The Wolf: “Do I want to rig my 4.7?”
Me: “There’s no wind in the forecast anytime soon. We should sail until our arms fall off.”
It’s rare that I have a good idea. Mostly I just follow the crew and say dumb things, but yesterday I had a good thought. We’d been sailing all day (!) at Sebonac under sunny skies (me on a 5.5) playing with the waves near Cows Neck and the ramps on the sand bar, so when the winds jumped mid-afternoon many of us paused to consider calling it a day. Rerigging seemed like a chore.
Then I piped in with my dismal wind outlook. And it was a good thing, because as fine a day as it had been, the best part was the last few hours. I was lit on my 4.5 and Candy (the 77 liter board) and could have sailed a 4.0. Sebonac’s sand bars went off, the wavy section got twice as good, and everyone was grabbing a piece...it was positively crowded in sections. Scott somehow was holding on to a 5.2 (he’d missed the first half of the day, and so was fresh. He’s always crazy.) It was jumpalicious, rampalicious…the whole deal. The fine day had turned into one of the best sessions of the year, in my opinion. So we sailed and sailed and sailed. The Wolf had picked up the mantra “there’s no wind in the forecast so there’s nothing to save it for” as we stood on the beach, arms hanging. Until we went out again and again and again.
This morning, it hurt to pick up the orange juice carton, so I know I got it all yesterday.
The lucky mob included Scott, the Wolf, Jeff Slechta, CPU John, Eddie, Jeremy, Frank, and Jon Ford.