the view from the end of my street. It's all smoke from one of the many fires buring in San Diego Country right now. For the time being, it appears that this fire is buring a little south of us and moving from east to west. More to come....

Believe

This picture may look alot like last week's picture, with the only difference being my Red Sox Nation citizenship is far more obvious. Today it was 82 and much lighter winds. We discovered that Hingham Harbor becomes very Barnegat Bay-like at low tide. About a foot deep in some areas. With a mucky bottom that almost sucked me in up to my knees. Today we made it out all the way to Boston Harbor and back.

So this is sailing in New England in October

Yesterday we went out in 15-20mph winds. As soon as we made it out of the more or less protected Hingham harbor into the more open Hingham Bay, there were huge waves and white caps so we quickly surfed back to Hingham harbor (wheee!) and had a fine time sailing back and forth in relatively warm conditions without capsizing.

"I will not drive over the speed limit."
"I will not drive over the speed limit."

We did it!

Captain and crew

OK so we didn't really have all of the rigging figured out... next time! You can see Boston in the distance.

In the parking lot after the sail, wondering if we will be able to unstep the really huge mast without breaking everything.

2007 Crabber of the Year

Nominations are now open.


I nominate...myself:

caught, barehanded, 1 sandcrab.

devoured, 2 crabcake sandwiches.

watched, 1 SpongeBob SquarePants episode featuring Mr. Krabs.

Poor Little Rhode Island LBI'er

I know you all want to see real pictures of Cher II, but for now...

Puffin

The lengths some people will go to have something to blog about....

Route 9 East, Framingham, MA

Surfer Girl

LBI 2007

Rounding the Mark

Grey sky & pretty sails.

A year of planning, and they picked this week???

For those of you who have left the NJ region, here's a brief description of the weather in relation to the 2007 Sunfish World Championship race schedule:

Saturday, 8/18 - travel day - warm and sunny;
Sunday, 8/19 - practice race - dark and drizzly;
Monday, 8/20 - first race day - rain;
Tuesday, 8/21 - second race day - LOTS of rain;
Wednesday, 8/22 - third race day - overcast and rain;
Thursday, 8/23 - last race day - overcast and rain, skies clearing by nightfall;
Friday, 8/24 - boat return - warm and sunny.

Sunfish Worlds - Brant Beach Y C

Sailing fast & we know just how fast!

Catch a Wave and You're Sittin on Top of the World

Today, August 1, 2007 Caroline and I each caught waves and rode them. Standing. 2 or 3 each. The water today was better than I have ever experienced on LBI.

Bumper Sticker Question

How do I transfer a cell phone picture (LBTBP on a Prius parked on Torrey Pines Rd, San Diego) to a computer? Do I need a fancy USB cable? That's Long Beach Township Beach Patrol, baby!

The Boy Who Lived?

Vanessa and I went to the local bookstore's midnight Harry Potter party last night and by 12:30 we had our books. By 1:30 Vanessa was already chapters ahead of me (she started reading in the car while I drove home). I went to bed. When I woke up at 7:30 Vanessa was still awake and about 3/4 through the book. By 9:00 am she had finished the story of Harry Potter.

I'm on chapter 7. Don't anybody tell me anything.

My old daggerboard

If you ever wondered what the inside of your daggerboard looked like, there are about 40 of these metal rods that are really hard to saw through! Which sort of explains why they are so expensive. When I first broke the end off I could see the two metal thingies in the top picture and thought "No sweat I can saw through those!" Only of course to have it turn into a much harder project. But now I have a brand new daggerboard with silly rope handle and one patented custom Barnegat Bay length daggerboard.

Soliciting Opinions

Captains: What do we think of the Vanguard 15?

As seen on our trip to Canada

Emma's New Favorite Place

Wow! An entire museum in Germany, dedicated to Dance Dance Revolution!!

Got Miles?

Why isn't Sunfish Girl in the top 4? It's too much work to scroll down.

So This Is What Life Is Like

I was on my way to work last Friday when all of a sudden an object flew off a truck ahead of me and hit the windshield of my Prius. I didn’t see any immediate damage and thought perhaps it had hit the roof, but acutally it had hit the exact edge of the windshield, so that it was only on the drive home that cracks appeared, spreading long and fast.

So, time to get a new windshield. I called a glass company, which said it would send a guy out on Monday, but when Monday came the company called back saying the guy was sick and the supplier didn’t have the proper windshield and would Tuesday be ok? While my mind asked, Do I have a choice? my mouth said Sure, and for the Monday I swapped cars with Emma, thinking that she had a scant mile to drive to her job, and on local roads at that, so the cracked windshield was unlikely to present her any problems. Oddly enough, I was unequivocally right for a change.

