How old do you need to be before you can no longer sail a Laser? I hope I have a good few years left in me before I have to hang up my hiking boots. It was certainly inspiring to see some Great Grandmasters considerably older than me sailing in the Radial fleet at the Laser North Americans last week.
But some athletes never seem to know when to retire. Such as...
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Parental Guidance Suggested
Did you know that blogs can be rated, just like movies? Head over to mingle2 if you want to rate your blog. I was somewhat disappointed to discover that I only achieved a PG: PARENTAL GUIDANCE SUGGESTED. SOME MATERIAL MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.
Apparently I achieved this shocking score because the censors over at mingle2 discovered two occurrences of the word "hell" and one of the word "poop" somewhere in the blog. Bloody hell -- is that all the shit they could find? Yikes, I guess that makes it four and two of the above plus two other baddies. I'm probably up to PG-13 already.
Anyway I'm pretty sure that hell is mentioned in the Bible more than twice so I guess the mingle2 nannies wouldn't want children reading the Bible without parental guidance.
As for poop? Dear gentle souls at mingle2, don't you know that this is one of the first words that kids learn? It is a pretty essential word when you're only 18 months old and need to tell Mommy that you need your diaper changed.
Which gives me the perfect excuse to post this photo of Cutest Granddaughter In The World.
What is your blog rated?
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Are You Experienced?
It happens all the time at sailing regattas -- and it did happen last week at the Laser North Americans. The wind is blowing over 20 knots, maybe gusting to 30 or more, and the race committee decides to postpone racing, maybe even blow off the whole day.
Some of the sailors are frustrated because they live for days like this. They want to go sailing and blast around in the wind and waves and think they can handle it OK. Most of them are probably right.
Another group of sailors is secretly relieved. They would have gone out to race today but they know they would have struggled in these conditions. Maybe they would have capsized a dozen times and had to retire when they were too exhausted to climb on to the daggerboard one more time. For sure they would not have scored well.
And then there are the sailors who know they can't sail a Laser in 30 knots and would have had the good sense (at least in their own minds) not to sail today whatever the race committee chose to do.
The race committee knows that some of the sailors can handle these winds; but are more concerned about the others. It's a tough call as to whether to race or postpone. The decision depends on many factors: the size of the fleet, the number of safety boats, how large the course is, how far offshore the racing will be, etc. etc. It's one thing to run a regatta for 20 boats just off the beach; it's quite another thing to take 200 boats a couple of miles out to sea when it's blowing 30 knots.
Sure the Racing Rules of Sailing say that "the responsibility for a boat’s decision to participate in a race or to continue racing is hers alone." But if the PRO decides to take the fleet out today she just knows that there will be some sailors who come out to race who won't be able to handle the conditions. How many? What kind of trouble will they get themselves into? No matter that they've all signed a waiver form drafted by the finest legal minds in the club, no PRO wants to take a fleet out for a day's racing and end up with some sailors drowned or seriously injured. It is only a game after all.
At the North America Laser Class AGM last week, one sailor threw out an interesting suggestion to deal with this issue that might enable the good sailors to race on a day like this. How about having some kind of experience qualification that would allow the competent sailors to race on those heavy wind days when race committees are tempted to postpone in order to protect the weaker members of the fleet? Not a speed test, not who is the fastest sailor, but some way of identifying the ones that would not get themselves into (too much) trouble in 25-30 knots say.
Hmmm. The meeting received the suggestion with silence initially. We could all see the potential problems with such a plan. How could you construct such a test? Who would administer it? Would it be fair to the competitors who had travelled to the regatta but were now not qualified to race on one day of the event?
Someone mentioned that the Laser Heavy Air Slalom (of recent YouTube video fame) was an invitational event. They didn't invite anyone who couldn't sail a Laser well in heavy air. Someone else pointed out that, to an extent, sailors self-select; why would anyone even enter a regatta at a known heavy air venue if they knew they couldn't sail in the typical winds at the location?
