Socks

Tillerman to Commodore and YC Committee
I have discovered that some yacht clubs - especially those in the Annapolis area - hold a ritual "burning of the socks" to welcome the arrival of spring. For example see here or here. This ceremony is to signify that as from this date official nautical dress is boat shoes WITHOUT socks. How about a "burning of the socks" ceremony at our club meeting this Sunday? We have, of course, missed the official vernal equinox but we could always argue that spring arrives later in New Jersey than it does on the Chesapeake.

Commodore to YC Committee
Super idea!!! Never heard of this tradition, but, as some of you might know, I abhor SOCKS and am ready to burn mine. I have a call in to Fred at the inn to arrange for the Burning of the Socks this Sunday at 1pm on the patio.

Sunfish Fleet Captain to YC Committee
I LOVE it! Publicity Director, could we get a story in the local paper? They love stories like this.

Albacore Fleet Captain to YC Committee
Could you imagine if there was a mishap here and we had a fire? The local newspaper front page would read something like "YC gets hot foot members hot to trot burn down club building".

Past Commodore to YC Committee
Sounds like fun, but what are the environmental issues? I mean we're burning socks! Anybody heard of the EPA? And what is to be done with the grill after the rites are completed?

Newsletter Editor to YC Committee
If we could pull this off at this Sunday's meeting, the entire front page of the newsletter is available.

Flying Scot Fleet Captain to YC Committee
Do white socks burn better than colored socks? Is there a particular brand that burns better than the others?

Ladies Fleet Captain to YC Committee
Is burning of pantyhose consistent with the tradition?

Commodore to YC Committee
OK guys, we're on for Sunday at 1pm, before our meeting at the inn. Owner Fred said he'd bring some socks and would appreciate some publicity too.
Who will bring a grill and a little charcoal or wood and get it going?
EVERYONE BRING SOCKS!
Tillerman, would you lead the brief ceremonies?
Socks are for the birds.

Tillerman to YC Committee
I will lead the ceremony if you wish.
Does anybody know any appropriate rituals, poems or prayers to accompany sock-burning?

First Annual Burning of the Socks Day

On Monday I saw the post about sock burning on About Sailing and on Tuesday I emailed the commodore of our sailing club to suggest that we adopt the same tradition. So, on Sunday we held our club's First Annual Burning of the Socks Day at our members' March meeting.

In line with the principle that no good suggestion should go unpunished, I was appointed to read a proclamation and propose a toast. After ringing a bell and intoning, "Oyez, Oyez Oyez!" in best English Town Crier style I read the proclamation from the commodore that

in order to celebrate the arrival of spring, he does hereby proclaim March 26th 2006 as First Annual Burning of the Socks Day.

I went on to read his decree that

from this day forth until the end of the sailing season, the official dress for all members of the sailing club while engaged in the activities of the club, will be white shirt, khaki pants or shorts, and boat shoes WITHOUT SOCKS.

Then I loudly declaimed his call for

all members to celebrate this auspicious day by attending a Burning of the Socks Ceremony at which appropriate, respectful and solemn ceremonies will be held to celebrate the arrival of spring which will require the removal and casting off of socks, and the incendiary destruction of said socks.

I then proposed a toast to the commodore, we burned our socks and we went back inside to proceed with the meeting. As the smell from the sock fire wafted into the meeting room, the first order of business was to pass a motion mandating that no synthetic fiber socks would be allowed next year -- cotton only. Thus is a new tradition established.

I wonder if the first American Independence Day was as awe-inspiring as this?

Compression Socks

I'm a bit slow in noticing new trends.

Probably it's been going on for years but I noticed for the first time at the Newport 10 Miler running race today that a fair number of the runners were wearing knee high socks.

I've seen ladies wearing long socks to run before but I always assumed that they were some kind of fashion statement because they were usually pink or covered in polka dots or little flowers or hearts.

But these socks today were worn by men and women, and they looked "technical" in the way that products look "technical" when they are supposed to do something "technical" that will help you in your sport and the designer wants to make sure that you and everyone else sees how "technical" their product is.

I think they are called compression socks.

Apparently they are supposed to do something to make you run faster or hurt less when you are running or hurt less after you have been running.

There's an article about compression socks on the Science of Running blog. It's about 2,500 words long so let me summarize it for you...

• they might help blood flow
• they might stop your leg vibrating (seriously!)
• they might improve performance
• they might improve recovery
• various experiments have been conducted and results are mixed
• the author tried them out and got the best results by wearing them on the day before the race (go figure!)

I noticed that one lady running near me for most of the race was wearing a fetching pair of lime green calf sleeves. (Hey, what else am I going to look at for 10 miles?)  I guess these are supposed to work in the same way as compression socks.

Why hasn't this technological marvel been adopted in dinghy sailing yet?

You could wear those lime green sleeves on your arms as well as your legs.

Or does a tight wetsuit or tight rashguard have a similar effect?

Further research is indicated.

Sock Fetish

Wed Apr 23

I love my socks.

Forget all the conventional advice that you read about how to stay warm when outdoors in cold weather. All that garbage about how you can lose 75% of your body heat through your head. It's a myth. If you don't believe me check out this post on the Wilderness Medicine Newsletter.

In any case, when sailing a Laser in cold water which extremities are likely to start wet and stay wet? With a bit of luck you won't be dunking your head in the icy waters... though it could happen. And your hands may or may not get wet but at least they are out of the water most of the time. But your feet are going to be immersed when you launch from a beach or ramp and are likely to stay wet throughout your sail.

That's why I love my socks.

Last Wednesday I went for a sail on the lake near my son's house in Massachusetts. For my recent solo sails on Narragansett Bay I wore my drysuit which has latex booties so my feet stay totally dry. I love the socks I wear with my drysuit too but that's for another post. Or maybe I should start a parallel blog about the socks I wear each day? That would surely win any competition for Most Pointless Blog in the World. But then it might attract all sorts of weirdos with a sock fetish...

Hmmm, I was going to post a link to a sock fetish site here but you really don't want to go there. Or maybe you do. Use the Google, weirdo.

Where was I? Where am I? Oh yes, socks.

For my lake sail last Wednesday I wore my wetsuit with neoprene boots and inside the boots my NRS Hydroskin G2 Socks.




There they are. Or rather, there is one of them. Or one exactly like mine.

Isn't it a beauty? It's a wonder of advanced sock technology with (according to NRS) a 0.5-mm neoprene core that insulates and protects, 4-way-stretch PowerSpan™ outer layer for enhanced mobility and greater durability, ThermalPlush™ inner lining for increased insulation that also repels moisture and dries quickly, titanium laminate adhesive that aids body heat retention without adding bulk, and DWR coating that forces water to bead and roll off the material reducing evaporative cooling.

