Maris Stella Yacht Club and Crabbing SocietyMonday, October 31, 2005
Coincidence? I Think Not!
It all began with AWA713. Then (years later, I admit), I bought my first Accord and received at random a license plate on which the letter characters were MLC. Then Ross got his VKK license plate. Now the state of California has finally sent me the plates for my new car: 5RLS868. I want to know how come they left out the D?
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Mark Your Calendars
Only 47 days 10 hours 56 minutes until the December 14th release of the 3 hour long King Kong remake!
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Race Two
What could be more different? Gray, overcast, drizzly skies where the previous race day was sunny; light (almost no) wind when before there was plenty; and in place of the experienced Kyle, a jib trimmer who, it turned out, would be stepping into a sailboat for the very first time. Still, my lucky hat remained the same; let’s see what it could do for me.
First, the new crew (to introduce him) was Tyler Olmstead, a fellow Aikido student. After working out with him for several years, I knew that he possesses considerable stores of balance, timing, and natural physical ability, so despite his inexperience, I was confident. And by the end of the day, I was not at all disappointed.
We sailed another random-leg course, but because the wind was light, this course was considerably shorter than the first one (a fact that will resonate later in the story). The course meandered here and there through San Diego Bay, and, in an unusual touch, ended right off the Harbor Sailboats dock. This meant leaving the wide bay and traversing relatively narrow passages around the western tip of Harbor Island and then down its northern side.
Unlike the first race, this one decidedly favored a starboard-tack start, and we got the best of it. Midway up the first leg, though, we had a little “crew training” moment, which was enough to allow one boat, skippered by a guy named Dennis Burks, to reach the first mark just before us. That first mark was red 20, quite close to what is at that point the southern bank of the bay (called North Island; go figure). As so often happens, Dennis and I focused on one another, reaching out toward the middle of the bay, and let a third boat sail off on another heading, along North Island, to pass us. That would be our old pal Steve McNally. But before he could go too far on his own, I broke off to cover him while Dennis continued on to the left. The result was that Steve was first to the second mark, I was a close second, and others were farther behind.
Rounding that second mark (red 22, once again in case you have a chart), I managed to turn inside of Steve, and we were neck and neck. From here it was a long dash to the finish, close-hauled most of the way. (There was another mark along the way, but the course to the finish made it almost impossible to miss, so we pretty much ignored it.) At times, I was ahead of Steve; at times, he was ahead of me; and as we focused on one another (do I never learn?), Dennis came up into contention. As we approached that narrow passage around Harbor Island, they were both a bit ahead of me, but I was farther upwind and so narrowly in first.
When, doh! I tacked toward the passage around the tip of Harbor Island and discovered that I had miscalled the lay line. Needing therefore to make two extra tacks, I watched both Steve and then Dennis go by me.
But it wasn’t over yet. Close reaching around the western tip of the island, Steve and Dennis took each other a little wide, and I gained. Then broad reaching down the northern side of the island, I seemed to get my sails set a little better than the others. I didn’t have a chance to catch Steve (who ended up finishing first), but as I approached the finish line, I heard a voice from Dennis’s boat — “Oh no!” — as I came along side him with much better speed. And it ended .... with Dennis about a foot ahead of me. If the race course had been ten yards longer, I would have taken second. But I got an exciting third instead.
And so, with two races down and two to go, it’s McNally with three points, Christie with four, and the next nearest competitor with eight.
First, the new crew (to introduce him) was Tyler Olmstead, a fellow Aikido student. After working out with him for several years, I knew that he possesses considerable stores of balance, timing, and natural physical ability, so despite his inexperience, I was confident. And by the end of the day, I was not at all disappointed.
We sailed another random-leg course, but because the wind was light, this course was considerably shorter than the first one (a fact that will resonate later in the story). The course meandered here and there through San Diego Bay, and, in an unusual touch, ended right off the Harbor Sailboats dock. This meant leaving the wide bay and traversing relatively narrow passages around the western tip of Harbor Island and then down its northern side.
