After Tuesday, Even the Calendar Says, "W T F"

Promises, promises, promises....

Das Boot has her prop back from MarTec and her second coat of bottom paint. She is going to splash today, mid-day. Diesel Guy has to then fine-tune the alignment of her shaft. Because, as I have learned, the hull changes shape once it's in the water. So maybe the newly re-tooled engine mounts have to be micro-adjusted for that.

The first twilight beer can is tomorrow. I have two key members of my previous crew (they are pure gold) plus Trophy Wife (who's platinum). I've got a new recruit off the Club's classifieds: a  Frenchman. His plus is that he is a Ph D, so he parlez anglais. The negatives are he is leaving for the right-wing coast in June. Okay. At this stage I'll settle for a temp.

But I'm still looking for a knowledgeable mainsheet trimmer to anchor the rear guard. Maybe that'll end up to  be me, if weather permits Trophy Wife to drive at the Leeward pin.

I don't like the thin margin. If any of the above-mentioned pieces don't fall into place, I might have to scrub. Diesel Guy has to touch and give his blessing to the fooking engine or I'll be worrying about losing everything I have paid $,$$$ for in the yard.

Whatever. Sometimes, to quote Tom Cruise, you just have to say, "W. T. F."

Boston

You fricking rawk!

A Lido 50th Birthday

Last weekend we celebrated my MD Son's (oldest) 50th birthday. It was an all day and overnight event featuring a 10K bike ride, a Lido 14 boat race inside Long Beach's break water and a spectacular party. MD Son has his own Lido and arranged for five others so his three brothers and additional friends could race with him. Thankfully, Trophy Wife and I arrived too late for the bike ride, just in time to catch the fleet's return on film. . . . .

. . . and in plenty of time for a spectacular party (Lots of beautiful people)!

But the point of all of this is that Lido's are an instrumental part of my family's history. We didn't understand the importance of the event at the time, but it was kinda Trophy Wife's and my first date: a day sail, something like 44+ years ago, in Newport Beach. MD Son and TW's son were aboard.

Life is like that. In living everyday, we are not aware of epic, iconic moments until much later.

2013 Full Monty

There's no need to explain the title, except to say there's no baring of one's ass involved in this race.

Today was 6th running of a Race which I conceived and for which Trophy Wife and I commissioned a trophy . It's a 16.5 nm race. 95% of the times it's a windward-leeward up & down the coast race. Usually, it's a light wind nightmare for Das Boot. The miraculous year we won it and our own trophy, it was a building leeward-windward race.

This year, it reverted to form.  Unfortunately the Race Committee did not put much credence in the forecast of light wind (7 knots max) nor did it heed my recommendation to shorten the course at the start. Consequently, 13 boats soon disappeared from each other in the gloaming.

Without Das Boot, I stationed myself midway up the course overlooking Hendrys Beach, where the turnaround would have  been for the shortened course. Instead of seeing the entire fleet as I anticipated, I could make out only four or five boats.

LOA figured large. The J-145 ultimately finished 1st and an hour or so lbefore the Beneteau 40.7. An hour later (it seemed) some J-70's finished. The remainder of the fleet was semi-visible on the horizon.

Many times the Race Committee abandoned their post in favor of the bar and the Masters Golf on teevee.

With the prospect that some boats would not finish by sundown, Doberwoman and I finally abandoned our vigil in favor of the Dodger game taped at home. This was a good race to have ducked.

I have the contented feeling of a victory. Of sorts.

Not Fun: Watching a Yacht Race from Shore

And without a good telephoto, you can't get good pictures either. All you get is a little more exercise and a little more canine company than you would usually get on a Wednesday afternoon.

In retrospect, it was either a bad idea or a very bad idea to put Das Boot on the market. Her diesel was working perfectly, until a couple of surveyors got their hands on it. Then they sicked a Diesel Guy on to her and there's been no end of diagnostics and prognostics as a result. Proctology and colorectal surgery. Seemingly endless.