You can tell from the description alone that some serious sock science brainpower has been at work here. All I can tell you was that last Wednesday my feet were toasty.

I love my socks.

PS. If any sock manufacturer would like to sponsor my Olympic campaign please get in touch.

Little Cotton Socks

O Docker, bless his little cotton socks, called it right six weeks ago. In The Thrill of Victory he drew our attention to the terms negotiated by the City of San Francisco with the current holders of the America's Cup for the "privilege" of hosting the next AC in their beautiful city by the bay. The perceptive and persistent Mr. Docker searched through all the legalese in the terms and discovered that the city by the bay was planning to give away 66 and 75 year leases on 25 acres of prime waterfront property for aforementioned "privilege". And the lucky fellow who would be the beneficiary of this windfall would, of course, be a certain Lawrence Joseph Ellison. What a shocker!

Now another clever West Coast dude called Harvey Rose, bless his little cotton socks, has been crunching some numbers and worked out that the "privilege" of hosting AC 34 will cost San Francisco as much as $128 million. Harvey is not as prominent in the blogosphere as Mr. Docker, but Harvey works in the San Francisco Budget Analyst's Office, so I guess he knows a thing or two about budgets and costs and has produced some very fancy spreadsheets to support his case. Nice work Harvey!

What a wonderful, generous bunch the people of San Fransisco are! They want to shell out $128 million of their own hard-earned dough in these difficult economic times to help make the sixth richest man in the world even richer. It sure is in the finest tradition of voodoo trickle-up economics.

Meanwhile, back in Newport, the real home of the America's Cup, the America's Cup RI 2013 Planning Committee didn't lose heart when they were told that there wouldn't be an America's Cup RI 2013. They switched gears and are now working hard on preparing to host an America’s Cup pre-regatta in Newport in September 2012. Apparently Mr. Russell Coutts, bless his little cotton socks, has told the chaps in Rhode Island that there will be pre-regattas and that, "Newport will be given top priority for any such regattas in the USA." I should hope so!

The plans for the pre-regatta include upgrading Fort Adams, home of the famous Laser Fleet 413, into a world-class sailing center which could be used to host future sailing events. As far as I can tell there are no plans to donate Fort Adams State Park or any other parcels of Newport prime waterfront property to Lawrence Joseph Ellison, bless his little cotton socks. I should hope not!

Is it just my perverted perspective, or does it seem like that when you win you really lose, and that when you lose you really win?

Top Five Questions From Brave Novice Laser Sailors

From time to time I receive emails from folk who are interested in taking up Laser sailing. Typically they stumble upon this blog and after reading a few posts develop the dangerous impression that when it comes to Laser sailing I know what I'm talking about. So they fire off an email to me with a few questions. This is fine with me. I love to talk about stuff even when I don't know what I am talking about. It's genetic. I caught it from my son.

Here's an inquiry I received a few weeks ago...

I have sailed a Laser exactly 5 days in 2008. I (and the mast) spent about equal parts above and below the water during this time. This is 5 days more than the previous 46 years, and approximately half the total amount of days I’ve spent in any kind of sailboat. So clearly the next step made sense: I acquired a used Laser about 3 weeks ago and hope to get it into Long Island Sound this weekend, although I’m still gear short – no wet suit and certainly no dry suit (and none of them fancy schmancy socks you write about).

Well, at least this guy learned from this blog how important socks are to Laser sailors. (Only joking.)

The email goes on with "the questions". I have started noticing a trend in "the questions". To wit, they're the same ones over and over. Again, I don't mind answering, but I really should share.

1. Are there any good books, or other resources, about Laser sailing?
   
   Indeed there are. And a great place to start is to browse through the books and DVDs available at Laser Library on the International Laser Class website. The international office is based in the UK so all the prices on this list are in pounds sterling. But you don't have to buy them from ILCA. You can find most of these books at amazon.com, APS and other sources. (Hmmm, why does that link to an amazon.com search for 'laser sailing' display an Anne Cole Halter Mio with Laser-Cut Detail? Weird.)
   
   Anyway, my own brief comments on the list...
   
   Dick Tillman's book is a classic. Been around for a while but has been updated. A good choice for someone new to Lasering.
   
   Ainslie's book is excellent for racers, but perhaps the best all-round book on every aspect of Laser racing is the one edited by Ben Tan.
   
   The Goodison book is new and I haven't seen it yet, but ideas on Laser racing technique do change a bit from year to year so it may be worth taking a look at the newest book from one of the top Laser sailors in the world.
   
   And if you really want to learn the secrets of Laser technique, especially in heavy air, you have to see Steve Cockerill's Boat Whisperer DVD's.
   
   
   
2. What should I wear for sailing?
   
   A good starting place could be to read the advice in Steve Cockerill's article on All Weather Clothing. Of course he is promoting his own Rooster Sailing gear but it gives you an idea of how you will use layers in different temperatures.
   
   To simplify, in warm weather you will need a rash-guard or similar top, hiking pants, and hiking boots. As it gets colder you will add more layers to keep warm, perhaps a spray top, a wetsuit, and in the coldest weather a dry-suit. Don't forget PFD (a.k.a. life jacket), hat and gloves... and of course socks (only joking.)
   
   But talk to other sailors in your area. See what they are wearing in different conditions. Some of those books above also give advice on clothing.
   
   
3. How do I transport my boat?
   
   You basically have four options.
   
   
   • Upside down on a roof rack on top of your car.
     
     
   • Upside down on a trailer with suitable supports for the deck.
     
     
   • Right way up on a purpose-built Laser trailer that supports the hull under the gunwhales. Trailex and Kitty Hawk make excellent trailers of this type and I have used them both.
     
     
   • Right way up on a launching dolly on a trailer, so you can just slide the dolly off the trailer and you are ready to go. There is a Seitech set-up for this but many Laser sailors make their own slides and supports.
     
   
   Each method has pros and cons which are pretty obvious. (Or if they are not obvious to you fire me an email and I will write a post on Top Five Questions About Transporting a Laser.) Personally I have a Trailex trailer with a swivel front support which means I can unload the boat by myself. But I'm thinking of switching to option 4 which has the same advantage and is slightly more convenient to load and unload.
   
   
4. Where can I sail?
   
   Almost anywhere with a suitable beach or a ramp to launch your boat into a puddle, pond, lake, river, bay, sound, sea or ocean. That's one of the beauties of a little boat like a Laser. You don't need a marina or a hoist. You can do it by yourself if that's your thing. If you don't know where there are launching sites in your area use The Google.
   