That left me driving the old Accord to Irvine and, saints be praised, it got all the way there. And all the way back, too, but at the beginning of the drive back… it happened. Just south of the 5-405 merge (if you happen to know the area), where the traffic always settles down to a sedate seven or so miles per hour, I saw it. One lane to the left, one position ahead of me, a car with an LBI sticker on its bumper. I immediately reached for my camera, which I always keep in the arm-rest compartment between the front seats expressly for this purpose, and I realized:

I’m in the WRONG CAR!!! AAAAaaahhhhhhhhhh!

Oh well. At least the glass people came on Tuesday, and the Prius looks awfully nice without any cracks in its windshield……

Daggerboard change

Notice the new daggerboard design. "The daggerboard mold was modified after a sailor lost a finger tip slamming the previous style daggerboard with the large opening and blue rubber stops and the stops broke off."

However, "In the course of the redesign of the mold, the shape of the part of the board that extends beneath the hull and its length were inadvertently changed slightly." Rendering the new daggerboard "class illegal".

Why do we care? Be careful slamming your daggerboard I guess!!!

I like this rule

However, a boat not racing shall not be penalized for breaking one of these rules, except rule 22.1.

22.1 If reasonably possible, a boat not racing shall not interfere with a boat that is racing.

How are you going to penalize a boat not racing?

Force them to play one round of

My Second Favorite Racing Rule

Rule 45 (and, once again, italics mine):

"A boat shall be afloat and off moorings at her preparatory signal. Thereafter, she shall not be hauled out or made fast except to bail out, reef sails or make repairs. She may anchor or the crew may stand on the bottom. She shall recover the anchor before continuing in the race unless she is unable to do so."

On the bottom of what? My first thought was the bottom of the boat, in which case I hope the crew can hold its breath and has a finely tuned sense of balance (as well as a finely tuned sense of the absurd). So I guess it means the bottom, as in where the water meets the underlying muck, which isn't of much use if you're racing out in the Pacific or anywhere else that the water's more than seven feet deep (there's that crew holding its breath again).

On the other hand, the latter interpretation works fine if you happen to be sailing Sunfish in Barnegat Bay. I can't wait for August!!!!

In any case, I hope "she" recovers her crew along with her anchor.....

Sunday Morning Birding

standing from left: Ross, Terry, Trent, Barbie, Guy, Gjon, Shellie (in shorts!), Eitan, Lea, Matt
seated: Lauren
June 10, 2007
La Jolla Cove
Sunday morning, 10June, was a pleasant 59 degrees at 7 a.m. at LaJolla Cove, however, calm winds and seas made for few seabirds for more than 15 birders lined up at telescopes behind Stan’s Bench - but no puffins or guillemot…. and no Stan (!!). A few far-distant Sooties were spotted, but otherwise nothing much was happening until Guy McCaskie called out “Brown Booby!” and all present watched it fly in and over and around the myriad kayaks on the glassy water for more than five minutes. The young bird settled on the water a few times and made at least one booby-like plunge dive before turning back and heading south. Photo by Sue Smith

My 360th San Diego County Bird.

The King of Lightnings

Back in the day, when we were Lighning sailors with the Surf City Yacht Club, we sailed against some pretty big names in the Lightning Class. There was one guy though who dominated for a decade or more. His name was Bruce Goldsmith. Occasionally Jack or Howard would beat him (epecially when the race was on Barnegat Bay) but Bruce Goldsmith was king. He was known as the "Living Lightning Legend." Unfortunately he died last week in a sailing accident during a race on Lake Erie. There has been a lot written about him the past few days but I just wanted to forward one story I read that I think tells much about the kind of guy he was as well as the talent he has as a sailor....



Bruce, with his luminous charisma was the life of every party. Everyone felt they were Bruce's friend- and they were. He had the amazing knack to make anyone feel special, welcome and a part of the gang.

But perhaps what was most extraordinary about Bruce was his ability to "keep it all in perspective". No matter what was happening around him, Bruce made sure he held everything in perspective. It seemed that for Bruce, life was always too short to not enjoy it to the fullest... and that was his greatest talent and lesson for all of us.

