When? In Your Time

I've been playing this song over and over again in the car while I've been driving to and from sailing. At first the lyrics puzzled me. Then I realized... Bob Seger is singing to his son and teaching him some lessons about life.

So I dedicate this post to my grandson, Aidan.

Feel the wind
And set yourself the bolder course
Keep your heart
As open as a shrine
You'll sail the perfect line.

You'll be fine, in your time.

How Much?

How much should we pay to enter a sailing regatta?

It seems like this year I've been paying around $40 or so a day as regatta fees to enter Laser regattas around here. Sometimes it's hard to see what I'm getting for my money...

Yes, a race committee... I guess they need gas for their powerboats.

Maybe drinking water between races; maybe snacks before, after or between races. But not always. And sometimes I have to pay extra for food and drink.

The winners get trophies too; they have to be paid for too. I don't begrudge that even though they rarely end up on my shelf.

I've run regattas myself in the past and know the challenges of drawing up a regatta budget. You don't want to lose money. You don't want to overcharge and scare sailors away. And you have no idea how many folk will actually show up and pay their money on the day.

Still, 40 bucks seems a lot. Am I getting old? I don't want to turn into that old curmudgeon who got into a slanging match with his fleet captain over a $5 regatta fee.

Some organizers seem to run excellent regattas for much less. What do they do differently?

How much do you think you should pay to enter a sailing regatta?

Wow

On Saturday I went off to Lake Whippersnapper for the informal Laser practice racing that I also wrote about in Just Six Laser Dudes Racing Round a Sausage.

This week there were actually seven Laser dudes.

And new technology.

First couple of times I did this, one of the racers took it upon himself to blow whistles for the three-minute starting sequence. This was also the method used for starts at the world famous Goose Poop Beach Sailing Club when I sailed there. How anyone can do this and still get a decent start himself is beyond me.

But this week we had a virtual committee boat.

The dude that sends out the emails to encourage us all to go sailing Saturday afternoons must be a pretty clever dude. He had taken it upon himself to build one of those automatic starting machines, a bit like the Ollie Wallock Automated Sailboat Race Start Machine that is fairly well known in the dinghy racing world these days. Just press a button and it sounds all the start signals.

But the email dude had gone one better. He had mounted his system in one of those rigid plastic picnic coolers and was using that as the buoy for the starboard end of the start line. There was a button on top of the cooler and a kind of horn for the sound to come out. All he needed to do every race was sail up to the cooler, press the button, and we were in sequence.

Wow!

A virtual committee boat.

All it needs is some way to recognize boats OCS and race committees will be obsolete. Maybe a paintball fired down the line at time zero?

When

Last week of August...

The weather these last two weeks has been spectacular. The intense heat of the earlier summer has disappeared and we have been enjoying long balmy days with comfortably cool nights. Perfect weather for enjoying the outdoors. Perfect weather for sailing...

Last Friday I went Lasering in the Eastern Passage. Just cruising around between Aquidneck and Prudence Island, enjoying the views to north and south, admiring the yachts sailing by, soul sailing at its best, and letting my mind wander where it will go...

Last week of August. A back to school, end of summer feel. Easing back a bit after the frenetic "racing 2 or 3 days every weekend pace" of July and early August. Knowing that the coming months of September and October will offer some of the best sailing weather of the year. Much to look forward to.

And thinking... if I live to be 90 then I am currently at the end of August in my life span. Sounds about right. The intense heat and activity of June and July are over, thank god. No more sweating away in glass boxes. Now it's time to enjoy the good times, relish life, kick back, sail more, spend time with grandchildren. Much to look forward to.

Not time yet to think about frostbiting in December...

What month of your life are you in?

Whence

A few minutes ago the Democratic National Convention in Denver watched a film tribute to Senator Edward Kennedy, which included a number of shots of the senator sailing with his family on his schooner Mya.

Now this blog is getting numerous hits to my post on Mya, courtesy of the fact that it is #1 on the list if you Google "schooner Mya".