   But do check out your local Laser fleet and go sail with them too. To find them go to the Laser Class association website for your district or region. In North America go to the ILCA-NA website where there is a clickable map of Districts in North America which will lead you to information about fleets in your area. Or find out who is your district secretary and ask them.
   
   
   
5. How do I find out about regattas near me?
   
   Same as above. Your local class website should have a schedule. Here, for example, is this year's regatta schedule for the New England district.
   

Strangely enough nobody bothers to ask the question that my friend Edward, the brave oceanic sailor, often receives from folk who are curious about his brave oceanic sailing, "How do you go to the bathroom?" Maybe because I already answered it here.

Over-analysis

"I think you're over-analyzing," my younger son told me when he called me on Sunday evening to wish me a happy Father's Day and I started to tell him why I thought I had done so badly in the regatta this weekend.

He may be right.

So here is my account of day 2 of the Saltmarsh Trophy Regatta in which I will attempt to avoid over-analysis. I'll just give you my gut feelings about why stuff happened.

It was a cool, drizzly, light east wind kind of day. It was decided to delay rigging until the rain stopped which was promised by noon. About half an hour after noon it was still raining. So we rigged in the rain. We sailed out to the course in the rain. In honor of the cooler weather I was wearing my famous sailing socks.

The first race went off in a lull. I started near the committee boat, tacked on to port right away and was soon in better pressure as I headed directly away from the shore. I checked out the fleet and saw that I was leading the pack going right and looking good compared to the pack going left in the lighter winds near the shore. I can't really discuss tides without being accused of over-analysis but I figured that they would help me too.

About three-quarters up the first beat I decided to dig back in to the middle. I had my reasons but to tell you them would be over-analysis. I was crossing the usual fleet leaders ... everyone it seemed except that rogue former All-American out on the left. As it always does, things started to go downhill a bit for me in the top quarter of the beat and one day when I'm in a mood for over-analysis I'll write a post on that topic too.

In any case I rounded the windward mark up with "the names". You know, those guys who always win the regattas in this district. Downwind I was going well, hanging in there with the names and extending my lead over that guy. I should note why I was fast downwind in these conditions but that would be over-analysis.

Anyway I ended up finishing with my best result of the regatta, just behind that other guy, so he was happy too. Gut feeling as to why? The socks of course

Race 2. Total disaster. Tried the same strategy. Right was wrong. Left was right. Rounded the windward mark at the back of the fleet with some kid and one of the Newport fleet regulars. Downwind things got worse.

After the racing I was commiserating with aforementioned Newport sailor and asked if he had noticed that even "that kid lolling in the back of the cockpit with his feet in the air" was faster than us downwind? He had, and pointed out that "that kid with a loose traveler up and down-wind" was also faster than us on the run. Gut feeling as to why? Not socks.

The race committee attempted to start a third race. Huge wind shift. General recall. More rain. Threatening clouds. RC abandoned racing for the day.

The RC was holding out cans of beer so I took one and drank it while we sailed in. Cleated the mainsheet. Tiller in one hand. Can of beer in the other. I was chatting to that other guy but, all of a sudden, I noticed I was sailing so much faster than him. By the time we arrived back at the beach I was 200 yards ahead of him. He wasn't drinking a beer while he sailed.

Now I don't want to over-analyze but there's something about this sailing one-handed while drinking beer that's really fast...

The Burning of the Socks

It will soon be time for the Burning of the Socks.

Are you ready for it?

Top Three Things I Hate About Sailing

Regular readers of this blog (all four of you) will have gathered by now that I am somewhat passionate about the sport of sailing. But there are some things about the sport that I totally abhor. So here are the top three things that I hate about sailing...

1. Waiting. I am a very impatient person. I hate to wait in any situation. My wife doesn't like going shopping with me any more because of the various highly embarrassing (to her) ways in which I display my impatience if we have to wait in a store checkout line for more than thirty seconds. Apparently deep sighs, rolling of the eyes, and glaring fiercely at the enormously overweight, painfully slow checkout clerk are not acceptable husbandly behavior at our local Stop-and-Shop.
   
   But the waiting I hate most of all is the waiting I am doing when I think I could be sailing. I think one of the reasons I am enjoying all the sailing alone that I have been doing lately is because there is no waiting. I look out of the window and see wind; I hitch up the boat and drive to the launch site; I launch; I sail.
   Whereas if I travel to a regatta I might have to...
   
   • wait on shore for the wind to come in, sometimes all day
     
   • wait on the water for the wind to come in
     
   • wait on the water for the race committee to get their act together and start racing
     
   • wait on the water in between races while the race committee try and square up the course and the line because of a two degree wind-shift
     
   • wait after racing for the results to be published and trophies to be awarded.
     
2. Breakdowns. Why do things break on my boat on the rare occasions when I'm doing well in a race? The classic example is the day at my old frostbite fleet when my gooseneck broke on almost the only occasion I was leading a race by enough to have a legitimate chance of still being ahead at the finish.
   
   I suppose I shouldn't really complain. The Laser is a pretty tough little boat and if I only took the trouble to check fittings for corrosion more religiously I would have even fewer problems. In twenty-five years of racing I can only recall one example each of breaking a mast, breaking a boom, pulling out a traveler fairlead, and pulling out a boom block. Of course that could be a case of the old geezer losing his memory. In any case, however infrequently it happens, I hate it when bits on my boat break.
   
3. Injuries. And the third thing I hate about sailing is when bits on my body break. Actually it's not so much a problem of stuff breaking but of stuff hurting too much to allow me to sail. It never seemed to be a problem when I was in my thirties, but now I am pushing sixty various body parts seem to be complaining more often about the treatment they are receiving. The back seems to have all sorts of excuses for saying it's hurting too much to go Laser sailing. There was the time I hurt my back shoveling snow and missed a frostbite season. There was the time I hurt my back putting on my socks of all things and missed a frostbite season. Currently I'm trying to pretend that the twinges in one ankle (probably caused by running) and one elbow (probably caused by too much digging in Tillerwoman's garden) are not really serious and not good enough reasons to miss any Lasering.
   
   Wait. All these injuries were caused, not by sailing, but by other pursuits such as shoveling snow and putting socks on. There's a lesson there somewhere.

I did think of adding a fourth thing that I hate about sailing. Cheaters. People who blatantly break Rule 42 and think they need to rock and roll and pump their boat around the race course to beat an old geezer like me. Or the guy who fouled me in a clear port-starboard incident on the starboard tack layline at that regatta a few weeks ago. (You know who you are.) But I don't really hate these cheaters. I pity them. If they really feel they need to cheat in order to win a cheezy plastic trophy then I feel sorry for them. I really don't care enough about winning a race or a regatta to want to do it by cheating. If you beat me by cheating then you didn't really beat me, did you? I know that. You know that. Everyone else in the fleet knows that. I don't hate you. I feel sorry for you, you worthless scumbag.

