The Stone is Swinging Today

Ranger and Velsheda Cross Paths at St Barths Bucket Regatta 2012

Shameful

Absolutely disgusting story of discrimination against the famous quadriplegic yachtsman, Geoff Holt. Details on his website at South West Trains: Disability Discrimination Shame.

"This is the chair I have used for 25 years. It is the chair I used to sail across the Atlantic. It is the chair I used to collect my MBE from the Queen at Windsor Castle. Yet some spiteful and anti-disabled bully working for South West Trains says I can not use it on public transport makes me sick to the pit of my stomach."

30 Reasons Why I Only Sailed 3 Races Today

It was perfect weather for sailing today in Newport. 10-15 knots out of the south. About 30 Lasers out racing. But I only completed the first three races and then called it a day. Here are 30 reasons why...

#1 I'm 63 years old, for Pete's sake.

#2 I didn't do my yoga this morning.

#3 I didn't have my yogurt this morning.

#4 I only do this for fun. My score for the day doesn't matter. I've had enough fun now.

#5 I didn't get out and practice this week so I'm not tuned up for racing.

#6 On the whole, I would rather be in Philadelphia.

#7  I only race to learn what skills I need to improve. I've learned enough skills I need to improve now.

#8 I haven't checked Facebook for over two hours.

#9 I'm really struggling these days with gusty, shifty breezes.

#10 I should really get out and practice this week in gusty, shifty breezes instead of trying to race any more.

#11 I didn't have any lunch.

#12 The tallest blade of grass is the first to be cut by the lawnmower.

#12.5 No, I have no idea either why that last excuse is relevant. Except I am fairly tall.

#13 The wind just picked up. People ahead of me in the fleet are starting to capsize and crash into each other.

#14 I don't want to capsize. The water looks wet.

#15 I don't want some idiot to crash into me.

#16 I haven't checked Twitter for three hours.

#17 I'm really slow downwind today. I have no idea why.

#18 I haven't been DFL yet. If I quit now, I'll never be DFL today.

#19 Some other old guy has already quit. I won't be the first old guy to quit.

#20 It looks like it might rain.

#21 I'm not sailing well today. If I keep on not sailing well, I will effectively be practicing how not to sail well.

#22 These sailing gloves are very stiff and tight. They are making my hands ache.

#23 I did a couple of hours gardening before I left home this morning. That makes almost fours hours of exercise altogether. That's enough for one day.

#24 Because soaring with the eagles requires so much more effort.

#25 There's a bone in my leg.

#26 I'm a wimp.

#27 I'm planning to run a half-marathon next weekend. I mustn't do anything too strenuous today. I need to taper.

#28 I'll be 64 this year, for Pete's sake.

#29 If I only sail three races I can write a blog post titled 30 Reasons Why I Only Sailed 3 Races Today.

#30 At some point, hanging in there just makes you look like an even bigger loser.

#31 I've already beaten everyone who didn't show up at all today.

OK. I know that's 31, not 30. So shoot me.

Basic Needs

Guy on day 86 of his full return South Pole Expedition 2011/2012.

He's quite hungry and about to pick up his last cache which he left on the way in.

As a part of his motivational plan he has on purpose not made notes on what goodies he has left behind in the cache and on this last one, he didn't expect very much...

Woo hoo! Cheez Doodles®!

Don't forget the ®.

Seahawk Burning

When I was first asked to review Seahawk Burning by Randall Peffer, I was somewhat skeptical about whether I would enjoy it. I have never been a fan of nautical historical novels with all that talk of topgallants and spirketting and spankers. Hey, I'm a Laser sailor. Why should I be interested in spirketting spankers, for Pete's sake?

I needn't have worried. Seahawk Burning is, at its core, a story about naval warfare during the American Civil War but it is (to my great relief) sparing in its treatment of reeves and roaches and rostrums and things of that ilk. It focuses much more on the personal feelings of the novel's principal characters and the political intrigues surrounding the war. Actually I do like political novels about real-life events, and so I found Seahawk Burning immensely entertaining.

Seahwak Burning is the final novel in a trilogy by Randal Peffer about the Confederate Captain Raphael Semmes. The action follows Semmes and his ship the CSS Alabama as he seizes and burns scores of Yankee merchant ships while dodging Federal Navy ships trying to catch him. I had always thought that the naval action in the Civil War was principally along the eastern seaboard of North America, but the Alabama was, in fact, waging her war of terror all the way across the South Atlantic, around the Cape of Good Hope and into the Indian Ocean and South China Sea.

Captain Raphael Semmes standing by CSS Alabama's 110-pounder rifled gun during her visit to Capetown in August 1863.

U.S. Naval Historical Center photograph, original photograph by an unknown photographer.

The novel follows three other narrative threads related to Semmes' campaign: the political scene in Washington as President Lincoln and his Secretary of the Navy, Gideon Welles, discuss how to put an end to the Alabama's destruction of the nation's shipping, while simultaneously struggling with various other political forces hampering their efforts; the activities of US Navy Captain John Winslow and his ship the USS Kearsarge as he prepares to trap and destroy the Alabama; and the travels of Semme's mistress, Maude Galway, as she seeks to evade capture by both Federal and Rebel agents.