I'm dumbstruck. The connection between a major national event in Colorado, a TV audience, the oddities of a search engine algorithm, and the direction of readers to some obscure sailing blog written by an old Laser dude in Rhode Island just strikes me as seriously weird.

Why

Last week of August ...

29 years ago I was building sandcastles in Spain with my one-year-old son.

28 years ago I was camping in the rain in France with aforementioned son and a heavily pregnant Tillerwoman.

20 years ago I was helping to run an Optimist sailing camp for kids at Rutland Sailing Club attended by both of my sons.

8 years ago I was helping to teach Sunfish sailing to kids in New Jersey.

For way too many years I was in some glass box arguing about budgets and plans and cost allocations and engaging in other stressful office-based activities that seemed important at the time but seem utterly irrelevant now.

On Wednesday evening last week I went sailing on Upper Narragansett Bay in my Laser. The conditions were perfect. I just cruised around and remembered why I enjoyed sailing so much.

I also remembered...

• why I retired from working in glass boxes
  
  
• why I moved to Rhode Island.

So I could do this.

I Didn't Get the Memo

On Tuesday of last week the weather forecast was "iffy". Light winds and possible thunderstorms in the area. Should I go sailing or not? I watched the sky. I checked the weather forecast. I studied the radar maps hour by hour..

Eventually at about 3 o'clock I decided. What the hell, I'm going sailing. What's the worst that could happen? Oh, I guess I could be struck by lightning, but I'll stay reasonably close to the launch area, keep an eye on the sky, and head back in if it starts to look ominous.

When I arrived at Independence Park in Bristol things were looking good. There was a gentle westerly wind blowing, and in the sky to the west there was a bright blue patch among the surrounding clouds. Seemed like things were going to be clear for a couple of hours.

As I launched I could see what looked like a thunderstorm way to the south over Portsmouth and Middletown. I practiced sailing up and down the harbor, trying to remember all the light air skills that I had been taught at Kurt Taulbee's clinic in Florida. The area of clear sky came directly towards me, but then a huge long cloud like a man's arm pushed out of the blue with what looked like a comic book fist about to zap the zenith. Dramatic, but no thunder.

I half expected some of the Laserite crowd that were here two weeks before to come out and practice too. But at 5pm none of them had appeared. Maybe they were freaked by the weather forecast? Maybe someone sent round an email saying, "no sailing this week". Whatever. In an case, I didn't get the memo.

I kept on with my practice. Some A-cats came out from the yacht club for their regular Wednesday night races. Then around 5:30 pm another Laser did come out to join me. Never seen the guy before. Another ex-pat newcomer to the area it seemed. He was hoping to sail with the Tuesday night regulars but I guess he didn't get the memo either. We talked about where we had been sailing in the last year and did a few practice races in the light airs.

We sailed in before the wind totally died. There was no thunder. Nobody got struck by lightning. Just two Laser dudes racing round a sausage on a summer evening. Priceless.

Don't Be a Ramp Hog

One of my favorite places to launch when I'm Lasering on my own is Colt State Park in Bristol because it has two boat ramps with a dock between them. It's very easy for me to launch my boat and tie it up to the dock while putting my dolly ashore. And ditto in reverse when I return.

I could launch off one of the many beaches in the area but after launching there's always that awkward "let go of the boat, run up the beach with the dolly, estimate state of tide during the next few hours and make sure dolly will be above the water all the time, drop dolly, run back to boat, and hope that in the meantime it hasn't (a) drifted out of reach, (b) capsized, or (c) been smashed on to the beach by wind and/or waves thereby causing extensive scratching, scraping and dinging of my precious gelcoat necessitating extremely tedious and time-consuming repair, and ditto in reverse when I return" process.

Where was I? Where am I? Oh yes, the boat ramp. Beaches are fine if there are two (or more) Laserites going for a yot. One can hold the boats while the other deals with the dollies. On your own, a ramp and a convenient place to tie up the boat are perfect.