Unlike the first race, this one decidedly favored a starboard-tack start, and we got the best of it. Midway up the first leg, though, we had a little “crew training” moment, which was enough to allow one boat, skippered by a guy named Dennis Burks, to reach the first mark just before us. That first mark was red 20, quite close to what is at that point the southern bank of the bay (called North Island; go figure). As so often happens, Dennis and I focused on one another, reaching out toward the middle of the bay, and let a third boat sail off on another heading, along North Island, to pass us. That would be our old pal Steve McNally. But before he could go too far on his own, I broke off to cover him while Dennis continued on to the left. The result was that Steve was first to the second mark, I was a close second, and others were farther behind.
Rounding that second mark (red 22, once again in case you have a chart), I managed to turn inside of Steve, and we were neck and neck. From here it was a long dash to the finish, close-hauled most of the way. (There was another mark along the way, but the course to the finish made it almost impossible to miss, so we pretty much ignored it.) At times, I was ahead of Steve; at times, he was ahead of me; and as we focused on one another (do I never learn?), Dennis came up into contention. As we approached that narrow passage around Harbor Island, they were both a bit ahead of me, but I was farther upwind and so narrowly in first.
When, doh! I tacked toward the passage around the tip of Harbor Island and discovered that I had miscalled the lay line. Needing therefore to make two extra tacks, I watched both Steve and then Dennis go by me.
But it wasn’t over yet. Close reaching around the western tip of the island, Steve and Dennis took each other a little wide, and I gained. Then broad reaching down the northern side of the island, I seemed to get my sails set a little better than the others. I didn’t have a chance to catch Steve (who ended up finishing first), but as I approached the finish line, I heard a voice from Dennis’s boat — “Oh no!” — as I came along side him with much better speed. And it ended .... with Dennis about a foot ahead of me. If the race course had been ten yards longer, I would have taken second. But I got an exciting third instead.
And so, with two races down and two to go, it’s McNally with three points, Christie with four, and the next nearest competitor with eight.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
As long as we're on the topic of etymology
As long as we're on the topic of etymology:
"'Every man meets his Waterloo at last,' wrote the nineteenth-century American moralist Wendell Phillips, and the phrase has indeed slipped into the English language to imply that there is a fate, an inescapable destiny, awaiting us all." Andrew Roberts, Waterloo: The Battle for Modern Europe (HarperCollins, 2005).
So - the next time you're playing Hearts, think of the three-threes as a matter of morality.
"'Every man meets his Waterloo at last,' wrote the nineteenth-century American moralist Wendell Phillips, and the phrase has indeed slipped into the English language to imply that there is a fate, an inescapable destiny, awaiting us all." Andrew Roberts, Waterloo: The Battle for Modern Europe (HarperCollins, 2005).
So - the next time you're playing Hearts, think of the three-threes as a matter of morality.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Eat it & have it or Have it & eat it ?
I was net surfing and came across this:
[Q] From Colin Rogers and Alison Braid-Skolski: “We are perplexed by the confusing phrase have your cake and eat it. I have always thought this a common misconception and it should be eat your cake and have it?”
[A] Whoever expected English idioms to be logical? The usual way in which one sees this one is as the negative you can’t have your cake and eat it, expressing the idea that you have to make an either/or choice, that you can’t reconcile two mutually incompatible situations. It would be a little clearer if it were written as you can’t both have your cake and eat it. It would be more obviously the same as the other form if you also rewrote that as you can’t eat your cake and still have it.
Quite why the saying has settled on this form isn’t clear. I learned it as a youth as you can’t eat your cake and have it, too, and there are more examples in my databases that way than in the can’t have your cake and eat it inversion. Those who first used it certainly agreed with your sense of logic. Though presumably rather older, it is first written down in John Heywood’s A Dialogue Conteynyng Prouerbes and Epigrammes of 1562: “Wolde ye bothe eate your cake, and haue your cake?”. John Keats quoted it as eat your cake and have it at the beginning of his poem On Fame in 1816; Franklin D Roosevelt borrowed it in that form for his State of the Union Address in 1940; a search of nineteenth-century literature shows it to be about twice as common as the other. But a quick Google search shows the have your cake and eat it form is now about ten times as frequent, and all my dictionaries of idioms and proverbs cite it that way.
One of life’s little mysteries, I suppose. But whichever way you say it, you can be sure that it will be understood. So there’s no need to worry much over the logic!
[Q] From Colin Rogers and Alison Braid-Skolski: “We are perplexed by the confusing phrase have your cake and eat it. I have always thought this a common misconception and it should be eat your cake and have it?”
