Today's links are both related to the story of Reid Stowe and his girlfriend Soanya Ahmad, who are attempting to spend 1000 days at sea in the 70-foot gaff-rigged schooner Anne, without any contact with supporting ports.
Their website and blog are at 1000 Days at Sea.
Personally, as someone totally lacking any experience whatsoever in ocean voyaging, I initially saw Reid and Soanya's endeavor as a worthy attempt on some kind of record (I guess they are trying to prove something) and the blog as a vaguely interesting account of the daily trials of life at sea.
But the armchair experts at Sailing Anarchy decided that Reid's voyage was a folly of the highest order and have been lambasting him for months now. And there is now another blog 1000 Days of Hell, dedicated to exposing the "truth" about Reid the man and his supposed lack of nautical skills, and to publishing clever parodies of the material on his website.
It's all highly entertaining if you like that kind of thing. But I'm still wondering whether the whole voyage itself and the supposed authentic website and voyage log are not some fiction dreamed up by a nerdy blogger sailor-wannabe posting from some basement bedroom in Boise, Idaho. How would you know?
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Friday, November 02, 2007
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Beerfort Scale
Traditionally the strength of the wind and the state of the sea are measured by the Beaufort Wind Scale. When a group of sub aqua divers from Dumfries and Galloway Sub Aqua Club arranged a weekend away, there was inevitably a storm and they had to shelter in the pub. As a service to all water sports enthusiasts in similar circumstances, they re-wrote the Beaufort Scale.
0 Stone Cold Sober: Able to stand unaided, everything in focus, smoke rises vertically, drinks only bought when cajoled, sensible conversation abounds.
1 Feeling Warm: Very slight deviation from course, but no stumbling, dive organised for next Sunday, voices kept low to exclude non favourites.
2 Slight Inebriation: Some incoherence, eyes have glassy appearance, occasional slur. Past dives discussed, some exaggeration, depths marginally increased, boat speed more or less accurate.
3 Gentle Glow: Barmaid becoming more attractive, some bantering, drink bought for stranger. Depths always exaggerated, times doubled, enjoyment factor of last expedition doubled. Boat speed increasing noticeably. Decompression times lengthening. Water becoming warmer/colder/darker/clearer.
4 Moderate Inebriation: Pronounced slurring, voices increase in volume, some bad jokes re-told, offers of drinks to entire group. Last near miss made to sound as if planned, all wrecks now 20 metres deeper and visibility greatly increased/decreased. Much talk of portholes, some skepticism.
5 Well On: Speech becomes incoherent, some foaming, barmaid appears drop dead gorgeous, more pints ordered (Chance of some spray) Speed of boat in knots over-estimated by factor of two. Some slight references to curry/kebab/chinky/pizza.
6 Half Newt: Tables move, pattern on carpet becomes fuzzy, jokes get worse, (Probably some spray). Boat now unbeatable, weather last time out worst/best in living memory, depths and times now increase by a factor of four. Renowned club member now takes two hours to kit up while buddies hang on shot line waiting for him. Some kit may be purchased at inflated prices.
7 Full Newt: Whole pub in motion, next dive planned - Death Rock. Deposits taken, and used for next round. Some mention of "curry and chinky" many bags of nuts and crisps purchased. Barmaid is Pamela Anderson (and she wants you!). Conger/Lobster is so large it moves the wreck when swimming, hence wreck is never in the same place twice. (Or sat-nav is useless due to US military screwing up the signal). Inconvenience may be felt when walking to the loo.
8 Semi smashed: Immediate trip to Scapa Flow organised, some glass breaking, insults are extensive. Beer is spread over adjoining tables, new round ordered, kitty is increased. Immediate trip to Titanic is on the cards. More talk of curry/kebabs. Tackle may be placed on the pool table. Locals warned about the dangers of decompression. Boat now capable of 60 knots even with plug lead shorting onto engine casing. Boat keys lost, progress generally impeded.
9 Near Smashed: Table dancing is commenced, some structural damage, some falling. Bones may break, injuries may go unnoticed, friends may refuse to acknowledge that assistance is required. Broken colleague is returned to chalet, dumped on bunk and covered with wet-suit for comfort. All return to pub, (chimney pots and slates removed).