The discussion meandered on to talk about problems at recent Laser Masters Worlds where a few "tourists" would decide "Hey - World Champs in Brazil - 30 knot winds expected - cool place to visit - no qualification to enter - I'm going - now what does a Laser look like?" (I don't think they were talking about me.) Apparently there has been some discussion at the international level of restricting entry to the Masters Worlds to masters who have achieved a certain level of achievement in other regattas. (Didn't like the sound of that. Would my one and only Atlantic Coast Grandmaster Champion title be enough to earn me entry to the Masters Worlds?)
As usual at such meetings nothing was decided. But I think the idea of an "experience test" to race on a heavy air day has some merit. I guess you'd have to announce in the Notice of Race that such a procedure would be used. Something like: "At the discretion of the race committee, any day of racing may be open only to those in possession of a current Laser Class Level 3 Fat Boy Heavy Air Nut Certificate" or words to that effect.
How would you earn such a rating? 10 points if you ever used a 3:1 vang and can supervang it by standing up and bouncing on the boom in 30 knots? 15 points if you finished any races in the 2007 Caribbean Midwinters? Bonus points for every pound you weigh over 220lbs? I dunno. I can see lots of problems with the idea but plenty of upside too. What do you think?
Some of the sailors are frustrated because they live for days like this. They want to go sailing and blast around in the wind and waves and think they can handle it OK. Most of them are probably right.
Another group of sailors is secretly relieved. They would have gone out to race today but they know they would have struggled in these conditions. Maybe they would have capsized a dozen times and had to retire when they were too exhausted to climb on to the daggerboard one more time. For sure they would not have scored well.
And then there are the sailors who know they can't sail a Laser in 30 knots and would have had the good sense (at least in their own minds) not to sail today whatever the race committee chose to do.
The race committee knows that some of the sailors can handle these winds; but are more concerned about the others. It's a tough call as to whether to race or postpone. The decision depends on many factors: the size of the fleet, the number of safety boats, how large the course is, how far offshore the racing will be, etc. etc. It's one thing to run a regatta for 20 boats just off the beach; it's quite another thing to take 200 boats a couple of miles out to sea when it's blowing 30 knots.
Sure the Racing Rules of Sailing say that "the responsibility for a boat’s decision to participate in a race or to continue racing is hers alone." But if the PRO decides to take the fleet out today she just knows that there will be some sailors who come out to race who won't be able to handle the conditions. How many? What kind of trouble will they get themselves into? No matter that they've all signed a waiver form drafted by the finest legal minds in the club, no PRO wants to take a fleet out for a day's racing and end up with some sailors drowned or seriously injured. It is only a game after all.
At the North America Laser Class AGM last week, one sailor threw out an interesting suggestion to deal with this issue that might enable the good sailors to race on a day like this. How about having some kind of experience qualification that would allow the competent sailors to race on those heavy wind days when race committees are tempted to postpone in order to protect the weaker members of the fleet? Not a speed test, not who is the fastest sailor, but some way of identifying the ones that would not get themselves into (too much) trouble in 25-30 knots say.
Hmmm. The meeting received the suggestion with silence initially. We could all see the potential problems with such a plan. How could you construct such a test? Who would administer it? Would it be fair to the competitors who had travelled to the regatta but were now not qualified to race on one day of the event?
Someone mentioned that the Laser Heavy Air Slalom (of recent YouTube video fame) was an invitational event. They didn't invite anyone who couldn't sail a Laser well in heavy air. Someone else pointed out that, to an extent, sailors self-select; why would anyone even enter a regatta at a known heavy air venue if they knew they couldn't sail in the typical winds at the location?
The discussion meandered on to talk about problems at recent Laser Masters Worlds where a few "tourists" would decide "Hey - World Champs in Brazil - 30 knot winds expected - cool place to visit - no qualification to enter - I'm going - now what does a Laser look like?" (I don't think they were talking about me.) Apparently there has been some discussion at the international level of restricting entry to the Masters Worlds to masters who have achieved a certain level of achievement in other regattas. (Didn't like the sound of that. Would my one and only Atlantic Coast Grandmaster Champion title be enough to earn me entry to the Masters Worlds?)
As usual at such meetings nothing was decided. But I think the idea of an "experience test" to race on a heavy air day has some merit. I guess you'd have to announce in the Notice of Race that such a procedure would be used. Something like: "At the discretion of the race committee, any day of racing may be open only to those in possession of a current Laser Class Level 3 Fat Boy Heavy Air Nut Certificate" or words to that effect.