[A] Whoever expected English idioms to be logical? The usual way in which one sees this one is as the negative you can’t have your cake and eat it, expressing the idea that you have to make an either/or choice, that you can’t reconcile two mutually incompatible situations. It would be a little clearer if it were written as you can’t both have your cake and eat it. It would be more obviously the same as the other form if you also rewrote that as you can’t eat your cake and still have it.
Quite why the saying has settled on this form isn’t clear. I learned it as a youth as you can’t eat your cake and have it, too, and there are more examples in my databases that way than in the can’t have your cake and eat it inversion. Those who first used it certainly agreed with your sense of logic. Though presumably rather older, it is first written down in John Heywood’s A Dialogue Conteynyng Prouerbes and Epigrammes of 1562: “Wolde ye bothe eate your cake, and haue your cake?”. John Keats quoted it as eat your cake and have it at the beginning of his poem On Fame in 1816; Franklin D Roosevelt borrowed it in that form for his State of the Union Address in 1940; a search of nineteenth-century literature shows it to be about twice as common as the other. But a quick Google search shows the have your cake and eat it form is now about ten times as frequent, and all my dictionaries of idioms and proverbs cite it that way.
One of life’s little mysteries, I suppose. But whichever way you say it, you can be sure that it will be understood. So there’s no need to worry much over the logic!
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
It’s All in the Hat
You know the story. I bought a Harvey Cedars Marina hat, I wore it while taking two firsts on the first day of the Barnegat Light Regatta, I cavalierly gave the hat to Linda and bought a new one, only to have Linda clobber me in every race on the second day of the regatta. Obvious conclusion: I’d given away my luck along with the hat. The new chapeau was a dog.
Well not so fast...
I’ve been crewing quite a bit on Valhalla all the remainder of the summer, but I haven’t had a chance to skipper my own boat until last Saturday; working up in Irvine has prevented me from taking part in the Tuesday evening Capri 22 races. At long last, however, the racing shifted from Tuesdays to Saturdays, and there I was, with Midshipman Krabby Kyle as my able crew (he having found that his usual skipper has his own work-schedule conflicts). And I was wearing my second Harvey Cedars Marina hat. Yeah, my dog was barkin’.
There was a fairly strong breeze more or less out of the south — didn’t have an anemometer handy, but it was enough to raise whitecaps on a deepwater bay and make it something of a challenge to handle a small boat with enough sail area to be easily overpowered.
And on that breezy day we had a “random leg” race, stretching somewhere between 10 to 15 nautical miles around channel buoys in San Diego bay. (From off the eastern half of Harbor Island across the bay to red 20; on to green 15, about halfway between the southern end of Shelter Island and the end of Point Loma; back again to FM 19, off the eastern tip of Harbor Island; down to red 26 on the other side of the San Diego–Coronado Bridge; back to FM19; and then finishing where we started. Just in case you happen to have a chart.)
The start unequivocally favored a port tack, but of the eight boats sailing, only three of us seemed to notice. Of the three, I got the best start (I’m delighted to say), with Jon Miyate above but behind me on the unfavored end of a lee-bow placement, and Steve McNalley alongside but below me. The other five effectively put themselves out of the race at the start. (Although Traci Miller, a Valhalla shipmate skippering one of the starboard-tack starters, did manage to finish in third when all was said and done.) There were a couple of tacks along the way, but at red 20 Kyle and I were in first place.
Then it got interesting. The route from red 20 to green 15 was, for more than a mile, close-hauled on port tack; then (owing to the shape of the bay; our course had been westerly but veered into the south and into the wind) a quick starboard tack and another quick port tack. Along that long port tack, Jon neither gained nor fell behind, but Steve steadily gained, and gained, and gained, and finally got about a boat length ahead and upwind of me. But he took his starboard tack the moment he could, and I split tacks with him, staying on port perhaps five to ten minutes longer. By the time I went over to starboard and he came back onto port, I crossed ten boat lengths ahead of him. We talked later, and neither of us knew why. Maybe I hit a favorable current. Maybe it was my hat.
But anyway, the suspense ends there. Once I rounded the second mark (ahead), almost all the rest of the way was off the wind — beam to broad reach. Perhaps because I pay better attention to the trim of my sails (ask Kyle how often I made him make adjustments; I’d say about every 10 seconds), or have more experience sailing off the wind, or both, I just pulled away from everyone. Really, for your entertainment if for no other reason I wish I could make this more exciting, but I led by a lot at every mark — 10 to 20 lengths ahead of Steve and more than are worth counting ahead of everyone else.
