The Peconic Puffin Windsurfing Blog

Thanks for a Thanksgiving Session

The morning texts were adamant:  Can't sail this afternoon...Thanksgiving obligations!   So we hit it earlyish.   Artie, Bruce, Fisherman, Hulse, Jon, Scott, the Wolf, and yours truly lit on three and four meter sails, winds 25 gusting to 35.  "My smallest sail is a 4.2" I protested, when everyone was launching on 3.7's and 3.3's.  But Jon rigged a 4.7, and I added extra downhaul and 4cm of outhaul to flatten my rig.   And it worked most of the time.   LIT.   I got off the water at 11:30 to go home and start Thanksgiving preparations, and several others were also homeward bound by noon, but what a morning to be thankful for!

(Top photo:  Smoke on the water, courtesy Massimo.   Bottom photo: Artie and ?, courtesy Artie.)

Meschutt with the Ramps

The ramps! Scott said.  He was right.   Meschutt usually has fine rampage...clean leaping on port...but Sunday was fun day with some particularly beefy launch pads.  Too bad about my knee...

But still!  Frank, Jon, the Wolf, Scott, Artie and YT caught the solid winds (4.2 for most of us) and about two hours of fun before the sun set.   With air temps of 42 and the water starting to chill it was strictly drysuit conditions, and any gear not well placed got blown down the beach. 

That would be my board, anyway...

But still!  Nothing beats a windy Sunday.

The Bowl Is All But Completely Washed Away

The Bowl...the friendly cove, wavesailing and surfing venue...is essentially gone, the beach washed away by this season's storms.   Dune Road is hanging on by a thread as the town keeps moving sand as fast as it can to save the road and the businesses along it.  Click on the link for video and photos.

"It might be a long time before we sail there again" Scott says.   I haven't sailed there in a year.  Will I ever again?   Will any of us?

Photo:  Google map of the Bowl before the storms hit.   Compare to the video.

 

Too Much Wind? And the Death of My 3.4

Thursday we turned up at North Sea Road.  Both Jon Ford and I were on 4.2's (it's wrong when I'm on the same size sail as Jonathan) and between the tailwalking and the bumps I was just about out of control 75% of the time.  Scott and the Wolf watched from inside the Wolf's warm pickup.  But after 90 minutes the decision was to try elsewhere, and in the end the day was done.

Which was good for saving one's strength for Saturday!   Napeague was LIT...most everyone overpowered on 3.3's and 3.4's.   Jeremy Hulse Jonathan Scott the Wolf Frank and others toying with the idea of crossing to Gardiners Bay (not me!)

“This is the most wind I’ve sailed in a long time” said Scott.

It was nuking.   Two foot chop at this flatwater haven, winds 35 gusting to 45.  One knucklehead out there with a kite who thankfully didn't get killed.   I was mindful of the old Jason Voss quote "nobody actually WANTS to sail in 30+, but we're windsurfers.  We can't say 'it's too windy'".   So while a few attempted to sail Gardiners, the Wolf Scott me and others contented ourselves with speed and survival runs on the shallow bay.    Just as I decided "one more run, then I'm done" I got catapulted through my 3.4.  A one foot hole now graced the sail.

It made things a little easier to manage!   "Not a 3.4 anymore" Scott cackled.   T'was true.  Also a teense sad.  I'd had that sail for almost 20 years (a Naish Session).   Now it's in a dumpster.  C'est la sail.

My Worst Jibe Attempt of All Time

It was a windsurfing party at Meschutt.   A dozen or more windsurfers on 4.2's or thereabouts (Hulse Scott the Wolf Frank Sky King another Frank Jan Fisherman Joe Nat Jon Ford Bruce etc) tearing it up on a warm day, the Peconic ramp and chop machine in full effect.  Fantastic!   But on one outbound run I found myself wanting ready to jibe, looking for a spot, and looking...looking...looking.  After a solid minute of nothing suitable I had the following thought:

"I don't need a flattish patch...if I bend my knees enough I can jibe anywhere."

This was not true.  I didn't know it yet though.

Unhooked, hung from the boom, got down low and stepped on the downwind rail to initiate a solid aggressive carve.   As I hit the first big bump I got thrown off the board backwards and UP...then landed with my back on the top of a steep piece of chop so my head snapped back.

I felt an electric jolt.  Then my left arm went numb.  Then I felt burning.

"I'm f***ed" I thought.  With one arm I slowly swam to my board and hung on.   After 20 seconds feeling came back to the arm (also pain in quantity to my neck).   Floated there for a couple minutes, then managed a waterstart, managing to sail back to the beach.   I told Scott my story.

"You have a stinger" he said.  And he proceeded to describe my symptoms perfectly, and told me stories about his own stingers.   Well if he lived to tell the tale then so will I.  "When can I sail again" I asked.  "Take a day off."   Sounds good.  Back to the water Sunday!