In one race, a “number” of years ago, Bruce taught us many lessons, but again, "perspective" was the most valuable lesson. I was crewing with my brother in a Lightning North Americans and we were super deep, with a whole 2 boats behind us, in the last leg of the last race. ..We were struggling with the whole "keep it all in perspective" thing for sure. Interestingly enough, Bruce was just ahead of us (that would make him 3rd to last!) and evidently he could tell we were struggling with "perspective" and needed some coaching. Bruce turned around, opened up his cooler and smiled. "C'mon guys, lighten up a bit. It’s just a race." and he chucked us 3 beers.

We then watched Bruce round the leeward mark and proceed to sail through the fleet that last weather leg, nailing one shift after another, sailing around one boat after another...until he worked his way back to the top 5 .

What you need to appreciate is that with that top 5 finish, Bruce and his team sailed themselves back into the lead, the overall win and Bruce's 4th Lightning North American Championship victory.

Have I Forgotten Something?

Let’s see: car keys — check. Glasses… Damn! I have five pairs of glasses and I can never… Oh, there’s a pair. Wallet, phone — check. Account of the final day in the May regatta… Oops!! Well, some things I try to forget….

Actually, the day didn’t start all that badly. There was a good breeze, and current was not a factor, although there was kelp. We had a good start in the first race, sailed a solid upwind leg, and rounded the mark in first place, with Clay a short distance behind. Alas, we went right and he went left, and left turned out to be the better side; Clay edged us at the finish by about a foot. Still, we were in pretty good shape, now tied overall with the Matts (who took a distant third), only a point behind Clay, and sailing pretty well.

In the second race we got an even better start, hitting the line right at the starting gun but forcing Clay outside of the committee boat. In the early going we led, but we seemed to sail more slowly than other boats. Did I mention there was kelp? There was so much that a person of about Caroline’s weight could probably have walked across the bay. We’d snagged some, although we took a while to realize it. Finally, Ross checked the rudder, removed a small forest from it, and we instantly sped up, but by this time Clay and the Matts had caught us.

Even so, it was still very much a race, until…. We reached what should have been the lay line, tacked onto starboard, and watched as Clay’s wife sailed a collision course on port (and in her own boat, not Clay’s), blithely ignoring us. We hailed her, but by the time she responded, it was too late — we had to point into the wind to avoid a collision, came to a stop, and watched our competition sail away. By the time we got going again we could no longer stand the mark and had to make a couple of extra tacks. The result: Clay took first (again), and we almost caught the Matts, but ended half a boat length behind them, somewhere in the middle of the fleet.

I don’t think she did it on purpose….

Two more races remained, but by this time the regatta was pretty much settled. Not that we accepted our fate. For the third race the race committee responded to changing wind by changing the starting line a bit. The new line favored a port-tack start from the pin end, and we attempted it, but the kelp was so think at that end of the line that we couldn’t maneuver as freely as we would have liked. The result: I seem to recall that we sailed upwind and down, and ended just behind the Matts, with Clay in first. Fourth race: starboard-tack start, but otherwise ditto. And in the end, I’ve got a new third-place plastic boat to add to my trophy fleet.

Got those Fran Temme blues….. But June’s coming up!

It Doesn’t Get Any Closer Than This

With two evenings of racing behind us and two to go, the Delta Force were ahead, but it was known that they would miss evening three and so put themselves out of contention. That left things to us, the Matts a couple of points behind us, and Clay a couple of points behind them. (“The Matts,” by the way, are two guys who usually sail together and who both happen to be named Matt.)

It was a tricky evening — another one with strong current and moderate wind that lightened as time passed. With the current against us on the upwind leg, the right side was heavily favored. That’s because the course was set up so that “the right side” constituted a narrow corridor along the Harbor Island shoreline, and the current there was relatively weak owing to friction with the land. You’ve all been there, and so I trust you can picture the very large rocks along that shore. I hope Tom (the Harbor Sailboats owner) wasn’t watching.

Because one side was so heavily favored going upwind (and, for that matter, the other side going down), tactics were reduced to a minimum. You were either on the correct side with clear wind, or you weren’t. Which meant either you got a good start or you didn’t.

We didn’t. No excuse to offer; I just wasn’t reading the line right. To clear our wind in the first race, we initially went left, and every time we tried to go right, someone tacked on top of us and we had to go left again. We battled with the Matts, but somewhere way, way ahead of them and us was Clay. He had gotten to the right. The result: Clay first, Matts fifth, us sixth.

We actually sailed quite well once we got off the line and found some clear air, particularly downwind, which turned out to be a pretty good thing in the second race. Again, a good start for Clay and a mediocre start for us. We were somewhere in the middle of the fleet (eight boats this particular evening, by the way) at the upwind mark, but then we passed boats on the downwind leg. Clay ended in first, but we were second, with the Matts perhaps a foot behind us. Very tense!