(Yikes! Am I tempting fate! Allow me to remind you that I am an undistinguished technical writer and my Aikido is laughable.)
So, there’s nothing wrong with my hat after all. Of course, that means I can no longer blame it for my loss in the Barnegat Light Regatta. So let me say this: All you Harbor Sailboats racers, if you thought I was tough, just be glad you didn’t have to sail against my sister!
Well not so fast...
I’ve been crewing quite a bit on Valhalla all the remainder of the summer, but I haven’t had a chance to skipper my own boat until last Saturday; working up in Irvine has prevented me from taking part in the Tuesday evening Capri 22 races. At long last, however, the racing shifted from Tuesdays to Saturdays, and there I was, with Midshipman Krabby Kyle as my able crew (he having found that his usual skipper has his own work-schedule conflicts). And I was wearing my second Harvey Cedars Marina hat. Yeah, my dog was barkin’.
There was a fairly strong breeze more or less out of the south — didn’t have an anemometer handy, but it was enough to raise whitecaps on a deepwater bay and make it something of a challenge to handle a small boat with enough sail area to be easily overpowered.
And on that breezy day we had a “random leg” race, stretching somewhere between 10 to 15 nautical miles around channel buoys in San Diego bay. (From off the eastern half of Harbor Island across the bay to red 20; on to green 15, about halfway between the southern end of Shelter Island and the end of Point Loma; back again to FM 19, off the eastern tip of Harbor Island; down to red 26 on the other side of the San Diego–Coronado Bridge; back to FM19; and then finishing where we started. Just in case you happen to have a chart.)
The start unequivocally favored a port tack, but of the eight boats sailing, only three of us seemed to notice. Of the three, I got the best start (I’m delighted to say), with Jon Miyate above but behind me on the unfavored end of a lee-bow placement, and Steve McNalley alongside but below me. The other five effectively put themselves out of the race at the start. (Although Traci Miller, a Valhalla shipmate skippering one of the starboard-tack starters, did manage to finish in third when all was said and done.) There were a couple of tacks along the way, but at red 20 Kyle and I were in first place.
Then it got interesting. The route from red 20 to green 15 was, for more than a mile, close-hauled on port tack; then (owing to the shape of the bay; our course had been westerly but veered into the south and into the wind) a quick starboard tack and another quick port tack. Along that long port tack, Jon neither gained nor fell behind, but Steve steadily gained, and gained, and gained, and finally got about a boat length ahead and upwind of me. But he took his starboard tack the moment he could, and I split tacks with him, staying on port perhaps five to ten minutes longer. By the time I went over to starboard and he came back onto port, I crossed ten boat lengths ahead of him. We talked later, and neither of us knew why. Maybe I hit a favorable current. Maybe it was my hat.
But anyway, the suspense ends there. Once I rounded the second mark (ahead), almost all the rest of the way was off the wind — beam to broad reach. Perhaps because I pay better attention to the trim of my sails (ask Kyle how often I made him make adjustments; I’d say about every 10 seconds), or have more experience sailing off the wind, or both, I just pulled away from everyone. Really, for your entertainment if for no other reason I wish I could make this more exciting, but I led by a lot at every mark — 10 to 20 lengths ahead of Steve and more than are worth counting ahead of everyone else.
(Yikes! Am I tempting fate! Allow me to remind you that I am an undistinguished technical writer and my Aikido is laughable.)
So, there’s nothing wrong with my hat after all. Of course, that means I can no longer blame it for my loss in the Barnegat Light Regatta. So let me say this: All you Harbor Sailboats racers, if you thought I was tough, just be glad you didn’t have to sail against my sister!
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Port !
Imagine a very fast boat (Stars & Stripes) at least twice as large as this one that is coming at you on port tack while you are in a considerably smaller sailboat on a starboard tack. You have the right of way but does the other boat really see you? And it keeps getting closer and closer......