How would you earn such a rating? 10 points if you ever used a 3:1 vang and can supervang it by standing up and bouncing on the boom in 30 knots? 15 points if you finished any races in the 2007 Caribbean Midwinters? Bonus points for every pound you weigh over 220lbs? I dunno. I can see lots of problems with the idea but plenty of upside too. What do you think?
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Mommy Boats
It seems to me that at every major Laser regatta these days the race course is infested with Mommy Boats. Little and big motor boats buzzing in and out of the fleet of Lasers between every race, swarming around the course area during the race.
To be fair it's more often Daddy than Mommy driving the Mommy Boat. Daddy likes to drive the Mommy Boat, especially if it has twin 60hp engines. And even more commonly it's not Daddy or Mommy driving the Mommy boat, it's a guy (or gal) who goes by the name of Coach who is paid by Mommy and Daddy to drive the Mommy Boat. He gets paid even more if he has a New Zealand accent.
Oh yes, Coach is an excellent sailor. He was competitive in the class himself back in the day. But now he earns his living working as a sailing coach. And part of the duties is driving the Mommy Boat at regattas. Back home Coach teaches the kids how to sail better. He runs lots of drills and blows a whistle incessantly. But at regattas Coach is really just a surrogate Mommy and he gets to drive the Mommy Boat.
So if you're sailing in the regatta and you have a Mommy Boat what does it do for you?
Well, first of all it might tow you out to the course, just like Mommy used to drive you to school even though you only lived half a mile from school. God forbid that you might have to walk or bike to school yourself, or actually sail your Laser out to the racecourse like all the other competitors. You might get tired. Then of course the Mommy Boat will tow you home again at the end of the day.
Also, the Mommy Boat might carry some spare sailing clothes for you. Remember how Mommy always made sure that you had a warm coat in the winter or a waterproof if it might rain? The Mommy Boat will do just the same for you.
And the Mommy Boat will carry your lunch and your drinks. Good old Mommy was always there when you needed a cookie or a drink of warm milk wasn't she? So is the Mommy Boat.
And if you have a bad experience on the race course -- maybe you got black flagged or were OCS -- then Coach will provide you with moral support. Just like Mommy used to wipe away your tears if you got beat up by one of the big boys at school or fell over and grazed your knee in the playground.
So doesn't Coach actually do any coaching at a regatta? I guess so. Sail to the Mommy Boat between races and maybe Coach will remind you of what time the tide turns or what he thinks the wind is going to do. Just like Mommy was always there to wipe your nose or help you with your homework. Good old Mommy.
The Mommy Boat of course is just part of the trend in which modern parents structure the recreational activities of their kids. The kids don't go and play stick ball in the street; they are signed up for Little League. They don't kick a ball around on a local field; they have a soccer coach. Sailing is just going the same way. "Whatever happened to fun?" one veteran Laser sailor asked me at the weekend after hearing that Coach had told one of the kids to run ten laps after racing.
It wasn't always this way. When I used to take my kids to Optimist regattas I'd push them off the shore and then watch the races from the beach if practical or, if not, go and read a magazine in the clubhouse. Let 'em cope by themselves on the racecourse. Sailing taught self-reliance. Toughens 'em up. Nowadays sailing teaches that the Mommy Boat is always there for you.
And of course Mommy is always there these days. My son tells me that parents sometimes even show up at the initial screening interview when Junior is applying for her first job after college. Yikes.
But wait, I hear you say. The Coach Boat (as you call it) provides a valuable service. It helps a competitor to have the physical, moral and logistical support that Coach provides. If nothing else it's much better to dump all the spare clothing, food and drinks on the Coach Boat than carry all that extra weight on your Laser while racing.
And of course, you are right. The Mommy Boats do give an advantage to the competitors that have them. But what about the rest of us? After paying several hundred dollars for regatta entry fees, travel, hotel, food (not to mention that new sail that I should have bought too) do I also need to pay someone to drive a Mommy Boat for me? Where is this heading? Will we see the day when all 200+ sailors at the Laser North Americans have Mommy Boats?