Then races three and four were really between Clay and the Matts. Somehow I wasn’t hitting the starts well and that threw off each entire race. But in each, Clay and the Matts were feet apart, doing everything they could to press rules advantages and gain an edge. Both races ended with the Matts first, Clay a hairsbreadth behind in second, and us in comfortable third (not threatening them, but no one else threatening us either).

And so, with one evening’s racing left, we have three boats within one point — the Matts are ahead, Clay is three-quarters of a point behind them, and we’re one-quarter of a point behind Clay. It all comes down to Tuesday!

Ordinance about ordnance

After removing 1,111 pieces of potentially explosive military ordnance from the sand and surf, the United States Army Corps of Engineers is ready to declare the beaches here (Surf City) and in neighboring Ship Bottom safe and recommend that they be reopened in time for Memorial Day.

So, once the State Department of Environmental Protection approves, the “Beach Closed” signs will come down. But in their place will be new signs prohibiting beachgoers from using metal detectors or digging deeper than a foot into the sand. These “land-use controls” will be posted at every entrance and on every lifeguard stand along the 1.4 miles of affected beach on Long Beach Island.

Better Them Than Me

Those of you who remember some challenging Sunfish conditions last summer may be amused to watch this — Laser racing, San Francisco Bay, 40 knots!

Whew… That’s More Like It

Our May regatta began back on the 1st, and if last week passing without a blog entry seemed somehow suspect, then you’re right: I chose not to write about a performance with which we weren’t all that happy. Fortunately, we made amends last night, and so I can scribble away once more.

First, the 1st: It was one of those bizarre evenings when there’s massive current and little wind. So little, in fact, that we could only manage to get in two races. What’s more, there is (perhaps was?) another rental organization on Harbor Island that sponsored its own series of Capri 22 races, but it seems to have disbanded, and a couple of their racers have joined our club. So the honor of our club was at stake: We had to put these new guys in their place.

Or not! The Delta Force (ok, we introduced ourselves to them, and they introduced themselves to us, and we forget their names, and they forget our names, but they’re nice guys and they sail in a boat called Delta) managed to pin us a bit at the start, but we held even with them up the first leg. As we converged on the upwind mark, I misread the current and had to make an extra tack. Clay it was who actually reached the mark first; the Delta Force slipped ahead of us; after an uneventful downwind leg, that’s the order in which we finished.

Then came the second race, in which the Delta Force got most of the way up the first leg just as the wind absolutely died. They had enough momentum to round the mark; now the current would carry them to the finish even without benefit of wind, while it pushed the rest of us in the wrong direction. Boats painstakingly worked their way far above the ordinary lay line, turned for the mark, only to have the current, in the absence of any wind, sweep them below the line again. It was pretty funny when it happened to other boats and not so funny when it happened to us. The Delta Force finished the race half an hour before anyone else rounded the upwind mark, Clay finished third, and we ended up (yikes!) eighth.

But that was then and this is now.

Last night, Ross got there early, we talked about things we needed to change, we sailed a bit, judged the wind and current, and mapped our strategy. Once the first race finally started, we got a fine start, and reached the first mark third, with both Clay and the Delta Force well behind us. (Clay, in fact, was trying desperately to stave off an unaccustomed last-place showing, and — forgive me my weakness, but I loved it — the screaming at the top mark between his boat and the other contender for last was, I think, audible in Tijuana.) We sailed a fine downwind leg, passed the two boats, and finished first.

Second race, we were in position for another good start, but apparently crossed the line about a second early. At least, the race committee thought so. Two other boats did as well (cross early, that is), one of them Clay. We came back, cleared the line, sailed a solid upwind leg and, by the time we reached the upwind mark, we were back in the thick of things. Perhaps a little too thick. We approached on port, another boat approached on starboard, we judged that we could reach the lay line just in time to tack, but we found that a third boat was pretty much head to wind at the upwind mark, stalled. Bozos!

We had no choice but to halt our tack to keep from hitting him, and the only legitimate boat of the three struck us, his bow banging our outboard engine. (And why does that count? I don’t want that stinking thing on my boat anyway!) Yet we were third around the upwind mark, easily passed the head-to-wind laggards, and bore down on the leaders — the Delta Force. As we neared the finish line, we were gaining seriously and you could see panic on their faces. But then, at the last minute, we did our penalty turn and dropped from second to fourth. We probably didn’t sail best in the first race; we unquestionably sailed better than anyone in the second. First and Fourth. Go figure.

