Help JP Crack the Code

Captain JP was out for a jog
When he had a brilliant idea for his blog.
He wrote it down on his phone
But the idea's now unknown
'Cause the note's as clear as an old London fog.



The note mentions some bloke called O Docker
(Who, as the Brits say, is clean off his rocker)
And some tasteful pics
Perhaps bikini-clad chicks?
Well that would be a real shocker.



So please help JP in cracking the code.
If you don't do what he's owed
It will drive him to drinking.
What the hell was he thinking?
Quick! Or his head will explode!

Wear a Life Jacket

The first of Tillerman's Top Five Tips For Making Sure I Don't Die On My Laser is Wear a Life Jacket.

OK. OK. I know it's not exactly earth-shattering or new news. Most small boat sailors know that they should wear a "life jacket" or as they are known these days a Personal Flotation Device (or PFD). But there are two questions that merit further discussion...

1. What kind of PFD should you wear?
   
2. When should you wear it?

It will come as no surprise to regular readers of this blog that I am quite anal about both these issues...

What kind of PFD should you wear?
In the US, the Coast Guard approves various "types" of PFD. The most popular and appropriate for Laser sailing is the Type III. These are intended for use "in calm water where there is good chance of fast rescue." They must provide at least 15.5 pounds of buoyancy but will generally not turn an unconscious person face-up.

Hmmm. Calm water? I don't always sail in calm water. Good chance of fast rescue? Not much chance of that if I'm off practicing on my own.

Anyway, for better or worse, that's what I choose. For the last three years I've been using a Lotus Lola which one of my sons bought me for Xmas in 2006 after some blogger dropped hints on the subject.

Some US Laser sailors wear PFD's that are not US Coast Guard approved. They may be somewhat less bulky than the USCG Type III PFDs; they may be more comfortable; they almost certainly provide less than the 15.5 lbs of buoyancy called for in the Type III spec. So why do I stick to Coast Guard approved jackets?

The reason is that some regattas in the US mandate USCG approved PFDs in the Sailing Instructions. I would always comply with such a rule. Those "other" Laser sailors who use non-USCG-approved PFDs don't always comply. I do because I feel that to blatantly ignore a requirement in the SIs is cheating. Call me anal if you like, but that's the way I am.

And if I'm going to have to wear a USCG-approved PFD in some regattas then I feel that I might as well wear the same PFD all the time, so that I become comfortable with it.

When should you wear a PFD?
Only in regattas? Only when sailing alone? Only in heavy winds?

This is another subject I'm pretty anal about. I wear it all the time I'm on the water, no exceptions.

Why is that?

Two reasons I guess.

The first is akin to the reason why I use a Type III PFD. If I'm going to have to wear some kind of PFD when I'm racing (almost always mandated by the SIs these days) then I figure I should wear it all the time even when I'm just practicing.

Only 4-5 knots of wind on a little puddle of lake in the middle of summer? Sure. I will wear my PFD in those conditions because I might be sailing a regatta in such a situation one day. If I wear the PFD when I'm practicing I might actually win such a regatta.

The second reason I got into the habit of always wearing my PFD on the water goes back to the days when I worked as a sailing instructor. One of the clubs at which I worked had a rule that all junior sailors had to wear life-jackets when sailing; but it was optional for adults. I always thought this was totally ridiculous. Many of the kids were better swimmers than the adults. And I thought it would be the height of hypocrisy for me to insist that my students had to wear PFDs if I didn't wear one myself. That's when I started wearing a PFD all the time on the water, even on a little puddle with no wind in the height of summer. To set a good example for the kids.

So that's my personal philosophy on PFDs. Pretty anal I know.

So how about you? What kind of PFD do you prefer? What's your personal policy of when you wear it and when you don't?

Blank

This post intentionally left blank.