On Sunday, Dave took us (Emma, her friend Sarah, Kyle & I) out on Blue Canoe, a 32 foot Ericson. I was a beautiful day for sailing and we went out a few miles into the Pacific and seemed to own the ocean. Unfortunately, Sarah began feeling the effects of the ocean swells and so we returned to San Diego Bay for a more comfortable afternoon of sailing. Still, a beautiful day, a nice boat, plenty to eat and drink, who could ask for anything more? As we sailed around the bay we were accompanied by two America's Cup Yachts, Stars & Stripes and Abracadabra that take interested passengers for a thrilling ride up and down the bay. Even though we would be moving along at times at a pretty good clip, 6 1/2 to 7 knots, these big boys would go right past us as if we were anchored. Well, early in the afternoon we were on a starboard tack and heading toward the Coronado Bridge when Stars & Stripes began a port tack run in our direction. It is amazing how quickly that boat can move over water! And it is amazing how nervous you can be as it gets closer and closer and you start to wonder if they see you and are they going to go in front or behind or straight into you? Should we hold our course or go into evasive maneuvers? Or just jump ship and swim for it? I guess that they were just kind of playing chicken with us but we didn't chicken out! They ended up going behind us like a rocket.
Skipper Dave with nerves of steel, true and brave, steady on the wheel, the good sailing vessel Blue Canoe, starboard! or not, an able bodied crew, is that a yacht or a Guernsey Cow?, we crossed Stars & Stripes bow!!!
Monday, September 26, 2005
Fair Warnings
Saturday was a beautiful, warm early autumn day on old Cape Cod, with blue skies and a good strong wind as we waited around to start power washing my friend's house in Truro, where Cher just happened to be sitting in the garage, and a boat launching ramp into Cape Cod Bay just happened to be down the road about a 1/4 mile (if that). Erica stayed home with the napping twins, Rosemary and Gretchen went off in search of lunch, and I of course headed down to the water with my $10 in hand to pay the harbormaster. "What's that you got there? A kayak?" I paused, wondering how I should answer, as a kayak only costs $5 to launch.
I figured no sense irritating the old guy who would undoubtedly notice that my kayak had a sail, so I fessed up that it was in fact a sunfish. "A sunfish!! You wouldn't catch me out there on a sunfish today. No sirree. Them's winds are 30 miles per hour out there." Hmm I thought, I can handle it! After all, I am a 3-time winner of the Barnegat Light Regatta. "You sure you can handle it?" Yes. "You gonna unload that boat all by yourself?" Yes. OK now I am tiring of all the questioning but I offer "I won't be out long - I have other stuff to do today, I'll be back soon". Now the other old salt in the corner who hasn't said anything so far adds the stern warning: "IF you come back!"
I went out, had a lovely sail, and did come back to tell the tale.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
I lost my toy
ok so we decided that it really is ridiculous to have 3 vehicles and one of them had to go. :-(
Sunday, September 18, 2005
I've Got a New Toy
What do I like best about my new Prius hybrid car?
Maybe it's the keyless entry. You just walk up to the beastie and, providing you've got the LEG (that's "little electronic gizmo") in your pocket, the car just unlocks itself.
Nah... Maybe it's the performance. You tool along the freeway at 75 MPH or so, under cruise control of course, listening to the CD player, enjoying plenty of space and comfort — just like a real car!
But then, maybe it's that moment when you're driving along, minding your own business, and suddenly you can hear the gasoline engine shut off. There's a moment of panic, inspired by years of experience driving obsolete cars. But then the car just keeps going, and you remember it's got an electric engine too.
But no, the best thing is driving along, setting the LCD panel to display performance statistics, and reading "99.9 MPG." Yeah, that's pretty good......
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Cape Cod Expedition
Yesterday, Rosemary and I successfully navigated aboard Cher, world famous 14' yacht, from Pamet Harbor (Truro, Massachusetts) to Provincetown Harbor (and back!). It was only our second attempt, having turned back the previous day before reaching our goal, fearing that we would not make it back in time before dark and extreme low tide. This time however, fully stocked with provisions, cell phones, and cash, we made it to the beach in P-Town and were able to secure one frozen mocha freddo and one frozen chai freddo from the "Wired Puppy", check our email and head home. On our way home we encountered the tall ship Kalmar Nyckel.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Montclair: 1; Ramapo: 0
Last night, in a closely-fought game, the Montclair High varsity soccer team defeated perennially powerful Ramapo High varsity soccer team by a score of 1-0. GO BLUE!!!