I say ban the Mommy Boats. Let's get back to the good old days when the only motor boats on the course were race committee and safety boats. I'm going to start a movement. Dads Against Mommy Boats. DAMB. Sign up here.
To be fair it's more often Daddy than Mommy driving the Mommy Boat. Daddy likes to drive the Mommy Boat, especially if it has twin 60hp engines. And even more commonly it's not Daddy or Mommy driving the Mommy boat, it's a guy (or gal) who goes by the name of Coach who is paid by Mommy and Daddy to drive the Mommy Boat. He gets paid even more if he has a New Zealand accent.
Oh yes, Coach is an excellent sailor. He was competitive in the class himself back in the day. But now he earns his living working as a sailing coach. And part of the duties is driving the Mommy Boat at regattas. Back home Coach teaches the kids how to sail better. He runs lots of drills and blows a whistle incessantly. But at regattas Coach is really just a surrogate Mommy and he gets to drive the Mommy Boat.
So if you're sailing in the regatta and you have a Mommy Boat what does it do for you?
Well, first of all it might tow you out to the course, just like Mommy used to drive you to school even though you only lived half a mile from school. God forbid that you might have to walk or bike to school yourself, or actually sail your Laser out to the racecourse like all the other competitors. You might get tired. Then of course the Mommy Boat will tow you home again at the end of the day.
Also, the Mommy Boat might carry some spare sailing clothes for you. Remember how Mommy always made sure that you had a warm coat in the winter or a waterproof if it might rain? The Mommy Boat will do just the same for you.
And the Mommy Boat will carry your lunch and your drinks. Good old Mommy was always there when you needed a cookie or a drink of warm milk wasn't she? So is the Mommy Boat.
And if you have a bad experience on the race course -- maybe you got black flagged or were OCS -- then Coach will provide you with moral support. Just like Mommy used to wipe away your tears if you got beat up by one of the big boys at school or fell over and grazed your knee in the playground.
So doesn't Coach actually do any coaching at a regatta? I guess so. Sail to the Mommy Boat between races and maybe Coach will remind you of what time the tide turns or what he thinks the wind is going to do. Just like Mommy was always there to wipe your nose or help you with your homework. Good old Mommy.
The Mommy Boat of course is just part of the trend in which modern parents structure the recreational activities of their kids. The kids don't go and play stick ball in the street; they are signed up for Little League. They don't kick a ball around on a local field; they have a soccer coach. Sailing is just going the same way. "Whatever happened to fun?" one veteran Laser sailor asked me at the weekend after hearing that Coach had told one of the kids to run ten laps after racing.
It wasn't always this way. When I used to take my kids to Optimist regattas I'd push them off the shore and then watch the races from the beach if practical or, if not, go and read a magazine in the clubhouse. Let 'em cope by themselves on the racecourse. Sailing taught self-reliance. Toughens 'em up. Nowadays sailing teaches that the Mommy Boat is always there for you.
And of course Mommy is always there these days. My son tells me that parents sometimes even show up at the initial screening interview when Junior is applying for her first job after college. Yikes.
But wait, I hear you say. The Coach Boat (as you call it) provides a valuable service. It helps a competitor to have the physical, moral and logistical support that Coach provides. If nothing else it's much better to dump all the spare clothing, food and drinks on the Coach Boat than carry all that extra weight on your Laser while racing.
And of course, you are right. The Mommy Boats do give an advantage to the competitors that have them. But what about the rest of us? After paying several hundred dollars for regatta entry fees, travel, hotel, food (not to mention that new sail that I should have bought too) do I also need to pay someone to drive a Mommy Boat for me? Where is this heading? Will we see the day when all 200+ sailors at the Laser North Americans have Mommy Boats?
I say ban the Mommy Boats. Let's get back to the good old days when the only motor boats on the course were race committee and safety boats. I'm going to start a movement. Dads Against Mommy Boats. DAMB. Sign up here.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Humiliation
On the one hand I achieved all my objectives at the Laser North Americans.
On the other hand I sailed my worst regatta ever.
How come?
Well the objectives weren't exactly that hard to achieve...