On to the third race, the last and a three-legger. We approached the first (upwind) mark in third place — Delta Force in first, and Clay rounding the mark as we approached. He’d had a horrible night — tenth and eighth so far. Every time we were in earshot of him, he was calling a foul on someone. Anger will vent itself. Now it was our turn. He was on starboard and we on port, and although we were well clear of him, he turned in our direction, turned away, and called a foul. The putz.

But this isn’t the American judicial system (if, in the Bush era, we still have one). When you’re accused of a foul, you have to prove yourself innocent. So what a thing it is to have Houdini on board, working his escape artistry. As we sailed downwind on the second leg, Ross noticed that Clay’s inexperienced crew, while winging the jib, had extended his leg outside the lifeline. Oops! That’s a foul. You call one on us, we’ll call one on you.

So, at the downwind leg, the Delta Force were first, Clay was a close second, we were a close third. No one else (out of, I don’t know, ten boats total) mattered. DF and C went right; we went left. Their mistake. It was as if we were sailing in a dream. At one point Ross asked if I wanted to change the sail trim, but I knew all he really wanted was to hear me say (as, in fact, I did), “No, this is perfect!” We crossed in front of them and finished first.

So now we’re in good shape. We were first on the night, and although the Delta Force remain a few points ahead of us overall, they will miss next Tuesday’s racing (I genuinely regret to say it) and so put themselves well out of the running. That leaves us and Clay, and we’re comfortably ahead. More news next week!

Yachtswoman Linda

Yachtswoman Vanessa

Yachtswoman Emma

Yachtswoman Caroline

Bobby "Boris" Pickett, One-Hit-Wonder

Bobby "Boris" Pickett, whose dead-on Boris Karloff impression propelled the Halloween anthem to the top of the charts in 1962, making him one of pop music's most enduring one-hit wonders, has died of leukemia. He was 69.

It was October 31, 1987, the 25th anniversary of the Monster Mash. John's band, of which I was a tangential member, J.T.'s Mardi Gras Band and The Lawnchair Ladies, was playing at a dive bar in Cambridge. Paula learned that Bobby was in town (he hailed from Somerville, Mass.) for the occasion and somehow tracked him down and convinced him to sing at the gig. He agreed on the condition that we provide an open bar for him and his girlfriend "Bree". Which we did. What a time it was.

Wally Schirra, Astronaut

Born: 1923, Hackensack, NJ
Died: 2007, La Jolla, CA

Grinding Stars & Stripes

Training for You Know What

Yesterday I ran the James Joyce Ramble 10K. My goal was to finish under the 10 minute mile and I accomplished that. My other goal was to partake in the free Harpoon Ale at the finish line and I accomplished that too. Interesting to note that the very last finisher on the results page is also the first in her age group. So that's def something to look forward to! (you can click the title of this post for the complete results page... Next year I will have to run a little harder to beat that Stuart Christie!)

They're Done!

Let’s see… Three races on the third day of a three-day series, times two boats in contention… Doesn’t that equal — 666?! Isn’t that — diabolical??!!

The first race went in our favor. A good start, first at the first mark, followed not all that far behind by Clay’s wife Lisa, who has been sailing her own boat throughout the series. Clay himself was way behind. We’d done well on the right side of the course going upwind, so we thought the same side (now left) going downwind would favor us. Wrong! Lisa and another boat went off to the right and steadily gained in better wind.

At the finish: Lisa first, the other boat (mea culpa; I forget who) ahead of us by about a foot, and us third. But Clay, having apparently had a horrible start, reached the upwind mark in the middle of the fleet, went off to the left just as we did, and had just as much trouble. Neither Lisa nor the other boat had any hope of winning the series, and Clay finished three boats behind us. For the three-day series, he still led, but we were now only half a point behind him.

Satan, get behind me! Call it what you will — pride, hubris, ambition, greed. We thought we had him.

In the second race, we had a good start, but so did Clay. We were upwind of him, but he was slightly ahead of us, and by the middle of the upwind leg, his lee-bow advantage began to tell. Standard strategy called for me to tack, and so I did, even though my tactician (that would be Ross) emphatically disagreed. Ross turned out to be correct; although the boat seemed to move better on the new tack, when we tacked back we had lost not only several boat lengths, but also several positions. In the end, Clay finished first, and we finished fourth, giving back everything we’d gained in the first race (plus a quarter point).

Note to self: From time to time, listen to your older brother.