So last Sunday I went over to Colt planning a bit of a yot around the bay on a perfect afternoon for Lasering. Big mistake.

I had forgotten. In the middle of the week this is a relatively quiet spot. At the weekend on a sunny afternoon in August it's somewhat busier. Actually a lot busier. And worse than that, every yahoo in Rhode Island who has just bought a jetski, or a fishing boat, or a catamaran but has no idea on how to sail it, is there.

And nobody has taught these guys ramp etiquette. So let me make it simple. If you are using a boat ramp there are three cardinal rules...

• if someone is already using the ramp (even if he is only a Laser sailor) it's impossible for the two of you to occupy the same piece of real estate simultaneously
  
  
• minimize the time you have to use the ramp by preparing everything possible in advance
  
  
• wait your turn.

I guess it could have been worse. I only came close three times to making the TV news headlines with a story along the lines of "Ramp Rage Rampage By Loony Laserite" or "Brit Boater Arrested In Ramp Rage Riot".

The first time was when I was launching. I'm pretty quick. Probably occupy the ramp for less than a minute. But that didn't stop some dude in a motorboat from roaring in from the bay and attempting to tie up to the dock outside of me. The ramp is fairly narrow and there are rocks on the other side, so as he drifted perpendicular to the dock he was totally blocking my exit to the bay. And I was totally blocking his exit to the ramp. I don't know what he was thinking. His mate was shouting something about whether he wanted a "rope" from the "back end". His language may not have been very nautical but he had the right idea. If they pulled in the stern there was a chance that I might be able to sail round them. Anyway the "rope to the back end" didn't materialize and I watched as the propellers of the twin outboard drifted on to the aforementioned rocks.

I waited. I watched. I patiently stood there holding my Laser ready to sail away whenever they left me some room to do so.

There was a lot of grinding of metal on rock. There was a lot of shouting. Engines were raised. Voices were raised. Engines were gunned. Water was churned. Voices were raised some more.

I waited. I adopted my best British supercilious stare. I tried to communicate telepathically, "If you two gentlemen hadn't been in such a hurry I would have been out of here by now and you wouldn't have to be putting up with this silent supercilious stare."

Eventually the two dudes worked out that the best thing was for them to go out and come in for another shot. In the meantime I sailed skilfully out of the dock while trying to communicate telepathically, "I'm a real boater. You are ramp hogs. Have a nice day."

I went for a yot around the bay. Superb afternoon for sailing. Flat out hiking upwind. Riding the waves downwind. After a couple of hours I headed back to the ramp.

There was a catamaran tied up to the downwind side of the dock where I had left my dolly. There was a man and a woman and a dog on it. The jib was flapping in the wind. The mainsail wasn't up. The man seemed to be busy doing something at the mast. The woman and the dog were watching him.

I went for another bit of a yot. I practiced some tacks and some gybes and some mark roundings. After ten minutes or so I went back to the dock. The catamaran was still there. The man was still busy doing something. The woman and the dog were still watching him.

Hey ho. What the hell. I went for another bit of a yot. Had fun reaching on the waves. Blasted around doing some Laser style soul sailing. After another ten minutes or so I went back to the dock. It looked like the man had just about finished whatever he was doing. In any case they drifted off the dock with the jib flapping in the wind. As they sailed past me I saw that the man actually was still busy doing something with the mast and the woman and the dog looked scared. It wasn't entirely clear to me if they were actually sailing or just drifting off in the general direction of Barrington. Whatever. I communicated to them telepathically, "I'm a real boater. You are ramp hogs. Have a nice day." I think the dog may have been receiving.