10 Smashed: Seldom experienced before collapse, dives organised to Red Sea and Scapa Flow for the same week, equipment lent to club pratt, offers of marriage to barmaid/barman. Boat now quicker than "Bluebird", last dive - 60 metres, sitting on the coning tower for 45 minutes, three hours decompression required. Some moans from chalet, severe swelling may be evident, all cries are ignored. Some spray, much foam. Ornamental trees may be uprooted.
11 Nitroxed: 60 metre dive to some wreck not far away organised , more deposits taken, new round ordered, many full glasses may be seen, bodies falling everywhere, medical treatment required, no pain felt, more crisps and nuts ordered, cries for curry/chinky and popadoms get louder. Much whiskey of unpronounceable name ordered, smoke fills the room, everything blurred. Small and medium sized divers may become lost for a time. Visibility affected.
12 Out of Skull: Communications impossible, speech becomes lost in profanities, old grudges surface, past dives recalled in detail, all measurements quadrupled, boat now faster than Exocet, even with twelve divers and two tanks each. The air is filled with foam and spray, smoke is thick, ashtrays are full.
There may be a short lull -- Trips are cancelled, deposits demanded back, organiser is accused of fraud, diving sucks, all equipment for sale, golf clubs bought from fat bloke at bar. Wife arrives with car, followed by total amnesia and coma.
Summary The above is a guide, intended to show roughly what may be expected in a bar, near to the sea, on a dive expedition, or when a group of divers gather. Further from the sea, or near enclosed water time scales may be shorter and the exaggerations larger.
Please note: The scale above 8 is very rarely experienced, due to the gulf stream and lack of funds, however, when the phrase "the kitty covers everything" is heard, it can be assumed that force 12 will be reached and maintained for the duration of the expedition.
The Beerfort Scale
0 to 12 pints
0 to 12 pints
0 Stone Cold Sober: Able to stand unaided, everything in focus, smoke rises vertically, drinks only bought when cajoled, sensible conversation abounds.
1 Feeling Warm: Very slight deviation from course, but no stumbling, dive organised for next Sunday, voices kept low to exclude non favourites.
2 Slight Inebriation: Some incoherence, eyes have glassy appearance, occasional slur. Past dives discussed, some exaggeration, depths marginally increased, boat speed more or less accurate.
3 Gentle Glow: Barmaid becoming more attractive, some bantering, drink bought for stranger. Depths always exaggerated, times doubled, enjoyment factor of last expedition doubled. Boat speed increasing noticeably. Decompression times lengthening. Water becoming warmer/colder/darker/clearer.
4 Moderate Inebriation: Pronounced slurring, voices increase in volume, some bad jokes re-told, offers of drinks to entire group. Last near miss made to sound as if planned, all wrecks now 20 metres deeper and visibility greatly increased/decreased. Much talk of portholes, some skepticism.
5 Well On: Speech becomes incoherent, some foaming, barmaid appears drop dead gorgeous, more pints ordered (Chance of some spray) Speed of boat in knots over-estimated by factor of two. Some slight references to curry/kebab/chinky/pizza.
6 Half Newt: Tables move, pattern on carpet becomes fuzzy, jokes get worse, (Probably some spray). Boat now unbeatable, weather last time out worst/best in living memory, depths and times now increase by a factor of four. Renowned club member now takes two hours to kit up while buddies hang on shot line waiting for him. Some kit may be purchased at inflated prices.
7 Full Newt: Whole pub in motion, next dive planned - Death Rock. Deposits taken, and used for next round. Some mention of "curry and chinky" many bags of nuts and crisps purchased. Barmaid is Pamela Anderson (and she wants you!). Conger/Lobster is so large it moves the wreck when swimming, hence wreck is never in the same place twice. (Or sat-nav is useless due to US military screwing up the signal). Inconvenience may be felt when walking to the loo.
8 Semi smashed: Immediate trip to Scapa Flow organised, some glass breaking, insults are extensive. Beer is spread over adjoining tables, new round ordered, kitty is increased. Immediate trip to Titanic is on the cards. More talk of curry/kebabs. Tackle may be placed on the pool table. Locals warned about the dangers of decompression. Boat now capable of 60 knots even with plug lead shorting onto engine casing. Boat keys lost, progress generally impeded.
9 Near Smashed: Table dancing is commenced, some structural damage, some falling. Bones may break, injuries may go unnoticed, friends may refuse to acknowledge that assistance is required. Broken colleague is returned to chalet, dumped on bunk and covered with wet-suit for comfort. All return to pub, (chimney pots and slates removed).