Final race, and we needed to win by four positions. That wasn’t to happen. We tried to foul up his start, but he thwarted us, oddly enough, by reaching the line way too early. To have any effect on him, we had to go with him, so we were early too and just ran down the line with him, having essentially no effect on him. Turns out that messing with a guy at the start is pretty tricky.

It was a pretty standard upwind leg; Clay got there first, and we were a close second. On the downwind leg, both Clay and we stretched out on the rest of the fleet, but we gained nothing on Clay. Not that it mattered, since we needed to be not just ahead, but ahead with several boats between us. A final upwind leg saw no changes, so the final race mirrored the series as a whole: Clay first, us second.

In the end, he could match our speed upwind but point a degree or two higher. That’s just sail trim. We’ll make adjustments, and the May series is coming up. In the meantime, contrats to Clay!

P.S. Just Another Working Stiff: Last Friday, Emma spent her first day on the job as a stockroom employee of a clothing shop called Talbot’s. She got the job on her own, or at least with no prodding from me. We have an Aikido friend, a young woman named Bailey, who works at the store, knew of an opening, and suggested to Emma that she apply. Asked how her first day went, Emma said that it was ok, but she was really tired and her feet hurt. Welcome to the working world, babe! Only forty-four years until retirement!

Nyuk! Nyuk! Nyuk!

I think I know what happened: Somewhere out on the water on day two of our spring regatta, aliens implanted the spirits of the Three Stooges into our bodies. At least, when I woke up the next morning I felt as if my body had been used badly (I admit — the post-race tequila may account for that), and when I recalled the racing it seemed like slapstick humor.

Actually, the first race went fine. Ross arrive late-ish, as he had let me know beforehand that he would, but he made up for it by bringing Kyle with him. For my part, I had talked to the race committee beforehand, and he (a committee of one?) was kind enough to stall things a bit until we got out there.

So, we had a good start and went off to the right; Clay had a good start and went off to the left; about two-thirds of the way up the first leg we met in the middle of the course — Clay on port and we on starboard — and it was just close enough that he had to duck us. We probably should have tacked on top of him, but didn’t, and so at the next crossing (we were now on port, Clay on starboard), we had gained some, but not quite enough, and we needed to duck Clay. After a little more sailing, he reached the mark first, but we were only half a boat length behind.

But then he went left and we went right, and left was the way to go. He gained about five boat lengths before we realized our error and jibed, but he stayed those five boat lengths ahead until the finish line, and we were second.

We sailed that first race in bright sunshine, but as we waited for the second race to begin, a dense cloud cover overcame Point Loma and moved in from the west. I now know these were not clouds at all, but rather camouflage in which the alien mother ship lurked.

We were in position for a good start to the second race, at the right end of the line, approaching on starboard, when I saw Clay coming in on the left side, on port. It was as if he had put up a sign reading, “Hit Me!” I thought, “Why Not?” I altered course. It was then that Moe took the helm from me. At the same time, Kyle’s page-boy hair turned dark and, suddenly, he was Shemp! Ross’s hair turned frizzy and…Larry sat where Ross had sat before! And Moe (I) let Clay get by, flopped over onto port, realized he (I) would soon run afoul of other boats, flopped back onto starboard, by this time had almost no speed, and got a horrible start near the back of the fleet. I’m not sure but I think someone tried to poke him (me) in the eyes.

We recovered. I exorcised the spirit of Moe. Shemp and Larry resolved themselves back into Kyle and Ross. And we sailed a fine upwind leg reaching the mark third (out of eight boats). Clay was in first and, by this time, untouchable. The other boat ran down the middle of the course while we reached off to the right, he hit a dead spot while we flew along, and although we closed the gap between us hugely, we had necessarily sailed a longer course and finished, perhaps, two feet behind him. Clay first, us third.

Exorcism, it turns out, does not come cheaply. The Stooges returned in full force for race three. Moe had another horrible start and we crossed the start line in — dare I say it? — last place. We crossed the start line — dare I say it? — minutes after the race started. By this time we were poking eyes and wielding truncheons, and Curly wasn’t even there but he was slapping his head anyway.

And the wind was dying. And the current was strong, and against us. And there wasn’t going to be any repeat of the second-race comeback. We did finally reach the upwind mark, but we almost died of old age before it happened. At one point we were to the left of the “upwind” mark, about twenty yards away, and the wind was no longer so much dying as RIP, but the current was robust and, I swear, it was what pulled us off to the right and around the mark.

Of course, no one else was going anywhere either, apart from where the current was taking them. Except that damn Clay, who by the time we were midway down the “downwind” leg had rounded the downwind mark and was making his way to the finish, when…the race committee canceled the race for lack of wind.