Previously everything was working perfectly. Now she's on the hard and I'm missing races left and right.

Tillerman ("Die on your Laser") and my friend Dave ("This is a beautiful day") are right. My response to noticing my ageing process should have been to assign my eventual survivors the task of selling my boat. My response to all of them -- surveyors, brokers and mechanics alike -- should have been to paraphrase Charlton Heston: you can have Das Boot when you pry my cold dead hands from her wheel.

Well, patience. I'm not a 2nd Amendment kind of guy. I'm going to chill. Eventually, I will sell her. And I will sail her until I do.

Captions Please

Sailing With Bob

Wind came up to 15 knots just as people were getting to the harbor. I was happy to be among them as guest skipper on Bob Marley's boat.

As I have said before, this C&C is too complicated and physical for this old sailor. So I was just looking for something solid to hold on to for an hour or so.
Nothing like a wheel, hey?

Got a reasonable good start with 110 up. Fourth around the weather mark and we were holding our own down the next leg. The lads popped Bob Marley out of the sock and things got exciting. At the pin, Bob took over on the gibe. Marley blew off the topping lift to his pole and took our C&C way off course, sort of DDW. By the time Bob was put to bed, back in his sock, we were able to round the leeward mark in front of the second half of the fleet.

All I can say was it was fun going to weather. If we had gone with the 150 for the whole race, we must have done better. Don't have any idea how we corrected out. The marine layer rolled in as the racing ended and it got cold. My legs were cramped totally. I slammed some brewskies while we recovered the topping lift. Couldn't last long enough in the bar until the results were posted.

Happy Easter Everyone!

This morning, I sent out the above cartoon as sort of my Easter Greeting to some of my knowing friends.

Not until tonight did I note the asterisk. I had to follow it to a link.

As soon as I read the 'target' passage, I knew I had to post on this story.

Because it is in my blood never to pass up an opportunity to say something positive accurate about my lamentable home town in a public forum.

Work Boats

I'm not talking tug, dive, excursion or fishing boats. 

Instead, I'm talking boats which are intimately connected with whatever work we do. Like boats we own which are proverbial holes in the water into which we pour dollar$ require us to work longer hours, limiting hours we could otherwise spend on the water. Or boats which we don't own but just lust after owning, while we are spending long hours in the office.

Most especially the latter.

Every morning, at first light, as I roll out of the port side of the bed, I'm thinking I am having one more of those OPB Days. Other People's Boats. At that hour of the day I'm just so thankful of the prospect of having another day in an upright and vertical position, that I am  not adding aspirations to actually own boat(s) any longer. The nice thing about sailing OPB is the slip fees go away, along with the need to postpone retirement. Sailing OPB, I can learn more about sailing and racing than I can learn on Das Boot. (Who's taught me tons!) That's not only because of the different characteristics of an unfamiliar yacht, but also I can benefit from learning from different skilled crews. Sailing OPB comes out on top because of its cost-benefit ratio alone.

But even then, with my first cup of java, I understand that the OPB day will morph into a different kind of day as the hours drift by. The images pass by my eyes like inevitable way points as I make my passage through the day. First, usually, comes the prospect of MSB (My Son's Boat). Should I borrow his 20-foot keel racer for two years of one-design racing? Lots to learn from the bottom of the fleet there! I'd really have to go back to school in this daydream. And opportunities would abound to go for those magical light wind morning practice sails I've always said I've wanted to do.

The sequence of the day's waypoints vary. Some days the prospect of an Alerion-28 sails by my mid-morning desk. How nice it would be to have such a 'social' and graceful racer grace my slip! I could actually race with novices and not worry about their comfort as I introduced them to my sport and passion. On my Alerion, Trophy Wife and even Doberwoman could accompany me in evening cocktail sails. Oh yes!