So that leaves three things I hate about sailing. But wait. All those things are just obstacles that prevent me from sailing. Whether it's waiting to sail, or not being able to sail because a bit broke on my boat, or not being being able to sail because a bit broke on me... I only hate them because they are stopping me from sailing. I guess I really like everything about sailing, after all..

What about you? What do you hate about sailing?

Hang on to the Mainsheet

Continuing my series of posts of Tillerman's Top Five Tips For Making Sure I Don't Die on my Laser, my third tip is... if you fall out of the boat for any reason, Hang on to the Mainsheet.

I guess this piece of advice is really just a means to following that instruction given to all beginning dinghy sailors: Stay With the Boat. I used to drum that into my little Opti students right from the first day on the water. If the boat capsizes or you fall out of the boat, stay with the boat. Do not under any circumstances try and swim to the shore. From my coach boat I can see an Optimist in trouble a mile away. I may not see a little head in the water 50 yards away if it's choppy. Also your boat floats so hang on to it.

Where was I? Oh yes, how to stay alive on a Laser. Or rather off a Laser.

In most capsizes it's not too difficult to maintain contact with the boat...

The best of all is the so-called "dry" capsize. The boat goes over to leeward; you step over the windward rail on the daggerboard; you right the boat and step back into the cockpit without ever getting your feet wet. The youngsters do this on about 90% of capsizes; with my slow reactions I do this on about 0.05% of capsizes.

Next best is when the boat goes over and you fall in the water next to the boat. You can swim round to the daggerboard while still in contact with the hull. No problem.

But there will be times when the boat decides to eject you in a way that will initially leave you some distance from the boat.

One method the boat uses to achieve this is when you have just completed a perfect tack to lee-bow "that guy" and as you hike out on the new windward side you realize (too late) that the boat has tricked you into not putting either of your feet under the hiking strap and so you fall backwards headfirst out of the boat and everyone around including "that guy" laughs their socks off.

Another favorite way for your Laser to eject you is the famous "death roll". This is a windward capsize when heading downwind which can happen so fast that you don't even know it's happened until you notice that you are totally underwater and the boat is sailing off without you.

It's occasions like these that you need to hang on to the mainsheet. Your Laser probably won't sail very far away without you in it, but some days it can go even faster without your 200+lbs of weight slowing it down. In particular, a Laser that has done one of those pretty death rolls where the boom stays sticking up in the air can sail surprisingly quickly downwind in a good blow.

So it's important to hang on to something that connects you to the boat. Now, of course you are already holding two things that connect you to the boat: the mainsheet and the tiller extension. For many beginners the instinct is to hang on to the tiller extension. Do not follow this instinct. When your body weight levers the tiller extension against the gunwhale of the boat as you fall in the water, only two things can happen, both of them bad: the tiller extension can bend (if made of aluminum) or it can break (if you have one of those fancy schmancy ones made of carbon fiber.) Either way it's going to be expensive, and either way you probably aren't going to be able to sail very well with it in its altered form. Worst case you are suddenly floating around on your own holding half of an expensive carbon-fiber tiller extension with a nasty jagged end while your boat runs away downwind on its own at a rate of knots.

So hang on to the frigging mainsheet. Say this mantra to yourself ten times every night before you go to bed.

Even if you do hang on to the mainsheet your troubles may not be entirely over. Nine times out of ten the boat will round up, capsize if hasn't done so already, or just generally behave itself while you reel it in and regain contact with the hull. I do recall one day though when I fell out of the boat (don't ask how -- some stupid mistake or other) and as I hung on to the mainsheet the boat carried on sailing downwind at great speed... dragging me along underwater as it did so. That was a fun ride I can tell you. It wasn't so much fun when I surfaced and realised that my involuntary underwater speed swim was so fast it had sucked my expensive prescription sunglasses (which were of course secured by a croakie) right off my head and they were now sinking into the depths of Lake Ontario and I was now as blind as a bat. There are days when I wish I wore contact lenses.

Anyway hang on to the mainsheet. I do pretty much all the time these days... except when I forget to, or when I am too busy using both hands to try and disentangle myself from the mainsheet of some other dude who is trying to strangle me.

Wear a Wetsuit or Drysuit if the Water is Cold

The second of Tillerman's Top Five Tips For Making Sure I Don't Die On My Laser is wear a wetsuit or drysuit if the water is cold.

Yeah right. Like tip #1: Wear a Life Jacket this is not exactly controversial advice. Laser sailing is a wet sport. You will get wet from spray if it's windy. You will probably fall in the water sooner or later.

Cold water is not just annoying.
Cold water will kill you.
Faster than you might think.

Forget hypothermia (for now). Sudden entry into cold water can cause cardiac arrest, even for people in good health. And the initial shock of the cold water can also cause an involuntary gasp reflex that can cause victims to inhale water and drown. That's why it's so important to Wear a Life Jacket... because it's probably a good thing if your head isn't underwater when you experience that "involuntary gasp reflex". If you don't believe me, ask the Coast Guard.

So let's assume you don't die immediately of a heart attack or of drowning when you fall off your Laser into the icy waters. Your next potential problem is hypothermia. An adult dressed in average clothing may remain conscious for an hour in water at 40 degrees F and perhaps 2-3 hours at 50 degrees F. But actually things are more serious than these numbers suggest because any movement in the water accelerates heat loss, and survival time can be reduced to minutes. And the numbing effect of the cold water will prevent you from swimming. If you don't think cold water is all that dangerous, just read some of the tragic stories at the bottom of this page about off-season boating. Nine elite marines trained as water survival instructors unable to swim 100 yards to safety! Another guy drowned 25 yards from shore!

So wear a wetsuit or a drysuit if the water is cold. How cold? Some people go by the "100 degree rule" and think you should wear thermal protection if the air temperature plus water temperature is less than 100 degrees F.

The Laser frostbite fleet that I used to sail with in Connecticut had a rule that sailors had to wear a wetsuit or a drysuit at all times. Their season was from mid-October to mid-May (with a break in the middle of winter). Not a bad guideline for southern New England. Remember those warm spring days in early May can be very deceptive; the air may feel warm but the water is still very cold.