Nyuk! Nyuk! Nyuk!

So, with one day left to sail, we’re now three and a half points out of first. Wish us luck!

P.S. After pretty much every Aikido class, the Aikidoko repair to a local pub — the Bull Pen — for a few beers and a little conversation. Last night, a few tables away, a young woman was wearing an LBI sweatshirt. My camera was in the car. I was thinking — HUGE POINTS!! Alas, I’m cursed with the ability to imagine what other people might think. So the idea of a middle-aged man walking up to a young woman, unknown to him, and saying, “Hey, could I take your picture an put it on my blog?” seemed too open to misunderstanding. I expect no points, but nevertheless, Emma’s my witness — we encountered an LBI sweatshirt in Encinitas!

I thought this was funny

They're Off!

A weird realization: A few years back, if I could have written “Out of thirteen boats, we finished tied for first,” I would have written it in all uppercase letters and thrown a couple of exclamation points behind it. These days, I think, “Well, that was fun, but we’ve got some work to do in the rest of this series.”

With the advent of daylight savings, the Harbor Sailboats Tuesday evening racing has started up again. Missing from the competitors were some old favorites: Steve McNally, that servant of the people, needs to attend SD city council meetings on Tuesdays (he’s the principal aide to a city councilman), and Traci Miller was who knows where? There were lots of new racers.

There was also serious competition: First, Harbor Sailboats itself put a boat in this race, skippered by Logan McDuffy, an actual professional captain. (A twenty-something kid as well, a refugee from New York, and an absolute delight.)

Perhaps more important, there was the new nemesis — Clay Karmel. He entered the fleet fairly recently. We’ve beaten him (“we,” of course, being Ross and me), and he’s beaten us — the latter (if I remember correctly) when we were penalized severely for missing races while attending to more important things on Long Beach Island. Most recently, he beat Steve in a series in which Ross and I were unable to race. Our principal goal — BEAT CLAY!!

As we sailed before the first race, we felt that the right side of the course was favored early — on starboard, immediately off the line, we were pointed almost directly at the upwind mark — but midway up the leg, a serious header set in. So as long as a boat stayed right early, it would be in a commanding position midway up the first beat. Or so we thought, but others didn’t — both Logan and Clay went left off the start. Turned out we were right — we got a good start, and our only company on the right side (although quite close company) was a boat sailed by one of the regulars (a guy named Arnaud). After some tussling, we established a lee-bow advantage on him and pulled ahead. Logan — the leader over on the left side — tacked and came at us, but we crossed ahead, tacked to cover him, tacked again and reached the mark first. THERE’S NO BETTER FEELING!!! (Oh, wait, control yourself.) If starboard early is favored going up, then port late is favored going down, so we reached off to the right side initially, gybed about midway down, and finished first. Logan was second, and Clay was third.

The strategy worked so well the first time, we tried it again in the second race. Worked just as well, even though the race committee decided, in mid race, to recognize the “funkiness” of the course and change the location of the finish line. (Mid race course changes are done all the time, by the way.) This time we were first and Clay was second.

An incendiary aside: As we milled about between races, a guy from another boat dissed my hat. My Sunfish hat. He said I’d worn it last year and it was time to give it a rest. DUDE, I BELONG TO MSYC AND THAT’S THAT!!!!!!!!! (Whoa, calm down….)

So — the wind changes, the tide changes, the course changes, and racers should change with them, and so we did, but not quite enough. At this point, we had not been behind any boat at any point in either race, and again we reached the first mark ahead. This time, though, Clay was close enough that the rounding involved some comments about room-at-the-mark rights. The wind was now rather fluky at that upper mark and it had cost us. Even so, we rounded ahead and lost it on the downward leg. Ross was gracious enough to say that there were perhaps some irregularities in the crew work, but in fact we were ahead and Clay sailed faster and that was either a very bizarre wind effect or, more likely, the combination of my steering and mainsail trim. Result: Clay first and us second, by about a foot. It was a really fun race.

Last race, three legs, and some newbie had the race of her life. Don’t even know her. After finishing last in the first race, ninth in the second race, and seventh in the third race, she improved considerably in the fourth: she led at the first mark and she led at the second mark and she looked real comfortable on the third leg. We were second at the upwind mark, and Clay a close third, but after some downwind fumbling those positions were reversed at the downwind mark. On the third leg we engaged Clay in a tacking duel in the hope of passing him; he covered us exactly as he should; and unfortunately Newbie reverted to form. In the end, Clay passed Newbie a foot or so before the finish line, and we came in third.