1 (and 10). Have fun. Sure. How could I not have fun? Three days of Laser racing in all sorts of wind conditions with some of the best sailors on the continent. Superb race management (apart from that scoring fiasco but that's a story for another post). Excellent hospitality and food at Hyannis YC. Good friends to hang out with on the beach. Sure it was fun.
2 and 3. Stretch and hydrate. Wow, Laser sailing makes you tired and sore. But at least I remembered to ease the pain somewhat by drinking lots of water and stretching before and after racing.
4 and 5. Start and finish every race. Check. Triumph of persistence and stupidity over common sense but I've always felt that even if I can't sail well at least I can keep sailing badly.
6. Pass that boat in front. Yes, I made some smart tactical and strategic choices and did pass some boats sometimes in some races. I still know how to sniff out a new wind coming in from one side of the course and get over there before at least some of the opposition. I still know how to time an inside overlap at the leeward mark just before the two boat length zone. I still know when the tide will cause a pile-up at the windward mark and so overstand a bit and sail over all the mayhem.
7. Work hard enough to be completely exhausted every night. Oh yes. Three long days on the water. At least six hours of sailing a day. Long sails out to the course and back. Working on aspects of technique when sailing to and from the course. Hanging it all out in each race. Oh yes. I was exhausted every night. I still am.
8. Meet up with some old friends and make some new ones. Sure. Good to renew some old acquaintances. Pump some of the guys I knew from New England about the sailing scene up here. Meet some new people including one of the legends of the class... bought a boat in 1971 the first year the Laser came out... champion in the 80s... sailed another class but now coming back to the Laser only. But that's a story for another post too.
9. Learn some lessons. Maybe. On the long sails to and from the race course I was able to experiment with some things and learn some things about my style and mistakes and how to correct them. But as for the races themselves? See below.
So why the Humiliation poster?
Well I achieved my objectives for my first major regatta this year. But I did set the bar pretty low. I was just looking at it as a practice session and a way to kick off the summer season. But I can't totally ignore my results...
I had the unique distinction of posting the worst score in the regatta among sailors who finished very race. The only people behind me were those sailors who scored at least one DNS or DNC or DNF. Pretty dismal, eh? I wasn't last in any race but I was always among the tailenders. Sure we had fun tussling about who would come 4th or 5th from last. But I still ended up with the worst score of people who sailed every race. At some regattas they give a special award to the sailor who ends up in that position. They call it the "Spirit" or "Persistence" Award. No thanks. I didn't even stay around for the awards ceremony.
So what was wrong? Well, basically my boatspeed was slow, slow, slow on just about every point of sail in every wind condition. After the windy day on Friday I thought maybe I was just out of practice in heavy wind and waves. But Saturday was only 10-12 knots and Sunday was even lighter with relatively flat water. But even so, people were just sailing away from me upwind and downwind.
I have only two possible explanations...
Theory #1. I'm getting too old for this game. It's time to sell my Laser and take up something easier like cave diving or paragliding.
Theory #2. I need a new sail.
On balance I'm leaning towards theory #2.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Awesome
Superb day on Nantucket Sound today at the Laser North Americans. 15-20 knots of breeze out of the north and plenty of waves. As expected, my first day back at Laser racing was a humbling experience. My lack of fitness was exposed and I seemed to have forgotten what little I knew about how to sail the boat in waves.
But it was terrific to be out on the water again. I'd forgotten how much fun these little plastic boats can be.
On the positive side also...
1. I didn't capsize. (At least not in a race).
2. I did finish all three races.
3. I wasn't last in any race.
4. I did pass some boats.
5. I did beat a former Laser North American Champion in one race. Well actually a very former Laser North American Champion. The 1980 champion. But hey, I'm an oldie too.
As for my other objectives, I did manage to "work hard enough to be completely exhausted", actually probably a bit too hard. And I did manage to identify many areas in which I need to improve; but I'm way too shattered to blog about them tonight.
When I was recovering from the day back at my hotel earlier this evening, my son called and put my 18-month-old granddaughter on the line. Apparently she had learned a new word today.
"Say hello to grandad," he told her. (She never speaks on the phone.)
I heard her little voice saying, "Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome."