Personally, I'm a total wimp about feeling cold on the water. Irrespective of any personal survival issues, I hate to be shivering when I'm sailing. So I put on a wetsuit in marginal conditions, and quickly switch to a drysuit when it becomes at all wintry. Keeping head and hands and feet warm is important for my comfort too. I've reviewed sailing gloves and socks here before, and I have another pair of cold weather gloves to review as soon as the weather is chilly enough.

I know some Laser sailors are not too fond of drysuits. Something about interfering with their "oneness" with the boat. So they tough it out in a wetsuit all winter. I'm not really into "oneness". I'm generally in the "twoness with the boat" zone. Probably partly explains why I sail so slow.

I could go on a lot more about wetsuits and drysuits. Shortie or longie? Bootee or not bootee? Hiking pads inside or outside? Is bare skin faster than neoprene? (Seriously.) But this post is too long already. Less is more.

How about you? What do you wear for cold weather sailing?

Pause for laughter while my blogging friends in New Mexico and Florida work out the most sarcastic way to answer that question...

Work

Laser sailors work harder.

Tuesday night racing this week delivered the best winds this summer so far. A solid 15-20 knots out of the SW that held up all evening. Sadly, only five of us were there to enjoy it.

The first couple of races I found myself off the pace upwind and I was fourth in both races. Before the third race the wind picked up a tad more and I told myself, "You're tall, you're heavy, just hike your socks off and blow them all away." (OK, you're the oldest sailor here too (by far) but just forget that.)

So I reached down to the rabbit, hardened up around his transom and started hiking and working the boat like a demon. I channeled all those videos of "real" Laser sailors torquing the boat through chop, throwing my upper body out and back on every significant wave. Coach Rulo at Cabarete told me that one of my faults was that I was "too quiet" in the boat upwind. Well, I wasn't "quiet" in this race. It certainly felt fast. Surely all this work must be worth it? After a minute or two I was huffing and puffing with all the effort. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that I was sailing faster and higher than all the other boats and that I could easily cross them. Another minute or so of a-hiking and a-torquing and a-huffing and a-puffing and I tacked, crossing the fleet easily. I arrived at the windward mark in first place. Woo hoo.

It must have been windier than the first two races because halfway down the run I heard a splash and looked back to see that my closest competitor had death-rolled. Woo hoo again. I surfed down to the finish winning the race by the largest margin that evening.

One sailor went home after the second race (broken tiller) and another packed it in after the third race (tired.) And then there were three.

I lost count of how many more races we sailed after that. The wind strength held up and in every race we were close at the windward mark and close at the finish. Perfect winds. Hard close racing. Race after race after race. Great training.

And so I confirmed what all the books say and all the coaches say. If you want to go fast upwind in moderate to heavy winds and chop, then you have to hike hard and work the boat. The harder you work the faster you go. Simple really.

Laser sailors, "Work harder!"

One and One and One is Three

Three more entries today in this month's group writing project Please Please Me in which I invited you to write posts inspired by Beatles song titles or Beatles song lyrics.

Jack Ryan who hangs out at ManCaveAlpha has submitted She's Leaving Home, a touching tale of his feelings for his own daughter and memories of things they did together as she now prepares to leave home. He says he has told her that "if you want to launch big ships, you have to go where the water is deep." Deep. Very deep.

She's Leaving Home was on the Beatles album Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band released in 1967, and was inspired by a true story that Paul and John saw in the Daily Mirror newspaper about a 17-year-old girl called Melanie Coe. Not everyone knows that a couple of years later in 1969, Melanie was dating Burt Ward, who played Robin in the sixties TV series Batman. It must be true. I read it in the Daily Mail. Let's hope that Jack Ryan's daughter has better taste in men.

Andrew Sadler who writes SadlerBootwerk is also thinking of his daughter, Em, and wants to watch her sail in an Optimist regatta this weekend. So he is lending his 16m2 to his friend Jaap so he can sail it in the class's 80th birthday regatta. What a guy! I wonder if Andrew was singing (Baby you can) Drive My Car as he handed the boat over to Jaap? If so, I hope Jaap didn't misunderstand him because, according to Wikipedia which is never wrong, Paul McCartney knew when he and John wrote Drive My Car that the title was an old blues euphemism for sex. I'm shocked! We were so innocent in the sixties we would never have thought of that.


Finally, Smilicus, our blogging friend from South Africa, has submitted Taxman. He seems to think that Davy Jones and the taxman are equally voracious. Taxman was a George Harrison composition and was the opening track on the Beatles' 1966 album Revolver. Not many people know that Taxman received the ultimate accolade that any song can achieve when Weird Al Jankovic recorded a parody of it in 1981 called Pac-Man.

There's still plenty of time for you to enter this contest. I guess it's a contest. There might be a prize. I'm not sure whether to donate my old sailing socks or the bottom half of my broken Laser mast. I'm sure both have considerable sentimental value for folk who have read about them on this blog. How could anyone resist such a prize? Full details of how to enter at Please Please Me.

Are Laser Sailors Crazy?

I might be crazier than I had imagined.

Last week I was at the Laser Training Center in Cabarete in the Dominican Republic attending a 4-day Laser racing clinic followed by a 1-day regatta. There were about 18 sailors on the clinic, mainly from the USA but also from Europe and Japan, including a bunch of us from southern New England who already knew each other. We sailed every day in all sorts of winds and wave conditions. We listened to instruction on the finer points of Laser sailing from head coach Rulo. We watched videos of us Laser sailing and videos of good sailors Laser sailing. We discussed sailing over breakfast. We discussed sailing over dinner. Speaking purely for myself I also dreamed about sailing. I didn't wear socks or long pants all week.

The picture above is of me, surfing down a wave, crossing the finish line of the final race on Saturday. I do recall that I was whooping, "Woo hoo!" in celebration of completing a fantastic week of sailing in warm weather and warm water. In January! Woo hoo!

In the few hours of free time last week when I was not sailing or learning about sailing or talking about sailing or dreaming about sailing, I read a book. The book was not about sailing; it was about madness.

The book was The Psychopath Test: A Journey Through the Madness Industry by Jon Ronson. Among other things the book explores the theory that many important CEOs and politicians are actually psychopaths.

The book also takes aim at the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) published by the American Psychiatric Association which attempts to list every known mental disorder. The first edition of DSM was only 65 pages long, but the latest edition is 943 pages long and lists 374 different mental disorders. Of course the drug companies love this. The more disorders there are, the more opportunity there is to market drugs to "treat" all these disorders. But it is certainly questionable whether the DSM now labels as mental disorders many ordinary behaviors which are perhaps only slightly unusual or a little difficult for others to deal with.