So in the end, Clay and we were tied exactly: 6.5 points apiece, and each with two finishes ahead of the other. Logan was in third, and no one else close.

OUT OF THIRTEEN BOATS, WE FINISHED TIED FOR FIRST!!!! Calm down? Hell no, it was too much fun.

My Favorite Racing Rule

Rule 47.2: "No person on board shall intentionally leave, except when ill or injured, or to help a person or vessel in danger, or to swim [italics mine]. A person leaving the boat by accident or to swim [italics still mine] shall be back on board before the boat continues in the race."

Uh... Skip?..... I know this race is close, dude, but I'm kinda really workin' up a sweat, so I'm gonna take a little dip, ok? You know, cause, like, it's in the rules.....

News From Surf City

SURF CITY, N.J., April 2 — Much of the sand along this popular 18-mile barrier island had washed away, leaving sections of beach with barely enough room to spread a towel.
April 3, 2007


When sand from the ocean floor was used to replenish the beach at Surf City, military fuses and adaptors turned up.
After battles with surfers fearful of shifting wave patterns and homeowners concerned that their expensive ocean views would be blocked by sand dunes, the United States Army Corps of Engineers got started, leaving behind a renourished 200-foot-wide beach in the middle of Long Beach Island.

That is not all it left, however. About a month ago it was discovered that mixed in with the 500,000 cubic yards of sand dredged from the ocean floor were several unexploded military fuses, and now the Corps of Engineers is racing to make sure that Surf City’s 1.4-mile stretch of beach — the lifeblood of this borough — will be safe for bathers when the season begins in two months.

“We have to verify if they’re dangerous, and then call the proper organizations out to clear them out, ” said Keith Watson, project manager from the Philadelphia office of the Corps of Engineers. “Depending on what we find, it could go from a little time to more than we want to know.”

This & That

Another Aikido Test: My turn! I told you about Emma’s test, but last Wednesday I stood at the shomen. It’s a blur. The salient point was being asked to do hanmi handachi (you’re on your knees, but your attacker is on his feet and fully mobile). I hadn’t practiced it in quite some time, but I knew that there’s a built-in advantage: The attacker has to come down to you, so you’ve automatically got him off balance. Of course, Sensei knew how to take that away: After some standard attacks, he said, “Ok, kick him.” Aaaaahhhhh!

But it all worked out. I didn’t get hurt (neither in the physical sense nor in the embarrassment sense), and I did advance two levels. I’m still a brown belt, but I’m at the highest level you can be without being black. If you’re at all interested in seeing pictures of this august event, go to http://www.sneakyfeetaikido.com/, then click on the Pictures link, and then on the Dave’s 1st Kyu Exam link (all the way at the bottom).

Your Government at Work: I received a letter from the IRS (be still my heart!). Gradually, I worked up the nerve to open it. “We changed your account,” it informed me. “The nerve!” I responded, although not out loud. Turns out they chose to investigate my 2004 tax return and discovered that I owed — gasp! — 86 cents.

Really. They sent me a letter to tell me that a two-year-old tax return was off by 86 CENTS.

They (And why “they”? They called themselves “we,” but the IRS is one thing, an “it”) concluded that the amount was too small to be considered, and ended their letter thus: “Please don’t send a payment.”

Ok.

As seen on Rt. 6 on Cape Cod

It's gotta count for something!

Click To Play

You Gotta Love New York

So . . . a week ago we were in sunny San Diego. A week later and it's snowing in New York. And it's not one of those beautiful December 'winter-wonderland' kind of snow storms - actually, it's pretty much slushing outside. Things are kind of slow in the office (as most brokers are cancelling meetings due to the weather), so I decide to go to lunch at one of my favorite local Tribeca restaurants - for a sandwich and some time to read (a history of the fall of Constantinople called "1453 - The Holy War for Constantinople and the Clash of Islam and the West" by Roger Crowley, if anyone's interested). I sit down at the bar - and of course the barman has read the book. So there we are, talking about Byzantine history until the next patron sits down - a guy (early 20's, grungy like a snowboarder, just finished college) visiting from San Diego. And not just San Diego, but from Carlsbad no less. A gradute of Carlsbad High (by the way - I hear that San Diegito is a pretty good school). And - gosh - you'll never guess what state his parents came from before moving to California. I thought about asking him if he had ever put Ho-Ho's in the refrigerator . . .

Kathy Kovler Cleared!

It was Caroline who put the Ho Hos in the refrigerator!!