10 Smashed: Seldom experienced before collapse, dives organised to Red Sea and Scapa Flow for the same week, equipment lent to club pratt, offers of marriage to barmaid/barman. Boat now quicker than "Bluebird", last dive - 60 metres, sitting on the coning tower for 45 minutes, three hours decompression required. Some moans from chalet, severe swelling may be evident, all cries are ignored. Some spray, much foam. Ornamental trees may be uprooted.
11 Nitroxed: 60 metre dive to some wreck not far away organised , more deposits taken, new round ordered, many full glasses may be seen, bodies falling everywhere, medical treatment required, no pain felt, more crisps and nuts ordered, cries for curry/chinky and popadoms get louder. Much whiskey of unpronounceable name ordered, smoke fills the room, everything blurred. Small and medium sized divers may become lost for a time. Visibility affected.
12 Out of Skull: Communications impossible, speech becomes lost in profanities, old grudges surface, past dives recalled in detail, all measurements quadrupled, boat now faster than Exocet, even with twelve divers and two tanks each. The air is filled with foam and spray, smoke is thick, ashtrays are full.
There may be a short lull -- Trips are cancelled, deposits demanded back, organiser is accused of fraud, diving sucks, all equipment for sale, golf clubs bought from fat bloke at bar. Wife arrives with car, followed by total amnesia and coma.
Summary The above is a guide, intended to show roughly what may be expected in a bar, near to the sea, on a dive expedition, or when a group of divers gather. Further from the sea, or near enclosed water time scales may be shorter and the exaggerations larger.
Please note: The scale above 8 is very rarely experienced, due to the gulf stream and lack of funds, however, when the phrase "the kitty covers everything" is heard, it can be assumed that force 12 will be reached and maintained for the duration of the expedition.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Stay Inside the Opposition
Oops.
I screwed up.
I said I would write a series of posts explaining the sometimes abstruse sailing writings of Dr Stuart Walker in language that the average sailor might understand. But my first post in this series, Big Fleets and Small Fleets, had a sentence that Litoralis (MIT graduate, former junior sailing champion and college sailor) didn't understand. If he doesn't get it, I guess it may have confused a few others too.
So what was the advice that was so hard to understand? I paraphrased it slightly in my post, so let me quote the original sentence from Chapter 5 of Dr Walker's book, Positioning: The Logic of Sailboat Racing (with the words that caused the confusion in bold). In big fleets, Walker says that rarely is one side of the course obviously advantaged, nor is the wind oscillating so you can play the shifts. So...
Wait. What do all those quotation marks mean? Surely the learned doctor is not guilty of the sin of unnecessary quotations. No. He must be referring back to advice in an earlier chapter. Isn't he?
Well, not exactly. Chapter 3 Strategic Principles sorta kinda addresses these issues but without exactly that language. Chapter 4 Racing Maxims is just a list of bullet points covering all kinds of topics and a couple of the points are close to that quoted paragraph, but not the same words. So what the hell is our friend quoting?
Ahah. Here it is. In Chapter 33. Whaaaat? Walker quotes Chapter 33 in Chapter 5 without telling you? Yup. Now do you understand why his books can be such a hard read?
So what the hell does it mean?
Well, it's all about risk management. Let me just emphasize again that this advice is for those situations when you can't be sure that one side of the course is advantaged, or that you have a reliably oscillating wind. Conditions that my friend Mike, from Mike and Charlie, seems to sail in about 90% of the time.
Walker says stay "inside" on the tack away from the rhumb line, and "ahead" on the way back. What he's saying essentially is that whichever tack you are on, you should aim to be closer to the center of the course, the "rhumb line," than your opposition.
And why is that? Think of it this way. You do know that when you're on the layline, however the wind shifts you're going to lose to other boats? (If not, I'll cover that next week.) So, on the layline if the wind shifts you have a 100% chance of losing out. On the other hand when you are in the center of the course there is a much greater chance that a shift will be to your advantage. Between these two extremes, the probability that a wind shift will favor you is on a spectrum: near the layline bad odds; near the center of the course better odds.