In The Psychopath Test Ronson describes how he got hold of a copy of DSM and was quickly able to diagnose himself with 12 different mental disorders. There was Arithmetic Learning Disorder (sums are hard for him) and Parent-Child Relational Problem (tense homework situation with his mother brought on by sums being hard) and Caffeine Induced Disorder (feeling jittery after drinking coffee) and so on and so on. Ronson concluded that he was much crazier than he had previously imagined.

I haven't seen the DSM but I wouldn't be at all surprised if there is a mental disorder called Irrational Exuberant Vocalization Disorder (IEVD). This is characterized by spontaneous utterances of incoherent and meaningless whoops and squeals, sometimes accompanied by tics such as pumping one fist in the air. If there was a video, and not a still shot, of me crossing the finish line in that race on Saturday you would clearly see and hear that I am suffering from IEVD. I might be crazy after all.

On the plane ride back from the Dominican Republic on Sunday afternoon I began to realize that IEVD might be much more common than I had imagined. From time to time the quiet atmosphere of the darkened airplane cabin would be punctuated with infantile squeals of glee emanating from otherwise apparently normal American male adults. It seemed like half the men on the plane had IEVD. I saw a man across the aisle in front of me pumping both fists in the air and heard him emit a few screams of "woo hoo" after which he was blathering "yes yes yes" and drooling a little.

What on earth was going on? I got up to walk to the bathroom at the back of the plane and on my return I noticed that most of the seat-back TV screens were tuned to some channel which was showing that weird American game where men in tight pants bend over with their bums in their air and then run into each other and fall over when the pretty white boy throws a pointy object away. It seemed that all the IEVD sufferers were watching this channel. How odd!

Anyway, I need to get hold of a copy of DSM to see if I am really crazy. Perhaps all Laser sailors are crazy?

12 Races

I kind of went crazy with running races in 2013. I ran 12 races in the year, certainly more races than I have run for many years - perhaps more races in a year than I have ever run before - for a total of over 80 miles of racing.

Part of the motivation was an attempt to qualify in the Grand Prix Series of the Rhode Island Rhode Running Club. This originally involved running in 9 out of 15 designated races around Rhode Island and nearby states, with the distances ranging from 5ks to half marathons. This was changed during the year to 8 out of 14 races due to some canceled race or scheduling conflict. I forget the details.

You know how I am with crazy artificial participation challenges. So I went for it and I did complete the required 8 races to qualify. (I could have done the 9 if I had needed to - so there!) I didn't make the top 5 but I was up there at times. And I did discover some new, different, interesting races as a result.



The year started, as it always seems to lately, on New Year's Day with the Hangover Classic 5 Miler in Bristol, which I wrote about at Celebrating the New Year Tillerman Style. It was frigging cold. There was ice on parts of the course. But I ran a good time (for me) so that was all good.



For reasons that escape me now I ran another race in Little Compton only 4 days later, a 4.8 mile road race. It wasn't even on the grand prix circuit. I must have been crazy.



In February I ran the 15k Run the Reservoir Race in N. Scituate RI, another regular on my schedule these days and took a few photos to use in one of my incredibly annoying Where Am I? quizzes. I thought my shot of the ladies lining up for the Porta Potty before the race was especially well-framed. O Docker was first to answer the quiz correctly. Isn't he always?

In early April I entered another of the grand prix races, the Thomas Giunta 5k in Fall River. Fall River MA is the town immediately to the north of my current home town of Tiverton RI but I hadn't thought of it as much of a running venue before. How wrong I was! The race is in honor of a fallen police officer and the pre-race ceremonies were very moving. I started near the back of the pack and had a lot of trouble in the first mile picking my way past the ladies who like to walk six-abreast with strollers and similar obstacles. But surprisingly in this race I achieved my best age-graded score in the grand prix series of all eight grand prix races I ran. No idea why. Maybe having to go slow in the first half mile ain't such a bad plan after all?

I took the opportunity of the Fall River race to take some urban landscape photos for another Where Am I?  quiz. O Docker was first to get it right. Again. Isn't he always?

The Laser frostbiting season was still going strong on the last weekend in April when I skipped sailing to go and run the Newport 10 Miler. The race started and ended at Fort Adams, the home of the Laser frostbite fleet, and at least one superfit young dude did both the running race and the Laser racing. Not me! I was knackered after the running so I went home and wrote a post about Socks. Sounds like I spent most of the race looking at lady runners' legs. Hey, it takes a long time for me to run 10 miles. I have to find something to pass the time.

At the end of May I went into Boston to run one of my favorite half marathons and wrote about it at A Half to Remember. Memorial Day Weekend. A few weeks after the Boston marathon bombings. A race which is always in honor of fallen Boston police officers, and this year especially in memory of Sean Collier the MIT police officer murdered by the marathon bombers. A very emotional day. Glad I was there to express my thanks to all the police officers attending for their courage and professionalism in dealing with the extraordinary challenge the city faced this Spring. Boston Strong!



On the first weekend of June 1 decided to bag another grand prix race. And I was so glad I did for several reasons. It was way over on the other side of the state, at least 30 minutes driving, a 5k in North Smithfield. It was the hottest day of the year up to then, so I didn't run very fast but discovered afterwards that I had scored two achievements…

• First it seemed that not many of the other Rhode Island Rhode Runner grand prix point baggers had bothered to brave the wilds of far north-western Rhode Island so I ended up in third place among "Rhode Island Rhode Runner men grand prix point baggers who bothered to do the race and also qualify for the full series." That didn't do my series score any harm. Woo hoo! I'll take it.
• Even better I achieved something I had only done once before in my life. I won a running trophy! It was only for second place in the "incredibly old geezers - we are amazed that they can actually stagger round the course in this heat" category. But even so. Only Twice in a Lifetime!  Woo hoo! I'll take it.

I also managed to use a photo of part of my trophy in one of my world famous What is this?  quizzes.

Guesses ranged from a Blogulator 5000 to a roll of carpet, and an armadillo. For once it wasn't O Docker who got it right.



Geeze, this post is dragging on and we are only up to race #7. Time to pick up the pace.



There was a 10 mile race on a Friday evening in July in Narragansett. It was called the Blessing of the Fleet but I never saw any blessed fleet. It was a showery, damp, humid day. The parking was a long way from the start. It rained on me at the end of the race. I couldn't find any free food or drink after the race. The finish was even further from the parking than the start was. But I did see an amazing double rainbow over the bay (through my rain-spattered spectacles)

There was a 5 mile race on a Sunday in August on Common Fence Point in Portsmouth. I ran out of oomph. Probably because I did a 12 mile training run only two days before. Some times I am really dumb.

