Dangling Over the Water

Scaring up Some Halloween Sailing...Dangling Over the water

Who knew we'd roll out at 1 pm and roll the sails down at sunset? I guess Frank maybe did, but I didn't.
Too much of a good thing, can also be a good thing.

Somehow a short sail from out of the glorious blue day passed through, wind and gray, silver and rose pink for a moment, to arrive back where it started, in a golden tobacco Stratocaster sunburst.



We tacked up the bay and zagged back to the south, while a gorgeous ketch pulled parallel reaches, its sails backlit by the sun, as we both cruised up and out the narrow exit of Manhasset Bay.

Halloween weekend is always good sailing. This might not have been windsurfing we are used to this time of year, but it was some pretty charged-up sailing. A nice share of swell waves had been blasting over the bow when we passed the point.

It's no secret, Frank likes to sail his boat like he sails his windsurfers: "Go big or go home!" So, fully powered was the name of the game; the jib and mainsail were up, despite the chilly 50 degree gusts from the West 20-25-plus knots. We weren't reefing down anytime soon.


"You may want to re-think your seating arrangement," said skipper Frank. As it happened, precariously dangling to leeward and inches from the water, I was already pondering how I might defy gravity, and get to the windward rail.

Getting back up to a more catamaran like sailing position would require me to shift the heaviest part of my body (upper), away from the downward dangling position I had gotten myself into, yet inches from the water, while holding a chunky SLR camera, and somehow do this with the assistance of my one good arm, which of course, was not the one that was free.

The boat doesn't typically get water over the freeboard, but we were so heeled over, it was pretty darn close. The wind was not going to let up, so I found a way to get a grip on the dropboard rails and pull myself up.

Downgust bursts were really making the boat lurch once we got out past the point.

Eventually I clawed my way up, and found that indeed, braced against something below me was better then being braced against something above.
Out in the Sound, the ketch again, heading toward the Throg's Neck Bridge.

Taking photos on a powered-up yacht on a gusty day is no picnic, and during a trip down below decks, the Nikon and I got pitched heavily backward at one point. A hockey helmet would have been a better accessory. The battery compartment blew open from the first drop, and spilled it's contents, while the compartment door flew off to the right cushions.

Quite the falling-backwards crash, camera in one hand, a slight head bang, but no further damage done to the already pinched nerve in the neck.

Frank with his nerve impingement on the shoulder was also taking it easy today, if you could call it that, sailing the 26ft Cape Dory, when normally we'd both be ripping it up at West Meadow on windsurfers. Sucks getting old and damaged parts. In my case completely sidelined from the culprits: surfing, windsurfing, golf and road cycling. Mountainbiking is also pretty much off the menu.

The neck nerve is in the stage right now, where any of these activities just aggravates it more, and NSAID anti-inflammatories have little to no effect. Nor on the pain. Acupuncture is helping a bit.
Hart Island

The Cape Dory on the other hand is a sea turtle, max 6.5 mph, but it feels fast when it's barrelling through the tight moorings by the town dock. Come to think of it what was I doing at the tiller careening through the moorings? I was a set up I tell ya!

Not intuitive at the best of times, since it requires an opposite motion to the one you'd expect. So when you're caught by surprise in a tight situation, it better be intuitive. I handed over to Frank. Who promptly dived for a set of pilings, to finesse a tight turn right on the brink of collision, or so it seemed.

But we'd had plenty of close calls already.

The point at sands point we buzzed with the keel within a foot of scraping the bottom: 5.8 feet. Four foot keel.

On the north side of Hart Island we flirted with rocks, docks, pilings, derelict boat wrecks, and heaven knows what submerged objects, not to mention a massive rusty dredger ship squeezing its way around the lee side of the restricted government property -- a former prison, and a burial ground (Potters Field) -- for unidentified deceased.

Well it was Halloween sailing, after all, give or take a day.


Jim (left), the skipper of Wynsum and Frank (right) on the launch back to North Shore Yacht Club.
Just about done here.

A little more sunset is good for the soul

A few moments in Bellevue, Washington State

I'd go back to Seattle-Bellevue in a heartbeat to visit this area more fully. This was just a passing trip on a conference, but the feel of the place was extremely refreshing.

Just a cell-phone photo from the hotel window. Very different vibe from the one posted above, at night on the main drag.


The excellent Lucky Strike lanes can be found under this Microsoft building in Bellevue.

Memory's a blur, bowling with the conference group


Just a flavor of the lanes. If I recall we did work up a good sweat, although I am not sure how that is possible with bowling. Not a sport I ever thought of as being in the slightest bit strenuous. Hmmm.

Play Ball!

Play Ball! I'm waiting ...
Not baseball, forgot about the baseball. Koda wanted to get some soccer action going. I wanted to get the barbecue going. The two are not mutually exclusive, and both can take place in the backyard while the coals are building up some heat.

Ball up, fangs out.

And with Dogrik Kodaqvist it's a done deal that the ball will not escape. Well not unless he noses it into orbit, by mistake.Done deal. You didn;t think I was going to miss that catch did you/.

A classic quote from Neil, aka The Historian

In one of my irregular visits to Bikeforums, I noticed in a post at the top of a thread, that Neil, aka "The Historian," a rather complex and intense peronality, and by his work, a writer, had added the following to his signature.


"Bicycling is, in a sense, a test of courage. On a bicycle, there's little that can go wrong that isn't traced to the rider. The bike needs to be kept in condition. The rider needs to be in condition. The rider needs to be properly equipped, and skilled enough to handle the bike. Unlike an automobile, the bike becomes an extension of the rider. My bike becomes a metal part of my body, my spirit, my being. It may be possible for a coward to ride a bike, but not to ride it well."
— Neil, aka the Historian


The professional journalist in me, stopped reading, clicked into the google bar in my browser and typed in the first few words of the quote in an attempt to discover which literary giant might have been the author. The search came up empty handed: No John Updike, no Winston Churchill, no David Feherty or P.G. Wodehouse; so I read on and discovered, you know what? the author is Neil himself. Well how about them apples.

Congratulations Neil on a tremendous trope, turn of phrase, and if it were positioned elsewhere, an epigraph.

Classic Crab

10-3-10

Kudos to Mustang Steve for leading the telephone charge and rounding up a good-size posse to drive the extra miles and minutes to Crab Meadow.

Domer, Arty, Marty, Kurt, Chuck, Drysuit2, Joe Elvis, Carl who we haven't seen in a long time, Jeannie, and many more.


Kicking myself I didn't remember to take the camera, but the allure of a high-energy Crab session took complete possession of my faculties. It had been a long time and long overdue. Asthma was bugging, but not so much...inhaler deferred. I was breathing a lot better after the session, that's for sure.

http://www.jawireless.com/crab9-18-2003/pages/DSCN0041_Mike.htm
Photo by Jeff Tanenbaum
Not very different from the photos at the link above from 2003.


Waves of every shape and size from knee high up to shoulder high. Slightly up and down 5.7 conditions, 5.3 for some, 5.0 for others.

My first bona fide cold gray windy day of the fall but worth the shock to the system. The new used Curt board was even more turny and fun in the waves than imagined. A tad tricky to ootch under way, but worth the figuring out.

With the beach right there by the parking lot, it was also a great opportunity to work on a weak point in my golf game — the sand wedge. Lesson: don't hit a sand wedge into a 25 mph wind, unless you want a face full of sand.

RRD CD Wave rides again.Flat water, sunlight, new sail, some other rider, brochure photo--everything different on 10/3/10 except the board