There wasn't anybody on land or on the water waiting to use the ramp so I sailed in, jumped off my boat, and started taking out the daggerboard and lifting the rudder. Just then, a rusty trailer carrying a jetski started coming down the ramp towards me. I couldn't even see the vehicle to which the trailer was attached so sure as hell the driver couldn't see me. (Though you would think he could have seen the top of my mast?) So I hollered to make sure he was aware that he was about to run over a Loony Laserite Brit Boater about to have a serious case of Ramp Rage. He stopped halfway down the ramp. At least he hadn't crushed me beneath his rusty trailer. I tied up my boat and retrieved my dolly and put my boat on the dolly. The rusty trailer was still halfway down the ramp but I could just squeeze past him and luckily the wind direction was such that I didn't break too many windows on his SUV with the end of my boom.

While giving him one of those friendly guy how-ya-doing nods I also sent an urgent telepathic communication saying, "I'm a real boater. You are a ramp hog. Have a nice day." I don't think he was receiving. And he didn't even have a dog to act as translator.

So please please please don't be a ramp hog.

Scrap the Medal Race Fiasco Now

The genius who thought up the "medal race" concept for Olympic sailing should be fired. The whole idea is a dismal failure. Let's scrap the medal race fiasco now.

It was all supposed to make sailing easier to understand for the general public. Supposedly we dumb sailing TV viewers didn't understand how a sailor could do so well in a long series that he could skip the final race and still win the gold medal. The genius who thought up the medal race probably imagined that the winner of the medal race would win the gold medal. It would be an exciting final showdown to the Olympic regatta. It would turn sailing into a popular TV sport.

So the aforementioned genius came up with the idea of a medal race... compulsory race for top ten boats, double points, no discards. Brilliant.

Problem is that it hasn't worked. Just look at this week's medal races...

• In the men's 470, the Australian team had such a huge points lead going into the medal race that they could have finished last in the medal race and would still have won the gold. Thrilling.
  
  
• In the 49ers, the Danish team sailed the Croatian boat, started four minutes late, finished seventh, and still won the gold medal. Logical.
  
  
• And here's the real kicker. In the Lasers, the Swedish sailor ended the fleet racing in second place behind the Brit in first. But the Brit had such a large lead that, to win the gold, he just needed to ensure that he wasn't last and the Swede wasn't first in the medal race. So the Brit match-raced the Swede and they finished ninth and tenth in the medal race. The Brit got the gold. The Swede, arguably the second-best Laser sailor at the Olympics, finished sixth overall in the rankings, with no medal at all. I don't blame the Brit for what he did, but here's the real irony. If the Swede had had a point or two less in the regular fleet racing the Brit would have not need to have match-race him to win the gold, and the Swede may well have won the silver or bronze medal. So the medal race concept can actually incentivize a sailor to do worse in the earlier races in order to win a medal. Explain that to your average TV viewer.
  
  
• It was all supposed to be about making TV exciting for the Olympics, right? What TV? There was no TV coverage of sailing in the Olympics this year in the USA, the largest, most lucrative TV market in the world.

So let's scrap this medal race nonsense now. It's a crock.

Concentrate on the High Point

Warning: Scrolling down this post or clicking on the link contained herein may result in eye strain, involuntary interjections, and potential termination of employment. Not Safe For Work.

I am shocked...

Every Olympic Games we read about how unfair it is that some countries support their athletes financially much more generously than others. There's usually some whining about how the Brits win so many medals in Sailing because the sailors receive support from the National Lottery when anyone with eyes to see would realize that Brits are just genetically superior when it comes to sailing.

Anyway I am shocked...

According to The Sun (the authoritative source on such matters) the female Laser Radial sailor from Germany, Petra Niemann, raised money for her campaign by posing nude for the German edition of Playboy. This is a terrible example to young women sailors around the world and I sincerely hope that no other female sailors follow Petra's example. It just isn't cricket.



Petra sounds like an extremely smart young woman. The Sun quotes her as saying, "I work extra hard with my psychologist. He advised me to concentrate on the high point of the year above everything else."

That's the way to approach the Olympics... concentrate on the high point... let's see no more of these tacky nude photos.

I am shocked.