So if you don't know what the wind is going to do, by all means move out to the side of the course early, on the lifted shift and/or towards the side of the course that might be advantaged, but when you get a header dig back in towards the center of the course and try and stay closer to the rhumb line than your opponents. That's the way to play the odds.
Does that make sense?
Here endeth the Second Lesson in Walker's Words of Wisdom on Wednesdays.
I screwed up.
I said I would write a series of posts explaining the sometimes abstruse sailing writings of Dr Stuart Walker in language that the average sailor might understand. But my first post in this series, Big Fleets and Small Fleets, had a sentence that Litoralis (MIT graduate, former junior sailing champion and college sailor) didn't understand. If he doesn't get it, I guess it may have confused a few others too.
So what was the advice that was so hard to understand? I paraphrased it slightly in my post, so let me quote the original sentence from Chapter 5 of Dr Walker's book, Positioning: The Logic of Sailboat Racing (with the words that caused the confusion in bold). In big fleets, Walker says that rarely is one side of the course obviously advantaged, nor is the wind oscillating so you can play the shifts. So...
you must continuously play the fleet, "taking what you've got when you've got it." "keeping inside and to windward on the tack out from the rhumb line," "ahead and to leeward on the way back," "avoiding the laylines," "digging back in" whenever the opportunity arises.
Wait. What do all those quotation marks mean? Surely the learned doctor is not guilty of the sin of unnecessary quotations. No. He must be referring back to advice in an earlier chapter. Isn't he?
Well, not exactly. Chapter 3 Strategic Principles sorta kinda addresses these issues but without exactly that language. Chapter 4 Racing Maxims is just a list of bullet points covering all kinds of topics and a couple of the points are close to that quoted paragraph, but not the same words. So what the hell is our friend quoting?
Ahah. Here it is. In Chapter 33. Whaaaat? Walker quotes Chapter 33 in Chapter 5 without telling you? Yup. Now do you understand why his books can be such a hard read?
So what the hell does it mean?
Well, it's all about risk management. Let me just emphasize again that this advice is for those situations when you can't be sure that one side of the course is advantaged, or that you have a reliably oscillating wind. Conditions that my friend Mike, from Mike and Charlie, seems to sail in about 90% of the time.
Walker says stay "inside" on the tack away from the rhumb line, and "ahead" on the way back. What he's saying essentially is that whichever tack you are on, you should aim to be closer to the center of the course, the "rhumb line," than your opposition.
And why is that? Think of it this way. You do know that when you're on the layline, however the wind shifts you're going to lose to other boats? (If not, I'll cover that next week.) So, on the layline if the wind shifts you have a 100% chance of losing out. On the other hand when you are in the center of the course there is a much greater chance that a shift will be to your advantage. Between these two extremes, the probability that a wind shift will favor you is on a spectrum: near the layline bad odds; near the center of the course better odds.
So if you don't know what the wind is going to do, by all means move out to the side of the course early, on the lifted shift and/or towards the side of the course that might be advantaged, but when you get a header dig back in towards the center of the course and try and stay closer to the rhumb line than your opponents. That's the way to play the odds.
Does that make sense?
Here endeth the Second Lesson in Walker's Words of Wisdom on Wednesdays.
Comic
It would be comical if it weren't... well... Comic.
You may or may not have been following the legal battle currently being fought over the next America's Cup. Rule 69 Blog is one of the best sources, if you're really interested.
One of the crucial points in the argument is whether CNEV, the club accepted as Challenger of Record by Alinghi, is a real yacht club at all or just a sham front invented for the purpose of making a challenge for the Cup. And one of the issues in deciding whether CNEV qualifies as a yacht club under the terms of the Deed of Gift is whether they run an annual regatta on an arm of the sea as required by the Deed.
I'm sure Carol Anne, the sailing bloggers' English language expert, would have something to say on the matter. Especially as she corrected me last year when I tried to claim that the first running of our club's Sock Burning Ceremony qualified as a "first annual" occasion. Carol Anne pointed out that "something can't be annual until it has happened a second time a year later." Yet CNEV is trying to claim that a regatta yet to be run, one that will be held in November this year, is the necessary "annual" regatta.
Scuttlebutt has news on the issue today with some legalistic arguments based on how the rules of the Royal Spanish Yachting Federation apply to the recently published Notice of Race for this future "annual" regatta.
