Conference unifix::sailing

    Gee Mike, sounds like you had the cruising equivalent of our week-end
    at the JFK regatta.  Cheer up.  It's amazing how short a sailor's
    memory is when it comes to adversity.  At least you can say you worked
    out many of the early season "bugs", right?  Now you're ready for a
    perfect season.  You've paid your dues.  And remind your wife that
    this is the time of year when the mosquitos in the White Mts. are the
    HUNGRIEST.  One never gets out of the mountains this early in the
    season without donating at least a pint of blood to the little critters.
    
    Now really, wouldn't you rather be hungry, dirty, and tired on a sailboat?
    
    Sure you would ...
    			... Bob
    

   re:  0 and .1
    
    After reading Bob's account of the JFK Regatta, and Mike's account
    of his weekend.... and thinking about all my previous "mishaps and
    working adventures" I couldn't help asking myself for the umpteenth
    time - WHY DO WE ALL SAIL ???? 
    
    Between the WORK, the MONEY, and the PROBLEMS/DANGER I have come
    to the conclusion that we (or most of "we") are either certifiably
    NUTS or must really love the intrinsic aspects of the "pasttime".
    
    Thanks to both of you for reminding me that I am not the only one
    having "one fine weekend"..... :>)
    
    JC
    

    this past weedend featured 35+ winds on the bay a saber 35 had it
    mast snap just above its spreaders when one failed...i was fine
    all weekend although i was reefed...most of the guests had never
    seen a rail in the water...so i had to calm them down..
    
    great weekend
    
    jfk

    Cheer UP Mike
    
         I waited 7 1/2 hours for the first of 4 truck loads of loam
    to arrive at the house on Sat. I had lots of friends (I.E. people who don't
    mind back breaking jobs for zero pay) over to help me. By 10, the
    they were bored of the polar passage video, so we had a beer. Then
    we had another, and another, plus another for lunch.
    
        One of my helpers says, "hey, can I use your 4x4 on the power
    lines, cause it will be fun". Having digested 1 too many brews,
    I reply "Sure".
    
       About 1 hour later, my wet friend arrives and prononuces my truck
    has a flat tire and he cannot change it because the wheel won't
    come off. Well only two trips to beat on my shining mag wheels and to
    get my air pump get the MUDDY beast home, but with a bolt screwed
    into the hole. Into the garage it goes with a mental note to 
    fix it the next morning.
    
       About 4 pm the truck arrives with lots and lots of dirt with
    big rocks in it. We spread about 1/3 of a load and he arrives with
    another. We are tired and decide to quit for the day. This is followed
    by another beer or 3 to make the back pains go away. One of Bob
    B's crew calls and says they could use some help on Sunday. I say,
    "no, I got a flat to fix, and the yard is a mess".
    
      I get up Sunday to a killer hangover (why is it hang overs get
    worse as you get older, how come you don't build up a tolerance
    for them just like calluses? ). I remember to fix that tire. I
    go into my garage to find the battery dead because I left the 
    interior lights on in the truck. After 2 hours of fun and games
    plus one destroyed hockey stick, i have my wheel off. Going from
    station to station trying to find that elusive mechanic on duty,
    I just about get vaporized by some young thing driving Dad and 
    the family to church. Ok, I calm down and get the stupid tire
    fixed. Once I get home, I am starting to feel better, so I call
    up my brother and ask if he wishes to go sailing on a local lake
    because it is too late to head for the ocean. Fine he says.
    
       The day started out beautifully, except I kept blowing tacks.
    At first I thought it was another hang over syndrome, but something
    as wrong. We get into the lake and try doing some beam reaches.
    The wind is doing 22-25 with gusts at 30+ mph. The funny thing
    is that it sometime stops or veres 90 degrees. It is on the wire/
    off the wire, bob around /hang on   type weather. Anyways, we start to
    get the hang of it, and start beam reaching the lake. With my
    crew hanging out, the hulls low and screaming, we are just
    settling into a fun day when the wind stops, sort of like those
    air pockets that makes United Airline's Creole dinner cover your tie.
    The boat goes from 20 mph to zero and the boat is rolling on top
    of us as there is nothing to counter act the 220 lbs of beef 
    on the wire. Quick as a wink, i dive for the opposite site of the
    boat. It stablizies, but my crew is now a human fishing fly. he
    flys through the air, becomes unhooked from the trapese, and plummets
    past the back of my boat. this destroys the trick tiller connections
    that are suppose to take 2000 lbs of force. Because of this, my
    trick racing crossbar and tiller deep six for the lake botttom.
    Now we are in a blow, 50 yards from a rocky leeward shore containing
    resident's boats, and no steerage. Well then, we set a world record
    for stowing the sails (no mean feat on a Catamaran on choppy water
    the the sails trying to kill you). we then pull out the paddle and
    get enough steerage to get out of there. The stink potters are still
    doing laps of the lake and never ask if they can be of assistance.
    We then paddle against the wind for 20 minutes to get back to our
    launch point. We quietly stow the gear, kicking ourselves for not
    bring any cold beer to drink.
    
    The next day was beautiful. Unfortunietly, the boat was not useable.
    So I get to cut grass, shovel BIG rocks, and wash a very muddy
    truck.
    
       You may have felt bad, but you aren't out 300 bucks in parts,
    and sans a 3-day sailing weekend, plus a scratch for this weekend
    because the new parts will not arrive in time. Hope this makes you
    feel better. To me, it just reinforces why I go out sailing Sat
    and Sunday even in rain. It is cheaper than working on the house
    8>).
    
        john
      

    My fine week end started on Wednesday night.
    
    Went sailing with a couple of other deccies after work.  Left my
    8 1/2 foot inflatable sport boat tied to the stern cleat of a boat
    belonging to one of the crew.
    
    Returned 3 or 4 hours later.  As we made our approach to pick up
    the dink, we saw a painter, hanging vertically into the water. 
    No dink.
    
    After a long walk in from the mooring, contacted the Salem
    Harbormaster.  Gave him the appropriate information and headed home.
    Knowing that if something like an inflatable doesn't come back soon
    after its mysterious disappearance, it isn't likely to, started
    gathering info for the insurance claim.
    
    Next trip to Salem to go sailing was Sunday.  Met the Harbormaster.
    He told me another sailor who keeps his boat at the marina lives
    on the water in Salem.  My dink had washed up in his back yard.
    The Harbormaster schlepped my dink back to the marina.  extent of
    damage?  I had to get rid of a little seawwed from the floorboards
    after I brought the inflation pressure back up.  All three tubes
    were evenly down, probably cold water immersion induced.
    
    I am lucky.  I had a great weekend!
    

    Fine weekend?  You bet!!
    
    Met another sailor friend in the street last night.  "Were you out
    Monday??", 
    "Sure was. Wasn't it great?" 
    "I figured it was around 15 kn steady - what did you have on the
    meter?" 
    "About that, we went round Cape Ann - I think it's downhill for the
    rest of the summer, though - that was too perfect"
    
    It was such a super day off Salem and Gloucester, my 11 year old
    daughter took her first trick at the tiller.  An hour 15 minutes
    from Eastern Point Light to Bowditch Ledge.  No rail in the water,
    just a great close reach all the way.  After 20-30 minutes of anxiety
    about messing up ("Where's my steering point?? Oh, I can't see it, Oh, 
    I just moved it, Oh, what's another steering point??") to the level
    she could steer with her eyes closed or by looking over the stern.
    
    What a thrill for a kid.  What a confidence builder.  What a great
    week end.
    
    Ron