Sadly, the Montclair freshman squad was defeated by its Ramapo counterpart. But starting (and full-game playing) centerback Graham Christie was singled out after the game by Montclair coach Stu Ball for excellence in his play.
The visitors cheering squad was sparsely attended, due to the traveling distance. But die-hard soccer fan Marge Christie has, once again, stepped out in front of the crowd. You've heard of the Soccer Mom? Well, the original soccer mom is now the Soccer Grandma!
Sadly, the Montclair freshman squad was defeated by its Ramapo counterpart. But starting (and full-game playing) centerback Graham Christie was singled out after the game by Montclair coach Stu Ball for excellence in his play.
The visitors cheering squad was sparsely attended, due to the traveling distance. But die-hard soccer fan Marge Christie has, once again, stepped out in front of the crowd. You've heard of the Soccer Mom? Well, the original soccer mom is now the Soccer Grandma!
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
The August Series
Sailboat racing is a humbling exercise. Sometimes you think that you know what you are doing and everything goes well. Other times you think that you know what you are doing and all goes wrong. Then again, you might think that you don't know anything and find out either that you are correct or quite suprisingly that you know more than you think that you know. There are probably more possibilities & philosophical viewpoints than these four mentioned but they pretty much cover my sailing experience in August.
At the Harbor Sailboats Club in August we had four successive Tuesday evenings of racing of three races each.
8/02
An example of 'think that I know...& all goes wrong.'
After finishing an unexciting 4th out of ten boats in the first race Kyle and I get a very good start in the second race. But more importantly, I was watching the light wind condition change so that the better air was coming from the left side while the right side of the course was dead. So, by starting on the left side our boat and the only other boat on the left side had a big advantage. Four minutes into the race we were moving ahead surely and were 30 to 40 boat lengths ahead of everyone and on what I thought was the layline to the upwind mark. We were looking back at everybody and laughing. So, we tacked.......and stopped. No wind. And worse than that everyone else had some wind now. In fact, the wind was slowly coming to us from the direction of the other boats. By the time the wind reached us everyone had pretty much caught up to us. We had a slight lead overall at the mark but the wind was so light that maintaing any speed going downwind was extremely difficult especially being surrounded by all these sailboats. I can remember plenty of times before when I rounded the upwind mark in 6th or 7th place and passed a bunch of boats going downwind. Well, this night almost everybody passed me. We finished 8th.
The next race was still very light air. We reached the top mark in 3rd but felt like we were dragging an anchor downwind and took another 8. We ended with a humiliating 20 points on the night. And I thought that I liked to sail in light air. With 20 points we are basically dead in the August series. I was so down, I told Kyle that I'm finished, can't do it anymore. "That's my last race." From now on I'm just going to sail for fun. Why ruin sailing by suffering the frustrations of racing. I quit.
8/09
Kyle talked me into racing again. Lets just race for fun. Whatever happens, happens. Lets not be over-competitive. Just enjoy the moment. After all it's better than being at work which is where I would be if I didn't leave early to go race. Lets just clear our minds, relax and sail. And so, we get a 1st, a 2nd and a 1st. And the 2nd was only by about a foot and a half. We sailed so fast and so well that I really don't remember much about it. Why would I ever think about quitting racing? It's fun! I think this was a "don't know anything but surpisingly you do" experience.
8/16
Tonight we have a genuine 'rock star' join our crew. For weeks Dave has been saying that he misses racing on Tuesday nights with the club and so finally he takes a day off and joins the party. In the first race we size up our competition and decide who we want to beat most then we gain a favorable position on him in the pre-start and off we go. Dave steers and Kyle & I crew. We achieve our goal and finish fourth, 3 boats ahead of our chosen competition and so we move up in the standings. In race #2, Kyle steers and does well. The wind is medium strength and it is a good thing that Dave & I have the weight to stabilize the boat. We finish 3rd, but our 'target' finishes first. He's good. Race #3, 3 legs, Kyle still steering, we beat our competition to the upwind mark (we are in second) but he passes us going downwind. On the beat to the finish we are slightly behind him and tack away. The next time we cross, we are ahead and we finish the race in second place and second overall for the night. Kyle steers beautifully and Dave's crew work is impeccable and his tactical calls are excellent. I think this was a "we know what we are doing and everything went well" experience. Have I mentioned that I really like racing? We celebrate in a Mexican restaurant with muchos Margaritas and an iced Tea for Kyle.