Quite right Emily. It was an awesome day.
But it was terrific to be out on the water again. I'd forgotten how much fun these little plastic boats can be.
On the positive side also...
1. I didn't capsize. (At least not in a race).
2. I did finish all three races.
3. I wasn't last in any race.
4. I did pass some boats.
5. I did beat a former Laser North American Champion in one race. Well actually a very former Laser North American Champion. The 1980 champion. But hey, I'm an oldie too.
As for my other objectives, I did manage to "work hard enough to be completely exhausted", actually probably a bit too hard. And I did manage to identify many areas in which I need to improve; but I'm way too shattered to blog about them tonight.
When I was recovering from the day back at my hotel earlier this evening, my son called and put my 18-month-old granddaughter on the line. Apparently she had learned a new word today.
"Say hello to grandad," he told her. (She never speaks on the phone.)
I heard her little voice saying, "Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome."
Quite right Emily. It was an awesome day.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Waiting Game
Arrive at the yacht club around 7:30 am. Weather is cold and gray with a moderate wind. Check out noticeboard for any new announcements. Rig boat. Wind increases. Swathe body in several layers of neoprene, hiking pants, spray top, hat, hiking boots, racing watch, gloves, etc. etc. Just finish dressing as RC signals postponement. Sailor who has talked to the PRO says that a gust out on the racecourse was measured at 34 knots.
De-rig boat. Take mast out of boat and lower sail. Wonder how long the postponement will be and whether it is worth removing the multiple layers of neoprene etc. etc. Listen to weather forecast on weather band radio in car. (Thanks Subaru.) Forecast is for 15-20 knots gusting to 30 all day. Decide to change back into more comfortable clothes.
Wander around the club and meet up with some sailors from my old club. Have discussion about what to wear for Laser sailing on an unseasonably cold day in June. Have fruitless discussion about what we think the weather is going to do. Wander around some more. Meet a guy I know who just won a major championship in another class. Congratulate him and listen politely as he tries to recruit me to the other class. Check out the breakfast buffet at the club and wonder if it's worth buying a second breakfast. Decide not to.
Listen to the weather forecast again. Read the newspaper. Phone my wife. Drink some water. Walk around the club again and meet up with a couple of guys I know from the masters circuit. Have fruitless discussion about what they think the weather is going to do. Wander around the club again. Drink more water. Look at the weather which hasn't changed.
Decide to go for a walk along the beach. When I'm about five minutes from the club, a gun goes off and the Come Within Hail flag is raised at the club. Return to club. RC has announced that the postponement will last until 12:45 at which time another announcement will be made. Drive into town to buy a sandwich for lunch. Return to club. Eat sandwich. Phone wife. Chat to another sailor and have fruitless discussion about what the weather is going to do.
Sun comes out. Look like the wind is dropping a little. Have fruitless discussion with another sailor about whether I am right or not. Check wind speed with nifty little device one of my sons bought me for Xmas. Coach for some team of kids comes over and does the same. We're both seeing about 15 knots with 25 knots in the gusts. Member of race committee strolls by and tells us it is still gusting 35 on the racecourse. Coach and RC member have fruitless discussion about whether the fleet is competent to sail in these conditions.
RC fires gun. RC posts notice saying that the postponement will hold until 2pm when another announcement will be made. Go for a longer walk on the beach over to the channel out to the open sea. See nice waves out there. Walk back to club. Hang out. Chat to other sailors about stuff. Phone wife. Drink some water. Watch flagpole at 2pm as RC signals that all racing is postponed until tomorrow. De-rig boat and pack it up for the night. Have fruitless discussion with fellow sailor about which of two weather forecasts for tomorrow is correct.
So that was it. No racing on the first day of the 2007 Laser North Americans.
As Peter Isler said when interviewed on Versus during one of the Louis Vuitton Cup postponements, this waiting is part of the sport and sailors are used to it, so we just have to remain patient and stay cool. Tomorrow is another day.
De-rig boat. Take mast out of boat and lower sail. Wonder how long the postponement will be and whether it is worth removing the multiple layers of neoprene etc. etc. Listen to weather forecast on weather band radio in car. (Thanks Subaru.) Forecast is for 15-20 knots gusting to 30 all day. Decide to change back into more comfortable clothes.