But look at the Notice of Race. Do you see what I see? Come on guys. You can't be serious. The NOR for this regatta whose validity may determine the outcome of the current lawsuits about the America's Cup, and that will in turn influence the timing, format, competitors, boats and much else about the next America's Cup regatta... the NOR is written in that joke of a typeface, Comic Sans!
Nobody in their right mind uses Comic Sans for a serious document. Even the creator of this jokeface, Vincent Connare, will tell you that it was never meant to be a real typeface, just something you used in applications for children or in comic book style talk bubbles. There's even a website dedicated to the battle to ban comic sans.
So for me the question of whether CNEV is a real yacht club is over. They shot themselves in the foot. It would be comical if it weren't Comic.
You may or may not have been following the legal battle currently being fought over the next America's Cup. Rule 69 Blog is one of the best sources, if you're really interested.
One of the crucial points in the argument is whether CNEV, the club accepted as Challenger of Record by Alinghi, is a real yacht club at all or just a sham front invented for the purpose of making a challenge for the Cup. And one of the issues in deciding whether CNEV qualifies as a yacht club under the terms of the Deed of Gift is whether they run an annual regatta on an arm of the sea as required by the Deed.
I'm sure Carol Anne, the sailing bloggers' English language expert, would have something to say on the matter. Especially as she corrected me last year when I tried to claim that the first running of our club's Sock Burning Ceremony qualified as a "first annual" occasion. Carol Anne pointed out that "something can't be annual until it has happened a second time a year later." Yet CNEV is trying to claim that a regatta yet to be run, one that will be held in November this year, is the necessary "annual" regatta.
Scuttlebutt has news on the issue today with some legalistic arguments based on how the rules of the Royal Spanish Yachting Federation apply to the recently published Notice of Race for this future "annual" regatta.
But look at the Notice of Race. Do you see what I see? Come on guys. You can't be serious. The NOR for this regatta whose validity may determine the outcome of the current lawsuits about the America's Cup, and that will in turn influence the timing, format, competitors, boats and much else about the next America's Cup regatta... the NOR is written in that joke of a typeface, Comic Sans!
Nobody in their right mind uses Comic Sans for a serious document. Even the creator of this jokeface, Vincent Connare, will tell you that it was never meant to be a real typeface, just something you used in applications for children or in comic book style talk bubbles. There's even a website dedicated to the battle to ban comic sans.
So for me the question of whether CNEV is a real yacht club is over. They shot themselves in the foot. It would be comical if it weren't Comic.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Mike and Charlie
Charlie Champion has checked the weather forecast with four different sources on the Internet. He has been down to the local fishing dock and picked the brains of the fishermen about tides and currents and weather and winds. He has been out on the course with a training partner (and maybe a coach in a Mommy Boat) for the last three days. He has spotted when and where the wind shifts and has exhaustively tested both sides of the beat.
Mike Midfleet went out for a blast round the bay in his Laser on the two days before the regatta. He had some fun in the waves. He had a three hour alcoholic lunch on a cool restaurant in the marina one day and went for a romantic stroll on the beach with his wife the other day.
Charlie Champion is confident in his boat handling and boat speed. He knows he can hold his place on the start line with the best in the world. He knows he can get his bow out in front and can accelerate off the start line faster than any of the competition. He knows he can hold his lane and sail in clear air up the beat. He knows that his superior boat speed will give him the freedom to tack when he reaches the first shift.
Based on the practice race, Mike Midfleet thinks he may be faster than about the half the boats in the fleet. He is not confident in his abilities to mix it up with the best in the world on the start line.
Charlie Champion knows the left side of the course is favored. He sets up for the start close to the pin end of the line. He has a good transit of the mast of the pin boat against a house on the shoreline. He knows exactly where the start line is and that he can hit the line with speed when the gun goes. He protects a hole to leeward by bearing off, pushing his boom out, and glaring fiercely at anyone who seems likely to enter his hole. He sheets in and accelerates a few seconds before the gun. He knows he will be in the first five at the windward mark.
Mike Midfleet has no idea which side of the course is favored but he does notice that most of the fleet heads left in every beat. He has no idea where the start line is; there are so many boats at the pin end that he can't see the pin boat and its flag. Mike allows other boats to come into leeward of him and steal his gap. When the gun goes he is gasping for air.