8/23
This is the last night of the series. We are tied for first in points with Matt and just one point ahead of Steve and five points ahead of Bob. First place in the series gets the big trophy and a name on the clubhouse wall. (Dave is there nine times!)
The wind is light and that's o.k. We sail nicely upwind (3 boats were over at the start and called back but we stayed clear) and reach the mark in second place just behind Bob. Matt is right behind us. Bob sails into some choppy water and we reach off left as does Matt. We reach back on starboard now and are slightly in first place with Denny running down mid-couse on port. We intercept Denny and declare our rights as a starboard boat but he refuses to get clear of us. He is basically fouling us but my real race is with Matt and so I jibe to cover him and we finish second to Denny with Bob third and Matt fourth. Steve is fifth. We are now two points ahead of Matt, four points ahead of Steve and six points ahead of Bob. We are feeling good! This is our night.
In the second race we get on top of Matt at the start and pretty much smother his sails but we are not sailing that well by focusing on him and so we tack away to get better speed. Except that the speed doesn't come. We try some adjustments but never really get going too well. We approach the layline on port in about fifth place with a starboard boat coming across us. Here I make my big mistake. I should have crossed behind the starboard boat but instead I tacked and I was under the layline with no place to go. By the time I was able to tack back all other boats passed me. I rounded the mark in last place and slow and never caught up with anyone. Hello 8th place and 8 points. Inconceivable! Steve finished first and Matt 4th. Uh oh.
Last race, three legs, we get a good clear start but still the boat is not moving that well. We tack and tack again to get something going but never get into our 'good groove' which is what really makes it happen for us. We are basically scratching and clawing our way upwind and get to the mark in second place behind Bob and just in front of Steve (which is always a good thing). The wind is very light now and we are all slow going downwind except that Matt is moving a little better where he is. We round the downwind mark in third, behind Matt and Bob (who bumps us after we gave him room, a foul which he ignores even after both Steve and I call it out) but ahead of Steve. And here begins the slowest leg of my life. What is going on? I can't steer (yes, I am steering now instaed of Kyle - what a mistake) at all. I'm not pinching, I'm not falling off...I really don't know what I'm doing. I'm choking actually. Nothing is going right. I really just can't move the boat. Where is my wind? Oh no, I'm having a "I don't think I know anything and I truly don't" experience. Everyone else is pointing better and going faster except one boat that actually manages to sail slower than I do. So we finish seventh for the race and the day. Yikes.
A small consolation.....we end up with 50 points, one better than Bob, and get the little 3rd place trophy. Steve gets second and Matt gets first. Matt was so happy that he did a little dance in the parking lot. I don't think anyone else saw it.
At the Harbor Sailboats Club in August we had four successive Tuesday evenings of racing of three races each.
8/02
An example of 'think that I know...& all goes wrong.'
After finishing an unexciting 4th out of ten boats in the first race Kyle and I get a very good start in the second race. But more importantly, I was watching the light wind condition change so that the better air was coming from the left side while the right side of the course was dead. So, by starting on the left side our boat and the only other boat on the left side had a big advantage. Four minutes into the race we were moving ahead surely and were 30 to 40 boat lengths ahead of everyone and on what I thought was the layline to the upwind mark. We were looking back at everybody and laughing. So, we tacked.......and stopped. No wind. And worse than that everyone else had some wind now. In fact, the wind was slowly coming to us from the direction of the other boats. By the time the wind reached us everyone had pretty much caught up to us. We had a slight lead overall at the mark but the wind was so light that maintaing any speed going downwind was extremely difficult especially being surrounded by all these sailboats. I can remember plenty of times before when I rounded the upwind mark in 6th or 7th place and passed a bunch of boats going downwind. Well, this night almost everybody passed me. We finished 8th.
The next race was still very light air. We reached the top mark in 3rd but felt like we were dragging an anchor downwind and took another 8. We ended with a humiliating 20 points on the night. And I thought that I liked to sail in light air. With 20 points we are basically dead in the August series. I was so down, I told Kyle that I'm finished, can't do it anymore. "That's my last race." From now on I'm just going to sail for fun. Why ruin sailing by suffering the frustrations of racing. I quit.
