Another Boat for My Fleet

The Winter 2009 Capri 22 series — four Saturdays of sailing — involved a mess 'o boats (seven on each of the first three days, five on the last, not always the same boats), but in the end it came down to three of us: Ross and me, Lisa Karmel, and Dennis Burks. In eighteen races, the three of us took the top three places eleven times, and in the remaining seven races, two of us were among the top three five times.

Ours, however, was the only boat in the top three every day, and the top one on two of the four days. (Enough numbers!) Through the first three days, I remember frustratingly light air, some truly awful starts, and some great recovery sailing. Once, on a four-leg race when for much of the race the wind was no more than two knots, we were near the back of the fleet and literally 80 boat lengths behind the leaders, but still managed to come in second (and seriously challenge for first).

We started the last day ahead by nine points (numbers again?!), so we had no real worries, but wanted to finish first in a race or two (after having finished no higher than second the previous two days). We were looking at another deadly still day — the flags were limp when we arrived at the club. But the wind picked up to about fifteen knots — right where we big boys like it (you may have heard rumors about how much weight we lost for the NOODs, and they're true, but I at least gained my weight back as fast as I could). I remember a particularly fun port-tack start ("Starboard!" yelled other skippers; "Hit me if you can," thought I) and a couple of firsts, including a last race that involved a particularly clean start and a wire-to-wire, horizon-job lead.

All of which led to this:

 

You'll be glad to know I was wearing my Maris Stella shirt as I accepted the trophy...

There I Am!

There I am in today's San Diego newspaper in a story about Swainson hawk migration. That's me (well, 10% of me) all the way to the left behind the guy looking through the telescope. Blue jeans, dark blue sweatshirt (with my elbow sticking out as I am holding my binoculars) and brown boots. This from Wednesday morning when I got up at 4:30 to get out to the desert by sunrise to see the hawks take off. The photographer took some better shots with me in it, he even asked me to spell my name, but the good pics didn't make the paper. That's famous desert hawk-watcher "Raptor Hal" all the way to the right.

A Peaceful Sail

You can just make out Dave's hair flying in the wind (about 20 knots) as the third person on the rail, behind Kirsten and Randy. Peace out.

check out the sail number

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The Albatross

painting by Vanessa

"You can call me Captain from now on"

Ms. Kool was nothing if not pragmatic. On one widely reported occasion, the Jean K collided with another ship in a dense fog and sent her hurtling overboard, where she risked being sucked under by the ship’s propeller. A piece of timber floated by and she grabbed it, as the ship’s passengers hurled life preservers down at her.

“I’m already floating,” Ms. Kool hollered up at them. “Stop throwing useless stuff at me and send a boat!”