Allan Pinkerton and Harriet Tubman play a part in the story and there is the occasional mention of a minor character somehow involved on the fringes of the plots against Lincoln - John Wilkes Booth. This gives the novel a strong sense of impending doom which mirrors the forebodings of Semmes and Winslow as the story leads to what the reader feels all along will be the inevitable final scene of an epic naval battle between the Alabama and the Kearsarge.

Edouard Manet. The Battle of the Kearsarge and the Alabama. 1864.

The John G. Johnson Art Collection, Philadelphia, PA, USA

The switching of the narrative between the four main threads of action gives the book a fast pace and I found it totally gripping. I couldn't wait to find out what was going to happen next to each of the principal characters and could hardly bear to put the book down. I also particularly enjoyed Peffer's accounts of some of the technical problems that naval captains of the day grappled with on sailing ships that also had the new-fangled coal-fired steam engines for extra speed.

I think this book may even have converted me to being a fan of historic naval fiction. About two thirds of the way through it I realized I was actually getting a kick out of all the talk of stunsails and royals and starboard whisker stays and the like, even if I still have no real idea what they are.

I give Seahawk Burning two thumbs up.

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Oh, and for my two readers who think that you can't have a sailing blog or a sailing story without some knitting... there is some knitting in Seahawk Burning. Really!

Top Two Tips for Laser Sailors

I have a question.

If you have been reading this blog for any time you will know that I am an aging, unfit, clumsy, uncoordinated, erratic, usually bottom half of the fleet, passionate Laser sailor. What two things do you think I should do this year to improve my racing performance?

It might be particular skills to work on. It might be an approach to training, or physical fitness, or mental fitness. It might be recommendations on how to spend most of my time. Anything you like. If you don't have a handle on what aspects of my sailing I need to improve, then have a browse through my posts about competing in Regattas in the last couple of years.

There is a right answer, sort of. Or at least one answer to the question from a very good coach who saw me sailing and racing over five days in January. The occasion was my trip to Cabarete in the Dominican Republic in Janaury for a four day clinic and one day regatta. A group of us, all Laser sailors who had been to Cabarete with me, all of them of similar ability to me, were sitting around in the airport at Puerto Plata awaiting our return flights to the US.

Our heads were spinning with all the things we had learned during the week at Cabarete. We were chatting about our experiences over a beer (or two) and comparing notes on what we thought were the most important learnings to take back home. We all seemed to have different ideas as to what would give the biggest payback in helping us work our way up the fleet.

Then we were joined by the young man who had been the assistant coach for the week. He was an American college sailor who had been working at Cabarete during his winter vacation. We had all been impressed by his insights and feedback during the week, not to mention the way he had jumped into a Laser for the final race of the regatta and whupped the whole fleet.

One of our number asked the coach, "So what is the ONE thing that we should work on if we want to improve?"

The coach didn't seem to have to think long before he gave the answer. Actually he gave us TWO things. One of them was an item that would probably have been on my list of top three priorities anyway. One was a bit of a surprise to all of us, I suspect.

So what do you think the coach's two top tips for Laser sailors (like us) were? Or what are your top two tips for us?

Answers in the comments please.

This post sponsored by Thrum Knitted Sailing Caps from Quality Caps.

The Knitting Sailor

It's always good to come across a new sailing blogger. Especially when it's someone with an exaggerated sense of their own incompetence who writes about their sailing exploits with a sense of humor.

My latest find is The Knitting Sailor which has to win the prize for the most original name for a sailing blog. As far as I can tell the blog is written by a lady who lives in the north-east of England and who writes about... well knitting and sailing.

You don't have to read the knitting posts... unless you are into knitting too. But her sailing posts are priceless. I think my favorite one so far (it's a relatively new blog) is IN WHICH I AM VERY NEARLY SWEPT AWAY in which our heroine attends a very serious-sounding Instructors Conference - "it may horrify you to find out I am actually an assistant instructor."

The highlight of the day was some sessions on the water which the knitting sailor approached with enthusiasm even though she says, "I have never sailed on the sea, believing it to be a big scary wobbly thing." (She is right. It is.)

It was blowing Force 5-6 and most of the very serious Instructor people chose not to go sailing, but our intrepid knitting sailor and a couple of others went out in Toppers. Needless to say things did not go well, leading to a capsize from which she could not recover. And then things got worse. Eventually she, with four other people, ended up on a patrol boat on which the motor would not start, as it was being swept out to sea.

I think her satellite picture says it all...

I am looking forward to reading more sailing adventures from The Knitting Sailor. Check her out.

Escape to Newport

I went racing with the Newport Frostbite Fleet on Sunday... and reminded myself of one of the main reasons why I have enjoyed Laser sailing so much over the last 30 years.