8/09
Kyle talked me into racing again. Lets just race for fun. Whatever happens, happens. Lets not be over-competitive. Just enjoy the moment. After all it's better than being at work which is where I would be if I didn't leave early to go race. Lets just clear our minds, relax and sail. And so, we get a 1st, a 2nd and a 1st. And the 2nd was only by about a foot and a half. We sailed so fast and so well that I really don't remember much about it. Why would I ever think about quitting racing? It's fun! I think this was a "don't know anything but surpisingly you do" experience.
8/16
Tonight we have a genuine 'rock star' join our crew. For weeks Dave has been saying that he misses racing on Tuesday nights with the club and so finally he takes a day off and joins the party. In the first race we size up our competition and decide who we want to beat most then we gain a favorable position on him in the pre-start and off we go. Dave steers and Kyle & I crew. We achieve our goal and finish fourth, 3 boats ahead of our chosen competition and so we move up in the standings. In race #2, Kyle steers and does well. The wind is medium strength and it is a good thing that Dave & I have the weight to stabilize the boat. We finish 3rd, but our 'target' finishes first. He's good. Race #3, 3 legs, Kyle still steering, we beat our competition to the upwind mark (we are in second) but he passes us going downwind. On the beat to the finish we are slightly behind him and tack away. The next time we cross, we are ahead and we finish the race in second place and second overall for the night. Kyle steers beautifully and Dave's crew work is impeccable and his tactical calls are excellent. I think this was a "we know what we are doing and everything went well" experience. Have I mentioned that I really like racing? We celebrate in a Mexican restaurant with muchos Margaritas and an iced Tea for Kyle.
8/23
This is the last night of the series. We are tied for first in points with Matt and just one point ahead of Steve and five points ahead of Bob. First place in the series gets the big trophy and a name on the clubhouse wall. (Dave is there nine times!)
The wind is light and that's o.k. We sail nicely upwind (3 boats were over at the start and called back but we stayed clear) and reach the mark in second place just behind Bob. Matt is right behind us. Bob sails into some choppy water and we reach off left as does Matt. We reach back on starboard now and are slightly in first place with Denny running down mid-couse on port. We intercept Denny and declare our rights as a starboard boat but he refuses to get clear of us. He is basically fouling us but my real race is with Matt and so I jibe to cover him and we finish second to Denny with Bob third and Matt fourth. Steve is fifth. We are now two points ahead of Matt, four points ahead of Steve and six points ahead of Bob. We are feeling good! This is our night.
In the second race we get on top of Matt at the start and pretty much smother his sails but we are not sailing that well by focusing on him and so we tack away to get better speed. Except that the speed doesn't come. We try some adjustments but never really get going too well. We approach the layline on port in about fifth place with a starboard boat coming across us. Here I make my big mistake. I should have crossed behind the starboard boat but instead I tacked and I was under the layline with no place to go. By the time I was able to tack back all other boats passed me. I rounded the mark in last place and slow and never caught up with anyone. Hello 8th place and 8 points. Inconceivable! Steve finished first and Matt 4th. Uh oh.
Last race, three legs, we get a good clear start but still the boat is not moving that well. We tack and tack again to get something going but never get into our 'good groove' which is what really makes it happen for us. We are basically scratching and clawing our way upwind and get to the mark in second place behind Bob and just in front of Steve (which is always a good thing). The wind is very light now and we are all slow going downwind except that Matt is moving a little better where he is. We round the downwind mark in third, behind Matt and Bob (who bumps us after we gave him room, a foul which he ignores even after both Steve and I call it out) but ahead of Steve. And here begins the slowest leg of my life. What is going on? I can't steer (yes, I am steering now instaed of Kyle - what a mistake) at all. I'm not pinching, I'm not falling off...I really don't know what I'm doing. I'm choking actually. Nothing is going right. I really just can't move the boat. Where is my wind? Oh no, I'm having a "I don't think I know anything and I truly don't" experience. Everyone else is pointing better and going faster except one boat that actually manages to sail slower than I do. So we finish seventh for the race and the day. Yikes.
A small consolation.....we end up with 50 points, one better than Bob, and get the little 3rd place trophy. Steve gets second and Matt gets first. Matt was so happy that he did a little dance in the parking lot. I don't think anyone else saw it.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
It has Arrived!
thanks dave! i owe ya 20 bucks!! plus postage!!! would you settle for 2 or 3 white's subs?
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
Sunday, July 24, 2005
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