Staying Alive

You may have read on the Scuttlebutt Forum the story of Thorsten Cook who fell off his boat during the recent Star North Americans and (according to Mr. Cook) "nearly drowned". Notwithstanding that he was wearing one of those inflatable life vests that didn't inflate and that he forgot how to inflate it manually, his account seemed to pin a lot of the responsibility for his near drowning on the race committee and focused on various issues associated with communication between competitors and the RC by VHF or cell phone.

Now I don't want to rehash Mr Cook's case here. If you want to join that debate please feel free to do so at the Scuttlebutt forum. But it did start me thinking about my own approach to making sure that I come back alive every time I go out Laser sailing. I do feel it's largely my own personal responsibility to look after my own safety and have made a list for myself of Tillerman's Top Five Tips For Making Sure I Don't Die On My Laser. Some of my advice might even be useful to other small boat sailors...

I was going to write a post on that topic. But then I realised that I had so much to say about each of the Top Five Tips that it would make more sense to have a separate post about each tip. So that's what I will be blogging about over the next few days... unless one of my anal commenters provokes me to address some other random topic.

Big River

I read a lot of posts on sailing blogs every day. Some are funny; some are thought-provoking; some teach me something; some even inspire me. And a lot are pretty mundane.

Then occasionally a blogger finds a subject that stimulates their own creativity to a whole new level and they write a jewel of a post that gives the reader whole new insights into their world. Such a post as the one that Pat, of Desert Sea - New Mexico Sailing, submitted for Captain JP's World Rivers blogging challenge this week.

It's all about Pat's early life growing up by the side of the Rio Grande, and his life today a thousand miles upstream on the same river. A very special post...

Baja y alta, un rio, dos republicas, dos capitulos de vida

Don't worry. The rest of the post is in English!

Enjoy.

7 Signs That I May Be Anal-Retentive

1. I have a picture of a Flemish coil on the wall in my dining room.
   
   
2. I have kept an accurate running diary since 24 December 1990, with details of how long I ran each day, route, weather etc. etc. etc.
   
   
3. I once wrote to the editors of the Oxford English Dictionary to point out an error in their definition of "water".
   
   
4. I have a copy of every version of the Racing Rules of Sailing going back to 1981.
   
   
5. I once wrote to Dick Rose to point out that there was a logical error in the wording of one of the US Sailing Prescriptions to the Racing Rules.
   
   
6. I've just looked up "anal-retentive" to see if it needs a hyphen.
   
   
7. I always leave one blank line at the end of every blog post. Never less than one. Never more than one. Just one. I have no idea why.
   

Romilly

Tillerwoman and I went for a walk this morning along the side of our river, the Sakonnet, and came across a boat for sale on a trailer on someone's front lawn. To be honest this is not an unusual sight in these uncertain economic times but this boat really caught my eye.

At first glance it looked like a classic wooden boat but on closer examination I realised it was constructed of GRP, but in a way that avoided that "plastic boat" look. And the spars that appeared to be wooden were really carbon fiber. Hmmm.

It was a Nigel Irens design, a Romilly. I'd never heard of it before. A 22 ft. lugger yawl. Cast iron centerboard. Small two-berth cuddy cabin. I guess you could call it a family day sailer but it would be a pretty cool family day sailer.



Hmmm. I envisaged sailing around the bay with family members. Hopping over to Jamestown or perhaps a longer trip around Buzzards Bay. Sleeping on the boat overnight would be like camping for sure but that would be half the fun.

As I examined the boat and dreamed of what I would do with a Romilly, Tillerwoman was making comments like, "The beds must be be very small," and, "It won't fit in the garage." She doesn't find boats very romantic, it seems...

I was tempted, very tempted. This would be a fine boat for taking grandchildren for sailing trips. The asking price was more or less equivalent to four new Lasers. But even so....

We carried on with our walk. I must resist the temptation. Repeat to self, "I am a Laser sailor. I am a Laser sailor. I am a Laser sailor."

Sakonnet River

Today, the last Sunday in September, is World Rivers Day.

Celebrate World Rivers Day and celebrate the greatest little river in the whole world, the Sakonnet River.



