The Peconic Puffin Windsurfing Blog

Ponquogue Behaves Strangely While I Sail Terribly

Ponquogue is probably my favorite place to windsurf on Long Island.   When the wind and tides line up the waves are just so dang friendly and inviting.  So when the NE forecast arrived as ENE and the call was Ponquogue, I showed up ASAP, along with a sizeable east end crowd, including Bill, Fisherman, Scott, Jimmy, Bruce, CD, and Johns Hulse, VanderWolf and Ford.   Sails ranged from 4.7-5.2 with me on a 5.0.

The hitch was that P-quogue wasn't it's friendly self.   The waves were bunched and strange, the wind was up and down, and more than one veteran called the conditions "weird".     Couple this with my being in full suck mode for the day, and my fun factor was definately not a Ten.   I could not make head or tails of the shorebreak outbound, my semi-recovered foot did not like all the twisting and turning, and I humiliated myself a few times exiting the water (until Fisherman took pity and gave me a tutorial on how to get out of the mess.)    Overall my ratio of time spent in the water vs. on the water hit a major low.   Still, it was waves and wind, and I'll take a day like that any and every Sunday thank you very much!

Perfectly Good Basic Mast Cam Photo

What's not to like?  I found this photo on Seabreeze.   The photographer (who calls himself Digger) clamped an inexpensive waterproof camera to the top of his mast, rigged a trigger pull with some fishing line, and pulled off this shot during a jump (note his front hand tugging on the line.) I was messing with a mast mount for my ATC 2000 waterproof video camera (you may have caught my boom mount experiments last year.) I thought I had a foolproof system, but when I exploded during an ill-advised duck jibe, camera and mount dove for the bottom of the Peconic.   I've since bought a replacement, and hope to be back on the water with it (and a new and improved mast mount) soon.

April Rigging Fool

We had a beautiful forecast...SSW 30ish plus.   New Suffolk on the North Fork was the call (in the Spring on southerlies, the bays do better than the ocean as the ocean holds the cold longer, with a cold air bubble fighting the warmer invading southern blow.)

It was whitecap city as windsurfers (Jason, Jon Ford, Scott, the Wolf, Jeff, and moi) began to arrive.  With the trees howling, the Wolf noted that the forecast had been "not poopage".   I immediately declared that "Not Poopage" would be the title of the next post in the Puffin, but Jason winced, so poopage goes in the can.

The Wolf was on the water first, having rigged a 4.2.  I always need a fraction larger than The Wolf, so I rigged my 4.5.   But it took the Wolf only two runs before he returned proclaiming his need of a smaller wing.   So I left the 4.5 rigged, and rigged my 4.0 in anticipation of big winds.

I was on the water next with my 4.0.   It was too much.   I could hold it down, but there would be little fun sailing so overpowered.    After a few runs I returned to shore, derigged the 4.0 as well as the 4.5, and rigged my smallest sail, the 3.4.   My third sail rigged in thirty minutes.

Soon we were all ripping on three meter sails, having a great time in the flat water behind the sand bar, waiting for the tides to change (which would set off a mogul field on the other side of the bar...totally jumpalicious.)   But after 90 minutes the wind died.   We returned to the beach and surveyed the conditions.   It was looking like a solid 6.2.   "I'm going to cry,” said The Wolf, who got into his pickup, from which he produced a pizza pie.   Nobody knew what to rig (besides napkins).  Jason thought the wind would honk again.   John just wanted to plane, so he rigged a 5.4.  I derigged my 3.4 and waited for others to be wind dummies.

Soon it was revealed...I needed my 4.5.   So I rigged it for the second time that day...my fourth rigging of a sail in total, and tore it up in the high-speed flat water again.   Then I crossed the sand bar to check out the psychochop setting up in the outgoing tide.    Had a good time for 20 minutes before aggravating my recovering foot.   The foot is currently on ice.

(Never sailed New Suffolk?  You can find it, and dozens of other windsurfing sites, on the Long Island Windsurfing Map.)

The Future Is Red

I sail in a world of blue drysuits.   It seem like everybody has a blue Bare.   I'd been going drysuitless for years (rocking a 5/3 Neil Pryde semi for all it was worth) but after a year of hearing the boys in blue praise their drysuits, and remembering my old blue Bare of yore, I decided to take the plunge.    When I placed the order Jonathan Ford said to me "you'll love the drysuit.  But it's gonna be red."

"Red" I asked?

"Red." 

"I don't understand."

"They're red now.   Only red.   Still want one?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you should get one."

So I ordered it.

I've been wearing it for a few months now.  It's great.   Scott said "red makes more sense!"   We're all worried about being visible, bobbing around in the water separated from our gear or perhaps unconscious hoping that someone sees us and rescues us before we slide down into the icy depths of Davy Jones' locker...

(stop stop stop)

Certainly it helps to be visible, anyway, and red stands out better than blue.  The future is red.

*****

Note 1:  Word is that Bare is discontinuing the venerable Polarheat drysuit.  If you're a fan of the product, you should order one (in red) ASAP.

Note 2:  Lily and Dana (the ladies of Napeague) wear drysuits that are not blue.   They sail in polychrome Kokotats.   But they don't windsurf when it's cold enough for me to wear my drysuit.  (Hopefully I will not get in trouble for writing that.)

Note 3:  The Future is Red is the name of a friend's blog.  Her blog has nothing to do with windsurfing, so you know it must be good if I read it.