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!

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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!!

San Diego 10 Day Weather Forecast

Sunny (& Cher)....daytime temps: upper 60's to low 70's

OF Course there is This

if you don't care for the Gilligan look, a steal at only $44!

For the Gents

Stars & Stripes Attire, Ladies

Getting Ready

Well, I wouldn’t go overboard (so to speak) buying things. The MSYC Sunfish cap is really the only required article of clothing.

I went sailing last weekend, and the weather was, by San Diego standards, rather wintery — a storm moving in and so overcast, rain forecast for later that night, and “strong” winds (about 12 to 15 knots). That means that I started out in shorts and a polo shirt, and after a couple of hours of sailing I put on my LBI fleece. I was comfortable the whole time.

That’s about as severe as it gets here. So, certainly, bring a sweater; bring shorts, but also long pants just in case. If it comes down to it, you’ll be welcome to my foul weather gear.

(Do you remember when we were kids that Dad would mention foul weather gear and you would think it was the funniest thing in the world? I think I remember, but my memories are always suspect; seems as I get older I invent more and more of them without realizing it.)

For your feet, a pair of Sperry Docksiders would be perfect if you have them, but if not, sneakers are fine. (Converse high tops, aka “Chucks,” are held to be particularly cool sailing shoes.) My own shoes are high-end Sperry that look like sneakers. The general rule of thumb — anything that provides some traction but does not leave scuffs.

I’m officially off work on the days you’ll be visiting. Can’t wait till you get here!

Preparation

What are we wearing for the Stars and Stripes sail? I mean I want to be prepared and there must be lots of stuff I need to buy. I don't want to show up and have them say "Sorry you can't come on the boat with those shoes" or some such comment. Of course I will be wearing my MSYC hat, that goes without saying. Jacket? Shorts? Long Pants? What??????

All You needed was a little Digital Enhancement

A picture worth a thousand....

points??? After looking at maybe a million/billion/trillion cars over the last several months I spotted this vehicle in a UCSD parking lot with New Jersey plates, a Sea View sticker (wherever that is) and a Ron Jon sticker. Now for some reason I see Ron Jon - Cocoa Beach, Florida T shirts and stickers somewhat regularly but this is probably the first time that I've seen a genuine Ron Jon sticker. Wow, was I excited. It was like striking gold. O.K., it wasn't EXIT 63 or LBI or a Barnegat Lighthouse sticker but Ron Jon represents LBI as well as any institution and so I figured that I scored some points. What I mean judges is that a Brant Beach Yacht Club, a Surf City 5 & 10, a Joe Pops Shore Bar or a Whites Deli sticker should be worth points if such stickers exist don't we all agree? I'm even on the lookout for Loveladies Art & Crafts Center or whatever they call themselves or Farah's rentals if I come across them. So, anyway I get out my camera and take three pictures which all look pretty good in the viewer and then I load them onto my computer. I can't believe it! I can't even tell by the picture that it is a New Jersey license plate. I can't read any of the Ron Jon letters. This is why I hate photography. My pictures always stink. At least there is a nice shadow of me taking the picture. Very nice. I suppose that I could get a much more expensive camera and maybe the pictures would turn out better. By the way I know the date thing on my camera is set incorrrectly. My only hope is that since we can see the large UCSD sticker in the window then obviously the owner is a UCSD student and perhaps this student will park again in a space that I will come across and I will take a super close up of Ron Jon. I am still on the lookout for the elusive EXIT 63 that I saw multiple times in La Jolla last year.

2007 Sunfish World Championship

Will be held August 19-24th at Brant Beach Yacht Club, which we all know is located on Long Beach Island.

here is the NOR!

"Sitting on the beach - Down the Shore"

Not sure you can see this but it appeared in the New York Times - New Jersey Section Today. Who is that girl in the bathing suit on the left?

What is Up wit dat

Chargers Shut Out Pats Fans

"The San Diego Chargers have restricted sales to the Divisional Playoff game to residents of Southern California and the surrounding areas only," Ticketmaster warned. Residency will be based on your credit card billing address. Orders by residents outside of southern California will be canceled without notice."

And more importantly, why is Southern California capitalized and then not capitalized. But interestingly enough, "canceled" can be spelled canceled or cancelled. How weird!

Nice day for the Beach!! In January????

Caroline has set a new Christie Family record ( we think?) . She went swimming at the Beach (Ocean Grove) in New Jersey on January 6!!. Skim boarding was great and the water was not as cold as one day in July.

GLOBAL WARMING?

A New Blogger?

Apparently there is a new "Blogger" which claims to have many new and improved features (naturally!). However, from what I can tell without switching over, it looks like all of us will need "Google Accounts" in order to post to msyc.blogspot.com in the future if I convert it over to the new system. While the improvements are dubious it's probably safe to say that eventually the new blogger will replace the old blogger so we might as well switch. I have a google account, how about the rest of us?

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!

you wanted legs

christmas day at the christies

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!

Yankee-Swap!!!

Yankee-Swap, "it's the hyphen"

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!!

For the Montclair Clan

Net Sister!

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!!

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!

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!

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?

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..

Captain Jack Spaniel

Avast! Trick grrrrrr Treat

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.

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

This Picture Reminds Me of a Certain Other Regatta

Greetings to Honorable Mama-san

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!

Emma demonstrates her technique on her hapless dad.	Emma, sporting her new brown belt, surrenders her old blue belt to Sensei.

Any Body Have $200,000 Handy?

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."

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.

Yachty Newport

International Yacht Restoration School, Newport
Originally uploaded by lindachr.

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.

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.

group minus montclair and rosemary

group minus montclair and rosemary
Originally uploaded by lindachr.

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!!!

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.

Stella !!!

Ready for the Shore

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!

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.

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.

crap!

they are backordered until 07/07/06

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.