Went sailing.

Got a call Saturday night from a fellow I used to sail with a few years ago before our European Adventure (as good a term as any) wondering if I had changed my email address?

Well no, but I just hadn’t checked in for a time.  It happens.  I think his note was number 75 down the list. Oops.

I might have just a couple too many subscriptions?  Whatever.

Seems he wanted to know if I wanted to go sailing on Sunday?

I had to get back to him, since we only have the one vehicle,  but after we got that sorted out,  I was good to go.

So, for the first time in five years, I was out on Lake Ontario yesterday.    Eeeee!

 

 

 

I took the little camera.  I wasn’t about to cart around the Nikon.  If they made the kind of case where you just flipped down the front to take a picture,  remember those?  I probably would take it on the boat.  Just the same, there’s only so much room in the sink for everyone’s water bottles,  wallets, watches, keys and so on.  All the things that you’d rather not have end up at the bottom of the lake? 

And um,  I no longer wear a watch on the boat. 

But let’s not go there.

 

Had to do at least one self portrait.  

 

 

The gentleman next to me looks extra grumpy,  but he’s a gentle soul,  trust me.

I think he might have been a little uncomfortable due to his proximity to that winch right there?  Just a thought.

Anyhoodle,  I did take a couple more pics.

 

Here we are leaving Bronte Harbour.

 

 

 

 

Following everyone out to find the committee boat…

 

When we were first heading out to the “race course”, (it’s a big lake, and they can set out a course most anywhere) it didn’t look all that promising.  A little bumpy and almost no wind.  

Not.  Good.

That’s kind of like when it rains at the drag races, not much is going to happen.  And for sailing,  it’s just about the worst torture there is.  You need wind!

I can recall times when the committee boat would motor half way to Rochester,  trying to find some wind for us to race in.  Sometimes that would work,  but there was also that sense of relief when they’d finally give up, sound the three blasts (race cancelled), we’d all fire up the auxiliaries and race to the club house.   

Um,  they got beer.

 

 

But then yesterday just before the first gun, we got lucky and it picked up,  as you may note from our boat speed.

That was on the second leg.

The theoretical hull speed of a C&C 27 is right around 5.5 knots.  So that’s just about all she’ll do.  We have hit seven,  on the back side of a wave,  that kind of thing,  but you’ll never do too much more than six on a steady blow.  Five and a half was as much as we could get on the “fun meter” yesterday. 

 

All in all it was an awesome afternoon.  It’s racing, but I think I mentioned that.  We weren’t just out for a pleasant jaunt down to the bridge and back or whatever. 

The thing too with racing is,  and how shall I put this?  It’s best not to f**k up.  Pardon my language,  but that covers a broad range of things that can go wrong.  There’s a bunch of planning that goes on,  both on the boat and on the race course. 

 

We were flying spinnaker, and how shall I put this?  You need to know your shit.   If you get just one line out of place, it can get….*interesting*.  I was working “the pit”,  which means hoisting and lowering the headsail, spinnaker, dousing it and repacking it.  You find out the first time you go to hoist the thing again whether or not you did that right.  There’s no “do overs” either.

I honestly didn’t see how we did in terms of results, nor do I really care, but there were a host of those in our fleet still finishing long after we crossed the finish line.    So we might have come in second or third?  Meh, whatever. 

I just figure,  as long as we don’t come in dead freakin’ last,  then at least that’s somewhat gratifying.

 

Possibly as a result of having not messed up,  the skipper offered me the helm for the way in.  Sure, what the heck.

It was pointed out to me that there were boats still on the race course,  but I’ve been at the helm enough times to know which end is up.

 

In addition to which,  motoring the boat into the slip means I don’t have to remember how to put everything away. I don’t think that would have been an issue though, since everything had come back into my pea brain up to that point.

As I was quick to mention early on in our outing,  “I might not remember what I had for breakfast, but I can remember stuff from five years ago.”  

It’s all about the long term memory, and if that ever goes, woe is me.

I was just a tad tired and hungry by the time I got back to the Ponderosa,  but that was OK.  Did I mention, I didn’t f**k up? 

*yes Bob, you did,  now shut up*

 

I suspect that I’ve used my quota of boring words for today,  so this’ll be about it.  Hope you had a fine weekend.

We’re all good here.

 

Thanks for looking in.