There was a 5k race on a Sunday in September in Warren. It was called Finish for the Guinness. They gave you a Guinness to drink at the finish. I should have taken a photo of it to use in a What is this? quiz.



And there was a half marathon on a Sunday in October, the UnitedHealthcare Newport Half Marathon.  Best weekend of the year because…

• Spectacular course
• I didn't run out of oomph
• My son ran the race with me
• My son had a son on the day before the race.

And there was a 5k in Barrington on the Saturday after Thanksgiving to Trot Your Turkey Off, and that's all I have to say about that.



Phew.

So there you have it.

12 races. Four 5ks. One 4.8 mile. Two 5 miles. One 15k. Two 10 milers. Two half marathons.

82. 7 miles.

I must be crazy.

Reviews What I Have Writ

This month's group writing project (which was launched yesterday) is Write a Review. If you're still casting around for inspiration, here are a few reviews that have appeared on Proper Course over the years.

Advanced Laser Boat Handling DVD - "Don't tell Ari but I would probably have paid even more for it; it's that good."

UK-Halsey Racing Rules Quiz Program - "Will also teach a thing or two to arrogant bastards like me who think they know it all."

Bottleport - "What can I say? It works exactly as advertised. No problems whatsoever."

Intensity Sails Tyvek Regatta Deck Cover for Laser Sailboats - "If Jim would just treat the cover with a marsupial repellent I would give it 100 out of 100."

Sailfit Laser Sailing Seminar - "When do we break for lunch? Never, apparently."

Evelyn's Drive-In - "A clam sandwich and a local brew sitting by the water. What could be better on a hot, humid summer day?"

Intensity Sails Gription Hiking Strap - "Scientific tests have shown that Lasers with the Intensity Sails Gription Hiking Strap are on average 0.38 of a knot faster than other Lasers."

NRS Hydroskin G2 Socks - "Some serious sock science brainpower has been at work here."

Minorca Sailing - "I guess sailing instructors do remember the day they thought, if only for a second, that they might have drowned a client."

Tacticat - "Less broccoli and more heroin than Second Life."

Uncrustables - "They taste vile."

Full details of how to participate in this month's group writing project at Write a Review. Deadline for submissions is Monday July 13.

In The Groove

I have mentioned before that the first day of the Newport Regatta (weekend before last) was somewhat frustrating for me for all sorts of reasons, not least because of the light, fickle winds.

The winds on the second day were much more reliable. We sailed out to the course in a light northerly which died and then switched to southerly just as we reached the race area. Then the southerly continued to build during the day from "sit on the deck" sailing to "occasional hiking" weather to "hike all the time" conditions. Then, as soon as the last race was over, it increased another few notches to "hike your socks off" fun for the long beat back to Fort Adams.

The race committee did a superb job of keeping the races rolling. There were five or six different fleets sailing on the same course but we never seemed to have to wait for other fleets. As soon as one race was over and the tailenders (often including me) had straggled across the finish line, it was into the sequence for the next start. So we managed to complete seven races on the Sunday.

My finishes were generally mediocre to disappointing, usually in the lower teens in the 23 boat fleet. But I was having fun battling it out with all the other bottom-half-of-the-fleet mediocrities. And as the winds strengthened during the day it was necessary to keep adjusting sail controls and boat-handling technique for the changing conditions, which kept things interesting.

On the final beat to the finish of the second race of the day something really odd happened. I was going extraordinarily well! I was sailing higher and faster than all the other boats around me! My sail control settings must have been just right for that wind strength, and somehow the way I was trimming and balancing the boat was just right too. How did that happen?

I think part of the reason was that before racing I had been listening to one of the top Sunfish sailors describe his upwind technique in various wind conditions to some of the other Sunfish sailors. He talked about how he kept the boat flat as the wind increased through different ranges. One thing he said had stuck in my mind, and that was how at a certain wind strength your weight is distributed between your feet in the cockpit and your butt on the deck and how you can keep the boat perfectly flat by subtly shifting weight from feet to butt and back again to deal with minor changes in wind speed. He said it was incredibly fast if you just get it right. Somehow his description of that feeling had stuck in my mind and I had fallen (by dumb luck of course) into "the groove."

Ah! The Groove. The Elusive Groove. The secret to boatspeed. That perfect combination of sail controls and boat trim and boat handling technique that is fastest in any given conditions. It's like jazz and love: it's hard to define but you know it when you feel it.

Would my luck hold for the next race? Would I still be in the groove? It was a black flag start but I didn't let that deter me. I found a good gap on the line. I pulled the trigger at just the right time. I accelerated well and made sure I was a little bow out on the boats to leeward and windward of me. O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! I was punching out ahead of all the other boats around me, just like I was in the ultimately disastrous third race at the Atlantic Coast Masters a few weeks before.

So, I can pull off one good start per regatta. So what? Why can't I do it more often? More importantly (a) would disaster strike again like it did on Buzzards Bay and (b) would I still be in the groove?

Disaster did not strike and more importantly I was sailing fast. It felt like the previous race but, of course, it always feels fast when you are in clear air in front of the fleet. I was definitely up with the leaders most of the way up the beat, but I got a little discombobulated coming into the windward mark and played the final shift wrong and a few boats got past me. (It's amazing that none of those sailing books by Stuart Walker and Paul Elvstrøm and the like address the subject of discombobulation.) Anyway I held on pretty well for the rest of the race and finished in sixth, which turned out to be my best score of the whole regatta.

Of course in the next race the wind was a bit stronger and the groove was somewhere different so I wasn't in it any more and I muffed the start and I was back with the tailenders again.

Some wise sailing coach once said to me, "You have to be inconsistently good before you can be consistently good." At Newport I was pleased with myself that I had for a short while found "the groove" and that I had raised my game from consistently bad to inconsistently good.

It tasted sweet while it lasted.

Back Pain - there's an app for that

Regular readers of this blog will know that from time to time I suffer from lower back pain.

I don't think it's directly caused by Laser sailing (although that may be a contributing factor.) The pain can be triggered by the silliest things like putting my socks on or reaching for a weed in the garden. (A doctor recently told me that primary care physicians hear stories like that all the time.)

But I think the last two bouts have been brought on by my bad posture while spending way too much time hunched over a computer writing blog posts and other stuff.



/Pam over at the Improper Course blog (where did they get that name from) posted some advice on the issue the other day at No More Back Pain. And there's plenty of other advice on the Internet including many videos on how to contort yourself into various poses and if you only do them for 6 hours a day, 365 days a year you will never experience back pain again.

Do this for 6 hours a day 

and never experience back pain again

Or you could go to a doctor who will chop off parts of your spine, or stick together parts of your spine, or replace parts of your spine, or implant some doohickey in your spine. You know the old saying: If all you have is a scalpel, the solution to everything is back surgery. (Or something.

