My cell phone rang.
"Hello Michael, how are you today?"
I was excited, because the forecast called for a windy afternoon, and the trees were beginning to rustle. But who was this stranger on the phone? I asked.
"It's The Wolf."
"The Wolf?" Did I know a Wolf? Are the telemarketers now calling cellphones? Am I Little Red Riding Hood? Then a memory began to piece itself together in my head. A long, long time ago, when it used to blow strong on Long Island, I windsurfed with a guy named The Wolf. This was probably that guy, calling because we were going to have wind!
"I'm good! Where are we sailing?"
By and by it all got sorted out, and New Suffolk was the call. New Suffolk with the split personality--always sailed in S-SSW wind, turn right during incoming tide for bump and jump, turn left for the sweet jibatorium behind the Robins Island sand bar. The tide was wrong for jumping, so we'd be playing in the super flat waters.
I got there and barely recognized the Wolf...he was in a bathing suit and t-shirt. Where was his drysuit? Then a second guy said Hi. I was catching on, and so photoshopped him in my head with a heavy wetsuit. It was Scott! Another face from the past...
Soon we launched...5.8 was the call (me lit on a 6.2, Scott struggling on a 5.2, da Wolf was just right.)
By and by Peconic Jeff showed up (we'd sailed Hecksher the day before so I recognized him straight off) but yet another windsurfer appeared, and called out to me as he planed by. It was Seth, former Windsurfing Hamptons employee who'd gone to the dark side ten years ago...I hadn't seen him since. He had brought a windsurfing board and sail with him through the time portal.
With the window to the past wide open and letting in a heck of a breeze (time to rig down) everyone was tearing it up behind the sand bar. While the outside of the jibatorium is flatter than Napeague or Hatteras or Bonaire (pick your well know flat spot) the run and turn right along the bar is the flattest, fastest water I've ever sailed. The big boys in France should ditch the Ditch and go for the speed record here!
Anyhow the fun move is to charge the sand bar, then bear off on a broad reach about six feet from the sand. I always do this behind Scott, who is:
a. knowledgable about the spot, and
b. crazy
to determine just how close I can get to the sand. When you jibe at the end of the run (it's only about a 3/4 turn from the broad reach) you have so much speed and the water is so perfectly flat that you just rocket out of the turn. It's a beautiful thing, as addictive as ice cream, and so there was a ring of about eight windsurfers (Jonathan Ford and Jimi Sobeck from the present had arrived by now) tearing around at breakneck speed in one mad circle, again and again and again x500.
The sailing was so easy that there never seemed a reason to take a break, however after 1500 jibes some of us (me) noted that our hands were falling off. I had to pick up Mrs. Puffin anyway, and the Wolf also headed in to give his paws a rest, when all of a sudden the wind shut off, and the remainder of the mad circle had to shlog or swim back to shore. It was strange wind behaviour, but I have no doubt that the nearby time portal was messing with the isobars.
So glad you had some wind...........I am jealous cos really dying to get on the water and feel the wind thru my hair.
Right now I am up in Wisconsin - quite a way from Charleston, South Carolina! Yep I have really clocked up the mileage!! At least I can say I swam in the sea in Charleston (actually it was on the Isle of Palms). I was imagining it on a windy day, they must get some great waves down there.
Posted by: Bunty | July 06, 2008 at 01:04 PM