Wander around the club and meet up with some sailors from my old club. Have discussion about what to wear for Laser sailing on an unseasonably cold day in June. Have fruitless discussion about what we think the weather is going to do. Wander around some more. Meet a guy I know who just won a major championship in another class. Congratulate him and listen politely as he tries to recruit me to the other class. Check out the breakfast buffet at the club and wonder if it's worth buying a second breakfast. Decide not to.
Listen to the weather forecast again. Read the newspaper. Phone my wife. Drink some water. Walk around the club again and meet up with a couple of guys I know from the masters circuit. Have fruitless discussion about what they think the weather is going to do. Wander around the club again. Drink more water. Look at the weather which hasn't changed.
Decide to go for a walk along the beach. When I'm about five minutes from the club, a gun goes off and the Come Within Hail flag is raised at the club. Return to club. RC has announced that the postponement will last until 12:45 at which time another announcement will be made. Drive into town to buy a sandwich for lunch. Return to club. Eat sandwich. Phone wife. Chat to another sailor and have fruitless discussion about what the weather is going to do.
Sun comes out. Look like the wind is dropping a little. Have fruitless discussion with another sailor about whether I am right or not. Check wind speed with nifty little device one of my sons bought me for Xmas. Coach for some team of kids comes over and does the same. We're both seeing about 15 knots with 25 knots in the gusts. Member of race committee strolls by and tells us it is still gusting 35 on the racecourse. Coach and RC member have fruitless discussion about whether the fleet is competent to sail in these conditions.
RC fires gun. RC posts notice saying that the postponement will hold until 2pm when another announcement will be made. Go for a longer walk on the beach over to the channel out to the open sea. See nice waves out there. Walk back to club. Hang out. Chat to other sailors about stuff. Phone wife. Drink some water. Watch flagpole at 2pm as RC signals that all racing is postponed until tomorrow. De-rig boat and pack it up for the night. Have fruitless discussion with fellow sailor about which of two weather forecasts for tomorrow is correct.
So that was it. No racing on the first day of the 2007 Laser North Americans.
As Peter Isler said when interviewed on Versus during one of the Louis Vuitton Cup postponements, this waiting is part of the sport and sailors are used to it, so we just have to remain patient and stay cool. Tomorrow is another day.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Laser North Americans
Today I drove over to Cape Cod to sail in the Laser North American Championships which run out of Hyannis YC for the next four days. This is a totally ridiculous idea for multiple reasons...
1. I have never sailed in a Laser NAs before.
2. I have no business trying to compete against some of the best Laser sailors on the continent.
3. I have no business trying to compete against fit young guys less than half my age.
4. My boat is old.
5. My sail is tired.
6. I've hardly sailed since the week in the Dominican Republic in January and am totally out of practice.
7. I'm totally out of shape.
So what am I thinking?
Good question. I guess I'm thinking that if I'm going to get back into Laser sailing after the hiatus during our house move I might as well start with this regatta as any other. What the hell? It's not too far to travel and it's happening now. At least I can go out and sail on the ocean, work off some of the inevitable rust in my technique, and have four days of intensive practice.
So what are my objectives for the weekend?
Hmmm. Another good question. Let's see...
1. Have fun.
2. Stretch.
3. Hydrate.
4. Start every race.
5. Finish every race.
6. Pass that boat in front.
7. Work hard enough to be completely exhausted every night.
8. Meet up with some old friends and make some new friends.
9. Learn some lessons, mull over some mistakes, identify where I need to improve... and who knows, maybe even blog about some blunders.
10. Have fun.
1. I have never sailed in a Laser NAs before.
2. I have no business trying to compete against some of the best Laser sailors on the continent.
3. I have no business trying to compete against fit young guys less than half my age.
4. My boat is old.
5. My sail is tired.
6. I've hardly sailed since the week in the Dominican Republic in January and am totally out of practice.
7. I'm totally out of shape.
So what am I thinking?