Back surgery

Or if you are not into knives then you can go to a man or woman with big hands called a "chiropractor" who will push and pull at bits of your back and make it crack a lot and then give you a bill and never tell you that you would have got better anyway without having him or her crack your bones.

Your chiropractor with her previous patient

But now there's a better solution. At least for people like me who mess up their backs with bad blogging posture. There's an app for that. Or to be more accurate a device and an app. It's called the Lumo Lift.

The Lumo Lift is a small device that you place on your clothing near your collar and it detects the curvature at the top of your spine. When you slouch, your spine curves, and the Lumo Lift gives a small buzz to remind you to straighten up.  (Just like your Mum and your schoolteacher and your drill sergeant used to.) The Lumo Lift can also track your physical activity like the Fitbit and other gadgets.

Wow. What will they think of next?

Attractive young lady wearing a Lumo Lift

Check out all the details and buy one for everyone you know who has bad posture at www.lumobodytech.com



Full disclosure: I did not receive any bribes or payments or free samples to write this review and to be honest I have never even tried a Lumo Lift so I have absolutely no idea whether it really works or not, but it does sound like more fun than back surgery. All opinions are my own (except when I used cut and paste.)

At Last

We moved to Rhode Island in May of 2007. There were several reasons for choosing this area to spend our retirement, but as an avid sailor a big factor for me was the closeness to opportunities for sailing, especially Laser sailing. The plan was to sail many of the New England Laser regattas in the summer and to race with the Newport Laser frostbite fleet in the winter.

It didn't quite work out as planned. Sure I sailed a lot of Laser regattas in the summers of 2007 and 2008. But a stupid injury to my back in October of last year prevented me from sailing at the start of the frostbite season in early November. By the time my back had healed we were in the middle of winter and I chickened out on joining in with the frostbiting for three reasons...

• It was frigging cold
  
  
• I had sailing trips planned to the Caribbean, Australia and Florida in the early months of this year which seemed more than enough to satisfy my sailing addiction
  
  
• It was frigging cold.
  

But this winter is going to be different. I took care of my back, avoiding violent sports like putting my socks on too vigorously. And so on Sunday I sailed my first day with the Newport Laser fleet, 18 months after moving here partly for that specific purpose.

Man, what an eye opener. The wind was gusty and shifty with huge changes in wind direction and speed. The sailing area is pretty well surrounded by buildings on all four sides so I expect these conditions are pretty typical. By my own rough count there were over 60 Lasers racing, the start line was short, and the tide was pushing the fleet over the line. Every race had several general recalls before the fleet got away.

I have to say I was not on top of my game. My starts were awful. I struggled to keep in phase with the crazy shifts, and to change gears as the wind velocity went up and down. A minute or two into the first race I was capsized by some freak shift. This never happens to me. My starts and first beats were consistently awful but after that I was fast enough to pick off a few boats downwind and at most mark roundings.

So racing with this fleet is going to be great practice for me. Should sharpen up many aspects of my game including starts, big fleet strategy, dealing with shifts... and judging from some new aches and pains I was feeling on Monday it's also going to be great for my overall sailing fitness. Not to mention that it was actually a hell of a lot of fun too.

Can't wait for next Sunday.

Diana and Joe's House of Only Orange Shirts 78th Sail

Orange is my favorite color.

My favorite regatta T-shirt is orange. It is from CORK 2001. The CORK in Kingston Ontario, not Cork in Ireland. It has a pretty picture of two sailboats on the front and a list of all the classes and events that are part of CORK on the back. Nary a sponsor's name in sight. Putting sponsors' names on T-shirts is so tacky. A classy shirt, if a T-shirt can be classy. Anyway it's much more classy than Edward's tangerine shirt.

Regular readers of this blog, all three of you, may also recall a post from a couple of years ago, You're So Vain, about a sailor and his orange hat. I wonder if you recognized the sailor that I was writing about? You're so vain, I bet you think this blog is about you, don't you, don't you?

Yeah, I love orange. I think it is a very yachtie color. And it harmonizes perfectly with my yellow PFD.

So I was thrilled when Mr. J. Bushkey won first prize in the Where Is This Sea? competition, said prize being name sponsor rights to my 75th sail of 2008, and he chose to name the 75th sail after the famous Diana and Joe's House of Only Orange Shirts.

Yes, yes, yes. I know that the 75th sail was actually named after the Bottleport Patent Pending Hydration Solution for Small Sailboats and Other Watercraft. That was a screw-up in the Proper Course Marketing Department. I tell you, those guys down on the 63rd floor are so inundated these days with requests to sponsor my sails that the left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing. I fired the Director of Digital Relationship Marketing and two of the Senior E-Commerce Affiliate Marketing Coordinators for failing to handle Mr. Bushkey's prize correctly, so I hope that will serve as a message to the rest of them.

Where was I? Where am I? Oh yes. Orange shirts.

So it was actually my 78th sail of 2008 that was named in honor of the one and only Diana and Joe's House of Only Orange Shirts. Last weekend my son was staying with us, so on Saturday we headed out for a repeat of my 77th sail, Bristol Harbor to Mount Hope Bridge into Mount Hope Bay, and back. Except this time the wind was stronger, 15 knots gusting to 20, and from the opposite direction, the north. Otherwise, the conditions were identical.

As we sailed south into the mouth of the harbor we escaped the lee of the land and enjoyed the relatively unusual experience of planing near dead downwind in flat water. After catching our breath we reached back and forth for a while in the wide part of the harbor throwing up plumes of spray and the occasional whoop.

"So where shall we go?" I asked the little dude.

After some discussion we decided to go under the bridge and into My Bay. Wow. What an experience. The wind was blowing straight down the full length of the bay, seven miles of interrupted water. It was like some of the sailing I've done on the open ocean at major regattas. Big rolling waves, strong winds, hike your socks off weather. What a workout!

Once we had had enough upwind work we broad reached our way from one side of the bay to the other, over and over, riding those waves, until we reached the bridge. One of the best sailing experiences of the year.

By contrast, the beat back to the top of Bristol Harbor was pretty shitty. Wind coming off the land, all chopped up and shifty and variable. Slam dunk headers. Unpredictable gusts. It was impossible to get in a groove as the wind was changing strength and direction every few seconds. Ah well, you can't have everything.

So a good day out with my son. Congratulations to Mr. J. Bushkey for winning the competition. I never knew that any of my readers were experts in Titan geography. And a big shout-out for my sponsors, the renowned Diana and Joe's House of Only Orange Shirts.