I think you can guess whether I was more like Mike or Charlie at the Masters Worlds. My strategy, to the extent that I had one at all, was to find a place on the start line that wasn't too crowded, preferably near the right end of the line so that if I did get a bad start at least I could tack out to clear air on the right without taking too many transoms.
It didn't work out too badly. One way or another I usually managed to find a good lane with clear air not too long after the start and arrive at the first mark in the top half of the fleet.
Mike Midfleet went out for a blast round the bay in his Laser on the two days before the regatta. He had some fun in the waves. He had a three hour alcoholic lunch on a cool restaurant in the marina one day and went for a romantic stroll on the beach with his wife the other day.
Charlie Champion is confident in his boat handling and boat speed. He knows he can hold his place on the start line with the best in the world. He knows he can get his bow out in front and can accelerate off the start line faster than any of the competition. He knows he can hold his lane and sail in clear air up the beat. He knows that his superior boat speed will give him the freedom to tack when he reaches the first shift.
Based on the practice race, Mike Midfleet thinks he may be faster than about the half the boats in the fleet. He is not confident in his abilities to mix it up with the best in the world on the start line.
Charlie Champion knows the left side of the course is favored. He sets up for the start close to the pin end of the line. He has a good transit of the mast of the pin boat against a house on the shoreline. He knows exactly where the start line is and that he can hit the line with speed when the gun goes. He protects a hole to leeward by bearing off, pushing his boom out, and glaring fiercely at anyone who seems likely to enter his hole. He sheets in and accelerates a few seconds before the gun. He knows he will be in the first five at the windward mark.
Mike Midfleet has no idea which side of the course is favored but he does notice that most of the fleet heads left in every beat. He has no idea where the start line is; there are so many boats at the pin end that he can't see the pin boat and its flag. Mike allows other boats to come into leeward of him and steal his gap. When the gun goes he is gasping for air.
I think you can guess whether I was more like Mike or Charlie at the Masters Worlds. My strategy, to the extent that I had one at all, was to find a place on the start line that wasn't too crowded, preferably near the right end of the line so that if I did get a bad start at least I could tack out to clear air on the right without taking too many transoms.
It didn't work out too badly. One way or another I usually managed to find a good lane with clear air not too long after the start and arrive at the first mark in the top half of the fleet.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
OK. Time to get serious in analyzing what went well, and what didn't at the Masters Worlds in Spain... and what I need to do about it. It's all been buzzing around in my head the last three weeks and I think I've got it straight now.
So I plan a series of posts over the next week or so talking about how I think I did in various aspects of the racing, and then speculating on what I can do to improve in each area. At the moment I think the topics will be...
I hope you will join in and tell me what you think of my various errors, weaknesses and screw-ups, and more importantly how to correct them.
So I plan a series of posts over the next week or so talking about how I think I did in various aspects of the racing, and then speculating on what I can do to improve in each area. At the moment I think the topics will be...
- Starting and Strategy -- not always spoke of in the same breath but they are related.
- Boat Speed
- Mark Roundings
- One Particular Weakness
- Finishes
- Fitness
I hope you will join in and tell me what you think of my various errors, weaknesses and screw-ups, and more importantly how to correct them.
Lura pensionärshemmet, dö i din Laser
You may wonder where that tongue-in-cheek piece of advice to older sailors, "Cheat the nursing home, die on your Laser" comes from...
As well as posting it in the title bar of this blog, I also have it as a bumper sticker on my car and occasionally have to explain it to curious gas pump attendants. The bumper sticker was created and mailed out many years ago to Laser class members of a certain age by Fred Schroth who was at that time Executive Secretary of the North American Laser Class. Fred was an enthusiastic and tireless promoter of the Laser class who was always dreaming up new ideas to grow the class and encourage more people to join the game of Laser sailing.
Actually Fred (now ex-officio) still is one of the best cheerleaders for the Laser game. He runs a famous Easter Regatta and you can find him posting as gouvernail on Sailing Anarchy and The Laser Forum.
But I only discovered last week that Fred didn't actually dream up the nursing home slogan himself. That honor goes to Nils Andersson who contacted me this week via email about an item he read in this blog, and who told me about the origin of the slogan.
Nils was from Sweden and sailed in the 1983 Laser Masters Worlds in the USA. On his return to Sweden he wrote an article about the Worlds for the Swedish Laser Magazine (no blogs in those days). His article ended with the slogan "Lura pensionärshemmet, dö i din Laser" which, you guessed it, is Swedish for, "Cheat the nursing home, die on your Laser." Later he posted the article in English which is how the phrase entered the English-speaking Laser world.
