Oysters and Beer and Crabs by the Sea

Well, I didn't complete many of the 33 things on my to-do list of items to prepare for this weekend's regatta.

But I did complete #14 today. "Take Tillerwoman out to lunch to let her know how much I appreciate her letting me go sailing all weekend."

As I wrote in The Meaning of Wife, we men will never understand women. Their minds work differently from ours.

Several days this week I asked Tillerwoman if she would like to go out to lunch. She always had some reason why she didn't want to go.



But today I found the secret key. I didn't ask here if she would like to go out to lunch. I said, "Let's go and have some oysters." Worked like a charm.

So we went to the Boat House and had a dozen Powder Point oysters on the half shell. From Duxbury. Plump, salty-sweet with a remarkably clean finish. (It says on their website.) But they were good.

I've even sailed at Duxbury. I seem to remember the water was salty-sour and my race finishes were remarkably unclean. Oh well!



I've been reading on Mitch's blog and in other places how bad the blue crab harvest is in the Chesapeake, and how expensive soft shell crabs are becoming. So imagine my surprise when the waitress said there was a special... a soft shell crab sandwich! And very reasonably priced.

I asked her where the crabs came from. Maryland, she said. Delivered to the restaurant live, she said. And then she launched into an explanation of how the chef chops the eyes and gills out himself and would we like him to come to our table and explain how he does it in even more graphic detail...

Ummmm. No thanks.

Just bring the sandwich.

It was delicious.

As were the two pints of Smuttynose IPA.



I came home and turned my boat over. I think it's the first time I've looked at my bottom in 5 years. Not a pretty sight. I cleaned it and polished it. Good for another 5 years, I reckon.



OK. I'm done.

I'm ready for the regatta now.

Bring. It. On.

Dambusters!

70th anniversary this week.

Spot the Difference

Photo of "Kirby Torch" on the Torch website earlier today

What the same photo on the Torch website looks like now

Kirby Torch Sail

Here is one of the first pictures of the brand new Kirby Torch sailboat released today on the Kirby Torch website.

Here is a close-up of the sail on that "Torch".

And here is a picture of Robert Scheidt sailing a Laser in the 2000 Olympics.

Photo: Katrina Butler - Sail-World.com

Notice anything?

Does this mean Robert Scheidt is endorsing the Kirby Torch?

Or does it mean that we will all be able to buy Kirby Torches with replica Olympic sails like those used by our favorite Olympic Laser sailing heroes? Can I be Anna Tunnicliffe?

Torch

This is a Torch.

"The Torch is an ideal boat for the family. Children can learn to handle her quite easily."

There is a 1961 original Torch dinghy for sale on this forum.

Here's one that was for sale on eBay.

According to this forum thread, the The Torch was designed by Bert Keeble, a metalwork teacher at Maldon Grammar School in England, in the early 1960s. It was meant as a boat that could be built in schools and used to teach pupils to sail.

Here is another picture of the Torch...

The designer, Bert Keeble, died in 2008. Here is his obituary.

Thanks to Scuttlebutt for breaking some of this news a few weeks ago.

Carpe Diem

On Monday morning I posted 33 Ways to Prepare for a Laser Regatta (most of which was written on Sunday) and then asked myself, "Which of these 33 things am I going to do first today?"

It was almost like the Monday mornings when I used to work for a living. After a refreshing weekend sailing or spending time with the family or skiing, I would go into work on Monday and start to get my head around what needed doing that week. Usually it was a list at least as long as the 33 Ways post, and with the similar depressing realization there there was no way I could get them all done.

How to choose what to do first?

I think there used to be some guidance about the difference between "urgent" and "important", but I forget what it was.



In the end I decided to go sailing first.

I trailered my Laser over to Bristol and set sail in a shifty, gusty wind from the WSW coming off the Poppasquash shore. There are more boats on moorings in the harbor now than there were a few weeks ago. One of them was called Carpe Diem. So I made that the title of this post. Why else?

I had planned on sailing some short windward-leeward courses and then doing some tacking practice. And that's what I did, but what I was actually practicing was getting used to sailing in a crazy, unstable wind that was so different from the afternoon sea breezes I've trained in on most of my outings recently. Gusts splashing down on the water and creating huge shifts. Slam dunk headers. Unexpected lifts taking me above the layline. Hey, that's the kind of wind we race in as often as not, especially on the lakes. All good stuff.

And then after a shower and lunch I did a few of the less appealing chores on my "to do" list.



