The Peconic Puffin Windsurfing Blog

Finally...Canadian Hole

Fresh from losing my OBX wave virginity I was hot to get back on the water, but there were no wind/wave combos to be found Wednesday morning.  “Why don’t you sail at Canadian Hole?” suggested Andy.

Canadian Hole.   Probably the best known windsuring spot in Hatteras, in fifteen trips to the Outer Banks I had never actually sailed there (well, once did some nonplaning freestyle for thirty minutes, but no footstraps were involved.   There was no kicking up of spray.)

So I went, and wrapped up my minivacation to Hatteras with a few hours of 7.0 sailing amidst the amiable crowd of windsurfers and kiters.   Jibes, 360’s, push tacks, duck 360’s, backwind jibes etc…all the carving big-sail freestyle I could muster kept me happily busy skimming across those famous shallows.   I started to get cocky, and so of course stuck the fin in the shallows for a not-too-bad face plant.   Or two.

Then the wind backed down and I spent an hour talking with Rochester windsurfers Gary and Michael.   Gary hooked me up with a new yoga program that I want to try, and Michael told me stories about meeting Aaron the Human Catapult.   The perfect stuff to dry off to before heading back to New York.  

This was my sixteenth trip to Cape Hatteras, and I pulled off four firsts:  First OBX wave experience (which means I've completed a New Year's Resolution,) first session sharing the water with dolphins, first Canadian Hole session, and first time camping out of the van (that should get its own post...)

Tasting My First Hatteras Wave

The waves were small and there wasn’t a lot of wind, but I finally scored my first ocean session in Hatteras.    I’ve been pestering my Outer Banks blogging buddies OBX Bill and Andy of Lost in Hatteras since I arrived a few days ago, and yesterday afternoon Bill told me to come meet him at…what was the name?   They’ve got lots of exotic sounding (to me) launches down here…Ego Beach, S Turns, the Cove, Jockey’s Ridge etc.     Bill told me to look for his Jeep, and when I found him I asked for the name of the launch.

“We call it 'the first washout south of Oregon Inlet,'” Bill said.   Not the stuff of song, but I didn’t care…I was gonna get me my first OBX ocean time!

Me on a 5.5 and the big JP, Bill on a 5.3 and a skinny old-school 88 liter beauty (Bill is very efficient) planing was on-again, off-again as we poked around chasing the three foot (occasionally larger) waves while some dolphins checked us out (this was my first time sailing with dolphins, too.)   I soon learned to imitate Bill and do a chicken jibe (or marginal facsimile thereof) when a promising wave began to set up.   I’m a poor judge of forming waves, but I managed to catch three that were a lot of fun…for me to get four or five bottom turns on a wave was a joy. We were at it for a couple of hours before the wind died…a nice little sunset sesh.

Now that I’ve had my first tidbit taste of la wave OBX I want more, but I’ve got to head back to New York soon, and if that’s all I get here I’ll be happy to say I’m happy.  

Indulging the Hatteras Impulse

I needed a Hatteras fix, a window of opportunity opened, and an Andy Alert* promised afternoons of sweet thermals in warm waters.     I hemmed and hawed for a few hours, then threw a sleeping bag in the van and headed out of New York at 6AM Monday morning.

Nine hours later I was speaking to Andy face to face, who explained the intricacies of  an offshore Bermuda High vis a vis the wind, before I drove down to Canadian Hole to wait for it to blow.   But the wind did not come, and after receiving some email with bad news I was just about miserable in paradise.   Then came a new Andy message to drive 15 miles north, and I did.

Eighteen warm and wonderful knots had me zipping around the Pamlico Sound behind Barton’s shop, sharing the water with about a dozen other windsurfers and kiters.    I optimistically put on a shorty (turned out I only needed a bathing suit, so warm was the water) and spent a few hours in my own private jibe and carving freestyle festival, as the sun and sky put on a signature electric gold Hatteras sunset.   At one point I unhooked and leaned way back, with my eyes perhaps six inches above the water flying past my cheek.

It felt so good.

*Lost in Hatteras’ Andy has launched the Hatteras Wind Alert for those lucky few who can drop everything and run to the Outer Banks on a moments notice (or masochists who want to know when they’re going to miss it.) 

Unbelievably Great Freestyle Bicycle Video

Danny MacAskill absolutely blows my mind with this performance,  which is in turns mind-bogglingly insane and yet graceful and restrained.   There's great economy of motion as he does the frickin' impossible on his bike.  It's set to The Funeral by Band of Horses.

I found this on Culture Catch.    Is it off-topic?   I don't know, but it doesn't feel like it to me.  If these things can be done (and done with such style) on a bicycle, just think of what madness has yet to be invented for windsurfing.

Swap Meet May 9th on Long Island

You know the drill:  Drop your stuff off at Windsurfing Hamptons between now and 9AM on the morning of the swap, then marvel as other windsurfers find good use for the gear you're done using,

OR

Check out all the great used windsurfing equipment that you really, really need, plus store specials on new stuff, on May 9th at Windsurfing Hamptons,

OR

Do both,

AND

hang out and chat with other windsurfers.

There will be kitesurfing stuff too (if you're down with Vader).   For details, directions etc check out the Windsurfing Hamptons web site, or call them at 631-283-9463.

Sailing Sebonac Until We Dropped

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. 

