Skunked! (Once! Twice! Thrice!)

Okay. Let's get this over ASAP. We I were was over early.

Nothing wrong with Trophy Wife's count-down. My mind was lost in the traffic on the starting line and I stopped listening to her, I guess. (Her complaint on shore, too!) At the last minute, I ducked down because I had a lot of water. But came back up. I figured that as long as I was further back than the Beneteau, we'de be okay. Trouble was he was OCS, too.

Second skipper mistake: we were missing Mastman who is usually in the companion way, listening for the all-clear call on the VHF. I forgot (!) to detail someone else to do that. We had completed one tack after the start before someone heard the race committee's hail that we had still not exonerated ourselves. Big mistake. The same with the Beneteau.

So we re-started behind another fleet and spent the evening sailing among other fleets. Plenty of opportunity for me to shed my competitive skin. In a steady 15 knot breeze, I elected to pleasure every one with a pleasant day sail around the course.

Everyone, except The Kid, had a leg at the helm. I had plenty of opportunity to photograph. Trouble was, there were none of our Fleet's boats within range!

Finished last. Great party at the bar.

Went home. Got the mail. And Doberwoman, who had scored her 3rd and 4th skunk kills (confirmed) this month got full-facedly skunked by one who got away. Completing a perfect, if negative, hat-trick for the day.