Good question. I guess I'm thinking that if I'm going to get back into Laser sailing after the hiatus during our house move I might as well start with this regatta as any other. What the hell? It's not too far to travel and it's happening now. At least I can go out and sail on the ocean, work off some of the inevitable rust in my technique, and have four days of intensive practice.
So what are my objectives for the weekend?
Hmmm. Another good question. Let's see...
1. Have fun.
2. Stretch.
3. Hydrate.
4. Start every race.
5. Finish every race.
6. Pass that boat in front.
7. Work hard enough to be completely exhausted every night.
8. Meet up with some old friends and make some new friends.
9. Learn some lessons, mull over some mistakes, identify where I need to improve... and who knows, maybe even blog about some blunders.
10. Have fun.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Ten Thousand Sunsets
Carol Anne -- and the anonymous post-modernist expletive-deleted commenter to my previous post -- want pictures. So here is a photo taken from the deck of our house one evening last week.
I think we're all set now. I see no reason ever to move again. (Assuming I fulfill the objective defined in the byline to this blog and manage to cheat the nursing home.)
Over a third of a century ago I met a fascinating young woman who, for reasons that are still a mystery to me, accepted my invitation to spend the rest of our lives together. She's still here... for reasons that are even more puzzling to me. So right now I can think of nothing more I want to do than to share the next ten thousand sunsets (or so) with her.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Improper Course
Don't you just hate those people who abandon their blogs for several weeks or months, and who then resume posting with some pathetic story full of excuses for their absence such as I lost my job/ the job's a bitch/ my wife left me/ my wife is too demanding/ the dog died/ the dog ate all my notes/ I've just got back from a month taking photos of villas in the Med/ or some similar tale of woe?
So I'm not going to fall into that trap by boring you with a tale of how I've been too busy moving into a new house and dealing with all the hassles of lawyers/banks/movers/cable guys/phone guys, and helping Tillerwoman buy all the new furniture/kitchen appliances/rugs/lamps/garden equipment/ etc./ etc. that we apparently need now we have a smaller house. Because that would be too too tedious and would only be part of the truth.
Nor will I tell you how much we love our new house and how just hanging out here, and admiring the scenery, and watching sailboats as we eat our dinner, and enjoying the sunsets has induced such a feeling of relaxed satisfaction that blogging has been the furthest thing from my mind. Because I know that's of no interest to my remaining three readers and is only a partial explanation for my absence anyway.
And I'm certainly not going to tell you that living in this gorgeous corner of Rhode Island is like being on vacation every day and that I'm so chilled out that I haven't even sailed my Laser since we moved because that would sound totally lame and would not fit at all with the image I've projected in this blog of being a die-hard Laser sailor who sails in rain, hail, ice, hurricane and snow. You would think I'm getting old or soft or both and would ask me why the hell I moved to live by the sea if I'm not going to go sailing soon?
So I'm just going to leave you guessing as to why this blog has been silent for three weeks. But I am back. And there is some sailing about to happen. Stay tuned.
So I'm not going to fall into that trap by boring you with a tale of how I've been too busy moving into a new house and dealing with all the hassles of lawyers/banks/movers/cable guys/phone guys, and helping Tillerwoman buy all the new furniture/kitchen appliances/rugs/lamps/garden equipment/ etc./ etc. that we apparently need now we have a smaller house. Because that would be too too tedious and would only be part of the truth.
Nor will I tell you how much we love our new house and how just hanging out here, and admiring the scenery, and watching sailboats as we eat our dinner, and enjoying the sunsets has induced such a feeling of relaxed satisfaction that blogging has been the furthest thing from my mind. Because I know that's of no interest to my remaining three readers and is only a partial explanation for my absence anyway.
And I'm certainly not going to tell you that living in this gorgeous corner of Rhode Island is like being on vacation every day and that I'm so chilled out that I haven't even sailed my Laser since we moved because that would sound totally lame and would not fit at all with the image I've projected in this blog of being a die-hard Laser sailor who sails in rain, hail, ice, hurricane and snow. You would think I'm getting old or soft or both and would ask me why the hell I moved to live by the sea if I'm not going to go sailing soon?
So I'm just going to leave you guessing as to why this blog has been silent for three weeks. But I am back. And there is some sailing about to happen. Stay tuned.
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