I have been very lazy (again) this winter about doing much frostbite racing. I signed up at the beginning of the season in November and took my boat down to Fort Adams. It's been sitting there all winter, but I think I've only raced a couple of times before last weekend.

It seems like I've become a total wimp about frostbite racing. Usually around about Thursday each week I determine that "this Sunday I will definitely go racing." I check the weather forecast on Friday and though it might look a bit too windy, a bit too light, a bit too cold, maybe some showers... I still tell myself that I'm really going to go racing on Sunday. I check the weather forecast again on Saturday and by now it looks seriously too windy, too light, too cold, too rainy... with maybe a Small Craft Advisory or thunderstorms or snow promised too. I tell myself (perhaps with a little less conviction now) that if racing is on I will definitely go.

On Sunday morning, I check my email and Facebook, and find that occasionally the fleet captains have announced that racing is cancelled on account of the 35 knot winds or 15 degree temperatures. But usually there is no relief on the Facebook or email... so then something happens in my brain and I suddenly decide that this Sunday would be an excellent day to take Tillerwoman out to lunch, or go for a long run, or visit my grandkids. So I don't go racing.

I don't know what's the matter with me. It's not so many years since I won the Ironman trophy at my old frostbite fleet in Connecticut for sailing more races than anybody else in the fleet. I must be getting old.

Anyway, last Sunday, I couldn't think of any excuse not to go racing. So I did.

It wasn't too cold or too windy.

I had fun.

I think we sailed six races and I did reasonably well by my standards in a couple of them. My starts weren't absolutely awful and I didn't hit any marks or other boats or capsize or get shouted at for breaking any rules or run aground or tie too many knots in my sheet with my feet. So that was all good.

In the first few races I was thinking about that post I wrote last week about Where to Look While Sailing Upwind and my head was jerking around all over the place looking at boats to the left, boats to the right, the windward mark, whether I was headed or lifted, the water and wind ahead, etc. etc. etc. It certainly felt different from my usual mode of staring at the telltales 96.5% of the time. At least I could see why all the other boats were getting in front of me.

In the last few races I was thinking, "I can always go in early if I get tired," and, "Maybe I will get through the whole afternoon without being DFL." I didn't and I did.

As I was driving home afterwards feeling all warm and cozy from the car's heater and feeling all smug and self-satisfied about actually having gone racing this Sunday, I suddenly realized that during the racing I hadn't thought once about the usual annoying stuff that's always buzzing around in my head. Thoughts about chores that need doing around the house and the garden. How much longer I can delay before starting work on my taxes. What to do about replacing my wife's car. What the hell am I going to write about on the blog this week?

Of course, when I was working for a living, the annoying reminders buzzing around my head about stuff that needed doing and the decisions that needed to be made were about somewhat more serious things. Stuff that if I didn't do, or didn't do well enough, then it would probably get me fired, or transferred to Poland, or at the very least shouted at in public by one of the various eccentric megalomaniacs who occupied the senior executive ranks of my employer's business.

And then I remembered one of the main reasons why I had stuck with this crazy game of Laser racing. For a few hours every weekend I could forget all that crap buzzing around in my head every other day of the week, and concentrate on the important stuff... like where the next shift is coming from. That ability to forget about work was probably essential to my mental health for many years.

Laser racing was - and still is - an escape from reality for me. And what's wrong with that, I'd like to know?

First Step

"The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." - Lao Tzu

Lao Tzu was a pretty wise old dude. Sometimes we can get so hung up on how far we want to go or set such ambitious goals for ourselves that we forget that what we need to do right now is take that first step.

If you have never run in your life before and you want to run a marathon, then go outside and jog for a few minutes and then walk a few more minutes. That's the first step. Later this week, jog a bit further.

If you have never sailed in your life before but you have a wild ambition to sail single-handed around the world, then you had better take a sailing lesson. That's the first step. Later this summer, you can sail to the other side of the bay.

If I want to qualify to be a Half Fanatic by racing in some ridiculous number of half-marathons in some insanely short period, I had better actually run that half-marathon in a couple of weeks time that I registered for in a (probably drunken) moment of enthusiasm way back in the winter. That would be a good first step.

If I am ever going to sail my Laser 100 days in a year, then I had better start sailing more in the colder months of the year, and going out on my own one day this week would be a good first step.

My one-year-old grandson Owen knows this. He is a wise little chap.

One of his favorite words for a while has been "steps." He stands at the bottom of the stairs and looks up them, and you can see that he is just imagining how one day soon he is going to surprise us all by climbing up the stairs  (or horrify us if he does it in a rare moment when no adult is watching him.) But, so far, I haven't seem him negotiate unaided any step that's higher than half an inch.

We took him to a playground last week. His older siblings went off to play on monkey bars and the biggest slides they could find. Owen looked at these metal steps. He put his foot on the first step.

He looked up to the top of the steps.

Then he pulled himself up and put both feet on the first step and gave us a big grin.

He took the first step. He's on his way to the top.

What "first step" are you going to to take on your "thousand mile journey"?