The Sakonnet River is only 14 miles long and, strictly speaking, it's not a river at all; it's a tidal strait. But all the modern maps and charts call it the Sakonnet River so I'm submitting it as my entry for World Rivers Day.

The Sakonnet is my river. It stretches from Mount Hope Bay (aka My Bay) in the north to where it meets the open ocean at Sakonnet Lighthouse on Rhode Island Sound. On the river's west side is Aquidneck Island, and on its east side are the mainland Rhode Island towns of Tiverton and Little Compton. It is the easternmost of the three north-south waterways that form the southern part of the Narragansett Bay system.

Of those three passages it is arguably the most beautiful, being bordered on both sides by some of the most rural scenery in Narragansett Bay. And, of the three, it is certainly the least crowded with hardly any commercial traffic, except for the occasional fishing boat, and usually only a handful of pleasure boats. For most of its length the river is between one and two miles wide. In the northern half of the river the water is usually flat, but near the mouth of the river in a southerly or southwesterly breeze there can be some long rolling waves that create perfect downwind surfing conditions. All in all, one of the best spots in the world for dinghy sailing.



US Sailing obviously agrees with me. The last US Olympic Trials for Lasers and Laser Radials were held near the mouth of the Sakonnet, launching from the nearby sheltered cove of Third Beach. This was also the site of one of my best regattas last year, Not Throwing in the Towel, and where Fat Boy and Little Man had some fun in awesome waves a few weeks later.



The middle section of the river is dominated by the peninsula of Fogland which sticks out from the eastern shore like a huge fist on a skinny arm. This provides two great options for small boat launching. Fogland Beach on the south side of the peninsula is a gently sloping pebble and sand beach perfect for launching a Laser off a dolly. But if the winds from the south are too stiff to make it tricky to launch from this side, then I just drive over to the rocky north side of Fogland where I can launch into a sheltered cove. Accounts of sailing both sides of Fogland can be found at Fogland Fartlek and David Atlas, J.S. Marshall, R.H. Douglas, Walter Palmer 79th Sail.



At the northern end of the Sakonnet River there is a narrower, busier section between the towns of Tiverton and Portsmouth with a large mooring field, several marinas, shops, cafes etc. The tides run faster here and there is none of the more rural atmosphere of the southern stretches. I don't bother with Laser sailing around here.

The river is steeped in history being the site of an historic amphibious invasion and the home of a famous queen. On its shores are three vineyards, and I can personally recommend Sakonnet Vineyards as a perfect spot for a picnic lunch on a summer Sunday. The rural lanes on the eastern shore are some of my favorite places around here for running and cycling.

The river is popular with windsurfers (especially at Fogland) and with kayakers. One of the most interesting spots for kayakers to explore is Seapowet Marsh just north of Fogland.

The river has two yacht clubs, Tiverton Yacht Club and the Sakonnet Yacht Club. They don't have much of the kind of sailing that interests me right now, but it's good to know that they are there if I want to try something different. There is even a Model Yacht Racing Club right at the north end of the river. I ran into them one day when I was out cycling and found a dozen or so old geezers like me racing RC Solings around some buoys. Looked like they were having a lot of fun.

There are also (at least) two blogs, not counting this one, about living the good life here on the shores of the Sakonnet. Sustainable Sakonnet has a focus on environmental issues and Sogkonnite Living is mainly about cooking our delicious local produce.

How's that for 14 miles? What other river has so much packed into such a short stretch?

Thanks to Captain JP for challenging us to blog about our favorite river for World Rivers Day.

Lighthouses on Saturday

On Monday, the day after my disastrous encounter with the Little Weed, I decided that a gentle walk would be good for my injured back. So Tillerwoman and I drove down to Little Compton and went for a walk along the beach at Sakonnet Point, the southernmost tip of this part of the Rhode Island mainland.

In the afternoon sunshine Sakonnet Lighthouse, several hundred yards offshore on Little Cormorant Rock, looked spectacular. Not only does Sakonnet Light have an interesting history, it even has its own poem...

