After a perfectly traumatic morning at Virtual Regatta and brain-numbing day at work, I arrived at the harbor looking for any sort of salvation. As soon as I got out of my beat-up Acura, I received a buoyant sign and immediately reached for my camera. Here on the protective berm of the parking lot was this magnificent creature. He was at peace between the pounding of the surf and the parking of cars. This canine needed no stinkin' leash; his minders were off camera range in their jeep, yacking away on separate cells. As soon as I had captured his likeness on digital film, I knew my day had turned for the good.
Our midweek race was sailed in under five knot breeze overlaid with a challenging set of cross-wind rollers and a rare up-coast current. In these conditions, the race committee expected us to complete its four dog-legged course before sunset.
Got off to a perfect start in our heavy displacement performance cruiser with my hard core crew aboard. The three mark-roundings were characterized by rightaway howling and nail-biting that usually accompanies drifters sailed in chop. In the end, the team muscled our tonnage through to finish squarely in the middle of 20+ pack of boats.
That was entirely satisfying to me. After paying my respects in the bar, I returned to the parking lot three hours after I had left it. Refreshed. My day had been saved. But this magnificent creature had departed.