In the past, I've compared our Fleet's races as group day-sails around a boring trapezoidal patch of seawater. But today's routine was transformed by an unusual southerly direction of wind. We were confronted with an entirely new racing venue. The first leg was a spinnaker run, which about everyone overstood. The second leg was transformed from a beer drinking spinnaker reach into a most disorienting beat requiring much tacking at unfamiliar headings. Starboard tack was exciting, because we were hard on the wind with huge, deep rollers lifting our stern. That's always exhilarating! And then the last two legs were done under the chute. The crew work was beyond perfect. The boat performed as well as it could be expected in a mere 6-9 knots. The skipper? That old dog learns very slowly the new tricks life which life presents. It took him an agonizingly long time to get his bearings on that second leg. An unforgettable sail.