The lighthouse, like a soldier dressed,
Looks out into the glowing west,
With shining helmet, coat of mail
By day, by night, he greets each sail,
And, Hail, Sakonnet! each replies
Across the waves, 'neath arching skies.
If on these rocks you did not stand,
Death signs would mark the peaceful strand.
So hail! bright beacon of the night,
Hail, aud thrice hail, Sakonnet Light!

The walk was good for my spirits... but did my back no good whatsoever.

Off With Her Head

As I was saying before I was interrupted by the weed incident, one of my favorite local runs is around Nanaquaket Pond. One of the reasons that I enjoy running so much is that it frees up the mind to wander in all sorts of directions. Hell, you have to think about something while you are pounding out the miles.

Running along Nanaquaket Neck, the narrow strip of land between Nanaquaket Pond and the Sakonnet River, always seems to trigger off some weird chain of thought for me. Must be all the ghosts...

In the mid-1600's most of this whole area was was heavily wooded, but on Nanaquaket Neck the local Native Americans, the Pocassets, had cleared the trees and were cultivating maize, beans and pumpkins and pasturing their cattle. The leader or sachem of the Pocassets was a woman, Queen Weetamoo.

Weetamoo might have led a untroubled life with her people here on the shores of the Sakonnet if it hadn't been for those dastardly English. Relations with the colonists had started off well enough. Massasoit, the native who participated in the first Thanksgiving feast with the Pilgrims, was in fact Weetamoo's father-in-law.

But those dastardly English messed things up, as usual. Having escaped England to find religious freedom in a new land, they immediately set out to impose their particular brand of religion on others. In some places, not too far from here, the native Americans were "encouraged" to renounce their native language, ceremonies, beliefs, traditional dress and customs and to effectively become "Red" Puritans living in so-called Praying Towns where they had to live by special "Rules of Conduct for the Praying Indians" which forbade such simple pleasures as a woman letting her hair hang loose or walking around with naked breasts. Those Massachusetts people are such killjoys!

Of course the dastardly English also wanted access to the best land, and Nanaquaket Neck with its fertile gardens and pastures must have been extremely tempting. Some English dude called Richard Morris apparently "bought" some parcels of land around here from the Indians during a downturn in the local real estate market and then (by the usual political machinations one assumes) managed to persaude the government of Plymouth Bay Colony to recognize him as the owner of all of Nanaquaket Neck by 1659.

Peaceful co-existence might still have been possible if it had not been for the unfortunate incident in 1662 when Weetamoo's husband Wamsutta went off to Plymouth to discuss some treaty issues with the dastardly English and then mysteriously died on the way home. The conspiracy theorists in the local population immediately assumed that Wamsutta had been poisoned by the dastardly English, and Weetamoo was naturally pretty ticked off about the whole situation. Apparently nobody thought to call in CSI to solve the case.

Wamsutta's brother, who went by the rather quaint name for an Indian of "King Philip", was pretty pissed off too and some years later things erupted into all-out war between the local natives and the dastardly English. King Philip secured naming rights for the war and, somewhat selfishly, decided to call it King Philip's War.

Weetamoo led a band of 300 warriors in King Philip's War and for a while things were going well for the home team. But then the dastardly English got their act together and started beating the natives by pioneering such counter-insurgency strategies as no-bid outsourcing to military contractors, bribing the opposition to change sides, and running up a huge tax deficit for future generations.

Weetamoo was drowned in the Taunton River in 1676 while trying to escape from the dastardly English. When her body washed ashore in Swansea they chopped off her head and displayed it on a pike in Taunton for a while. This was not as brutal as it sounds as it was fairly standard operating procedure in those days among the dastardly English to chop off the heads of kings and queens they didn't like, often while they were still alive...

Where was I? Where am I? What the hell is this story doing on a sailing blog?

Oh yes, I was running along the same ground where Weetamoo and her people grew their beans and pumpkins all those centuries ago. I thought you might be interested in the story. I mean, how many other small New England towns have their own headless queen?