It struck me that going sailing first made a lot of sense. (If there's any wind in the morning.)

Sometimes by the time I've done all sorts of other stuff in the morning, I am too weary or not in the mood for sailing by the middle of the afternoon.  And then later I regret that I didn't go sailing.



I've always hated that hoary old quote, "When you look back on your life, you'll regret the things you didn't do more than the ones you did."

I think it's nonsense. There are so many things that you can't do in one lifetime that focusing in old age on what you didn't do is simply a recipe for misery.

I'm old now. I never climbed Everest. I never became an astronaut. I wasn't one of the Beatles. I didn't marry Angeline Jolie. But I don't "regret" not doing any of those things. I prefer to reminisce about all the wonderful experiences I have had in the last 65 years... not to mention what I still intend to do.

But as a guideline for what to do first each day I think it's not a bad guide. "Do first what you will most regret this evening if you didn't do it."

Especially if that thing is going sailing.

Youngest Water-skier in the World?

33 Ways to Prepare for a Laser Regatta

It's our Laser district championship in Wickford, Rhode Island this weekend. A two-day event and the first real regatta I've sailed since the Fat Boys Regatta in Bristol last October.

I'm not sure what to expect. Either my advanced age or my lack of fitness or my general wimpiness or all of the above were factors in my pathetic racing season last year. The Fat Boys was actually the first only regatta all year in which I completed all the races.

So I have five days left to get ready for Wickford. That should be enough right?

But I need to make some decisions, in the limited time I have available, on how best to prepare for the regatta. There are hotshots coming from as far south as Virginia, and last year's district champion, so I have to be at my best.

Here are 33 things I could do to prepare for the regatta. Which ones do you think are worth doing?

1. Do several long runs to build up my stamina.
2. Go for a long bike ride to build up my stamina.
3. Meditate on Rule 5.


4. Check all the bits of string on my boat and replace the ones that have frayed the most.
5. Refinish my foils.
6. Polish my bottom.


7. Get my car serviced so it doesn't break down on the way to the regatta.
8. Attend to all the rust on my trailer so it doesn't fall to pieces on the way to the regatta.
9. Find out where the regatta is and put it in my GPS so I don't get lost on the way to the regatta.


10. Put Ben Ainslie's book under my pillow.
11. Read a chapter or two of Ben Ainslie's book.
12. Hypnotize myself into believing I am Ben Ainslie.


13. Buy Tillerwoman some flowers to let her know how much I appreciate her letting me go sailing all weekend.
14. Take Tillerwoman out to lunch  to let her know how much I appreciate her letting me go sailing all weekend.
15. Tell Tillerwoman how much I appreciate her.


16. Mow the lawn because it needs doing.
17. Mulch the shrubs because it needs doing.
18. Write a blog post every day because... hmm... I have no idea why.


19. Buy more Powerade.
20. Buy more beer.
21. Buy more rum.


22. Visualize that race last winter when I led the Newport frostbite fleet round the first mark.
23. Visualize that race at the Fat Boys where I was almost second.
24. Visualize drinking rum after sailing.


25. Go sailing a couple of times this week.
26. Sit on my hiking bench a couple of times this week.
27. Do some yoga.









28. Buy one of those fancy Zhik wetsuits with hiking pads. They are so expensive they must make you go faster, right?
29. Buy a new wind indicator so I know which way the wind is blowing.
30. Buy more Advil.


31. Pre-register for the regatta so I actually have to show up.
32. Set some objectives for the regatta.
33. Decide to have fun at the regatta.

So what do you think?

If I could only do, say, seven to ten of the above, which ones do you think I should choose?

And what have I missed?

Something Every Laser Fleet Needs...

Warning

When I am an old man I shall sail a purple Laser

And wear a red do-rag which doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on single malt Scotch and Zhik wetsuits

And a new sail every three months, and say I've no money for gas.

I shall sit down on the dock and drink rum when I'm tired

And pump three times on every wave and shout "protest" a lot

And use the F-word in rants on all the sailing forums

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out sailing in 30 knots on my own

And steal bits from other sailors' boats

And learn to ooch.

You can wear Hawaiian shirts and grow more fat

And eat three large pizzas at a go

Or only oysters and beer for a week

And hoard duct tape and tools and Advil and things in boxes.

But now we must have USCG approved PFDs that keep us safe

And pay our entry fees and remember to thank the race committee

And set a good example for the children.

We must do our RC duty and read the sailing instructions.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to sail a purple Laser.

with apologies to Jenny Joseph