Nils traveled to the US again to sail in the Florida Masters and eventually moved here. He turns 70 in May and is still sailing his Laser around the San Diego area.
As well as posting it in the title bar of this blog, I also have it as a bumper sticker on my car and occasionally have to explain it to curious gas pump attendants. The bumper sticker was created and mailed out many years ago to Laser class members of a certain age by Fred Schroth who was at that time Executive Secretary of the North American Laser Class. Fred was an enthusiastic and tireless promoter of the Laser class who was always dreaming up new ideas to grow the class and encourage more people to join the game of Laser sailing.
Actually Fred (now ex-officio) still is one of the best cheerleaders for the Laser game. He runs a famous Easter Regatta and you can find him posting as gouvernail on Sailing Anarchy and The Laser Forum.
But I only discovered last week that Fred didn't actually dream up the nursing home slogan himself. That honor goes to Nils Andersson who contacted me this week via email about an item he read in this blog, and who told me about the origin of the slogan.
Nils was from Sweden and sailed in the 1983 Laser Masters Worlds in the USA. On his return to Sweden he wrote an article about the Worlds for the Swedish Laser Magazine (no blogs in those days). His article ended with the slogan "Lura pensionärshemmet, dö i din Laser" which, you guessed it, is Swedish for, "Cheat the nursing home, die on your Laser." Later he posted the article in English which is how the phrase entered the English-speaking Laser world.
Nils traveled to the US again to sail in the Florida Masters and eventually moved here. He turns 70 in May and is still sailing his Laser around the San Diego area.
Lura pensionärshemmet, dö i din Laser.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Saturday Speedlinks for Carol Anne
It never ceases to amaze me what subjects people will choose for their blogs. One of my favorite sailing bloggers is Carol Anne from Five O'Clock Somewhere. She is an English teacher by profession and occasionally posts informative lessons for us on such topics as confusing verbs or parts of speech.
But can you imagine writing a blog dedicated to nothing else but reporting on examples you see of one particular common error in grammar, spelling or punctuation?
There are several such blogs.
Abuse of the word "literally"
Apostrophe abuse
Incorrect use of lower case L
Incorrectly dotted "i"s
Hmmm, are those quotation marks necessary?
"Unnecessary" quotation marks
I guess she would tell me.
OK. Now someone is bound to point out some glaring error that I have made in writing this post.
But can you imagine writing a blog dedicated to nothing else but reporting on examples you see of one particular common error in grammar, spelling or punctuation?
There are several such blogs.
Abuse of the word "literally"
Apostrophe abuse
Incorrect use of lower case L
Incorrectly dotted "i"s
Hmmm, are those quotation marks necessary?
"Unnecessary" quotation marks
I guess she would tell me.
OK. Now someone is bound to point out some glaring error that I have made in writing this post.
Saturday Speedlinks to Sailboat Shots
I'll leave it to others to post shots of action in the Rolex Middle Sea Race or the US Olympic Trials. This week's Saturday Speedlinks are to photos of some more esoteric craft...
First of all, thanks to Magnus Wheatley at Rule 69 Blog we have The Lymington Cow.
And here's another boat you're not going to see at your local yacht club any time soon, a fleet of Flying Takos with custom spinnakers courtesy of Suzanne Zeluco at SZ Designs.
And last but not least...
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know that's the worst limerick ever. What did you think I was going to rhyme with Nantucket?
First of all, thanks to Magnus Wheatley at Rule 69 Blog we have The Lymington Cow.
And here's another boat you're not going to see at your local yacht club any time soon, a fleet of Flying Takos with custom spinnakers courtesy of Suzanne Zeluco at SZ Designs.
And last but not least...
Eli Boat and his buddies went to Nantucket
To race in a regatta in a little boat and try their luck. It
Is called a Cape Cod Frosty
And though our friend lost, he
Posted this pic. Geeze, that boat's no bigger than a bucket.
To race in a regatta in a little boat and try their luck. It
Is called a Cape Cod Frosty
And though our friend lost, he
Posted this pic. Geeze, that boat's no bigger than a bucket.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know that's the worst limerick ever. What did you think I was going to rhyme with Nantucket?
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