Ultimately, my bucket boat shows up right around lunch with a question: am I still young enough to sail a Wyliecat-30? On the Central Coast? There's Wyliecat for sale in the Bay area by an owner who's a year younger than I. But that's in San Francisco. Around the bouys in my waters? It could be a dreamboat. But it's very pricey!

By the time I'm packing up to go home, an old friend arrives at my desk. Das Boot. The boat I have and know. Semper Fi. And can afford. Somewhat. As soon as Diesel Guy gets through, Das Boot and I can grow another crew together. That will be excitement enough for this ol' man!

I Have Three Women in My Life

Doberwoman makes no secret as to how she feels about Das Boot. Bad enough that she has to play second fiddle to Trophy Wife, but to play 3rd fiddle to a hunk of fiberglass floating the water must be next to intolerable. Recently, any time I take #3 down to the harbor to check on #2, she refuses to come aboard. But Doberwoman is making the most of the present situation, demanding outings as in many venues as possible. This weekend the two of us hit all the local spots in Nature's great cathedral.

While Doberwoman was swimming her laps in the harbor, my fleet was enjoying a rather long-ish race on the other side of the breakwater. We followed the swimming by walking down to Das Boot to check on the de-humidifier, and encountered Diesel Guy installing new fuel injectors. That was a plus. Progress!

After the race, I hung out a little with the guys just for one beer. It was fun with 'the lads' swapping lies and even telling some of my own. But I wasn't out there with them and felt too much like a want-a-be camp follower to hang out any more.

But I missed it. A steady 8-9 knots wasn't exactly a great day for Das Boot, performance-wise. Still, doesn't it beat being ashore? But it would have been a great Wyliecat-30 day. There: I said it!

Crewing for Bob Marley

The only thing day-sailing today accomplished was to make me miss Das Boot even more. Playing mainsheet trimmer was a fun role only because I deeply heart everyone one on this emerging team. But a C&C does not represent the direction in which this old man needs to go. Got to light a fire under the diesel guy to get my project back one line: sailing and/or selling. Enough of this dragging at anchor!

This One Is Not a Novel

A local sailor with whom I have competed on the starting line as well as in table tennis tournaments found himself in this quartet. As reported by FeckTV on 9 February:

Four Irish sailors have had a lucky escape after being rescued from their sinking yacht off the coast of Bermuda. Their trip of a lifetime turned into a nightmare when the yacht lost battery power and suffered a mechanical failure, stranding it 400 miles off the Delaware coast as weather conditions became more dangerous.

The four men were all experience sailors and left the Connecticut two weeks ago aboard ‘Wolfhound’ a 48ft yacht skippered by Alan McGettigan, a member of the Royal Irish Yacht Club in Dun Laoghaire. Mr McGettigan was joined on the voyage by his friends Morgan Crowe, Tom Mulligan (club protest secretary at Dublin Bay Sailing Club), and Dedan Hayes (a solicitor for law firm Arthur Cox). Mr McGettigan had bought the boat in December and the journey was to take them from the US down to Bermuda and then on to Antigua, however disaster struck.

A spokesman for the Bermuda Coastguard said the yacht suffered two “knock-downs” (where the boat is tipped over before righting itself) as large waves buffeted the crippled vessel. Speaking to the Irish Independent, the spokesman went on to say “With the mechanical failures and damage they sustained, they put out a distress call which we received about 70 miles north of Bermuda”.

Luckily a Greek freighter, the Tetian Trader managed to pick up the distress call, and was close enough to the area to respond. The crew of the freighter managed to rescue the men from the yacht shortly before it slipped beneath the waves. The men are currently being cared for on the Greek freighter which is headed to Turkey. They will be dropped off at Gibraltar early next week, where they can then make their way home.

My friend repaired to his condo in Ireland. Later in the year he will re-cross the pond (in the air) and resume sailing with us in our waters. I look forward to hearing him detailing the lessons learned, etc.