New iWindsurf Meters on Long Island

How often do I have something good to say about iWindsurf?   Not often enough.   But over the last few months some new meters have been showing up on iWindsurf's Long Island observations map (they call it "Southeast NY" that are providing some much needed coverage (or extra coverage) in the Gilgo/Demo, Hecksher, and Mecox sailing areas.    We're sending investigators to go looking for the Mecox meter to sort out how it might be affected by wind direction and water temps.   And soon the Peconic Puffin is going to run a wonderfully detailed piece by Good King Mike of Hecksher (Mike Burns, King of the East as of last year's East Coast Windsurfing Festival...see if he keeps the thrown this June) on how to read the critical Blue Point meter to tell you what conditions are on the water at Hecksure.

For now, let us be thankful that iWindsurf is improving its service for Long Island windsurfing!

Robin Knox-Johnston

Anyone who sailed a boat before they windsurfed has had the experience of feeling they've whittled down sailing to its essence:  Just you, the sail, and a bit that floats.   It's bold.   The very first time I tried getting on a windsurfer, another guy on the beach had just come back from circumnavigating Robins Island in the middle of the Peconic Bays.  "Wow" I thought, "a guy can really do stuff on these things!"

Forty years ago today a much more impressive guy, Sir Robin Knox-Johnston, circumnavigated...the whole planet.  By himself.  Nobody had done that before.    Can you imagine what it took to do that?   Truly a stupendous achievement of sailing and self-sufficiency.

My blogging buddy Adam of Messing About In Sailboats has been making a lot of noise about the 40th anniversary of Knox-Johnston's achievement.    I'm happy to add to the din.   I also want to circumnavigate Robins Island.  Maybe I can get Peconic Jeff to join me in the attempt?

Wind, Waves, and Dues

The perfecto forecast for Ponquogue (ENE building to 30) turned out a nice morning crowd.   I took a 4.5 out into shoulder-high waves with Frank, the Wolf, Jon Ford, Bruce, Radek, Bill, Scott, and John Hulse. George Pav stopped by to watch (he’s recovering from a ding), and conditions were reasonably sweet until the wind shifted a bit onshore, helping the incoming tide kick up some beach break.   I got worked, pogoed my mast with the board three feet out of the water, but luckily nothing broke.

Not so lucky was the Wolf, imitating my pogo a few hundred yards down the beach from the site of my humiliation.   But he carries spares, and so was ready to rig when we all moved down to The Bowl.

At the Bowl the wind was building fast, and we were joined by Fisherman, Jeremy, and Jimi Sobeck.   Everyone launched with their Ponquogue-sized sails, and shortly came in to rerig (me I just stepped off the board before clearing the inside, so brutal were the gusts pounding my 4.5.  Jibing was out of the question.

Rigged the 4.0, got pounded again, then brought out the downhaul crank to try and make the sail work.  The futility of this effort was spelled out by my 77 liter board, which was picked up by a 45 knot gust and thrown into the back of my head.

“Good thing you’re wearing a helmet,” Bill said.    There would have been quite a bit of blood otherwise.

As I carefully reconnected board and rig (my daze necessitating extra care) the Wolf came in.  “I just got blown off the water” he said, walking by with his 3.7.

I wasn’t sure I could hold down my 3.4, so I packed it up and went home.

Hail Caesar...He Is Coming

The master of jawdropping lightwind freestyle magic, Bonaire's Caesar Finies, will be competing at the second annual East Coast Windsurfing Festival at Hecksher State Park, June 6-7.   The bar has just been raised Big Time!  Of course Long Island counters with the reigning King of the East Mike Burns, along with LI expat Chachi Sassone.   Come check out the action (and compete yourself...there will be casual competition classes in both freestyle and racing for the fun-inclined)...sign up now at the East Coast Windsurfing Festival website.  

If you've never seen Caesar do his thing, check out the video below and find out what all the fuss is about.  

Peconic Jeff Blues

"They were forecasting upper twenties, but we’re stuck with lower teens,
 Yeah they were forecasting upper twenties, but we’re skunked with lower teens,
 I didn’t think I’d need a big sail, I just don’t know what it means.

 Michael said I needed seven meters, but my biggest is a 5.9,
 You know Michael said get seven meters, but all I’ve got is 5.9,
 I’ve been fine on windy days, but they don’t blow all the time"

That’s the first two verses of “Peconic Jeff Blues,” a song Jeff was singing to me via instant message on one of the very few days out of two weeks he wasn’t ripping it up in the Outer Banks.  In the third verse he gets all introspective, weighing his desire to be a cool kid with only small gear, but then remembers that as someone who does the Gecko Loop (I do it with him) he will never cool.

The song ending is inconclusive…we don't learn whether Jeff will plane on those 14 knot summer days.

There’s a second meaning to the title of this post…you may have noticed the lack of photography in the Peconic Puffin of late.   That’s because the principal photographer (the aforementioned Jeff) had his camera break on him, AND he’s been away.  This double whammy has really put a hurt on the visual aspect of this blog.

We hope he gets a new camera soon!

(Jeff, happily sailing his small gear.  Photo by Bill Doutney.)

Lollygagging and Wave Riding

I woke up very early to join the gang in a much-anticipated morning session.  But we couldn't decide on where to sail.   The list of places that were "it" went like this:

Demo*
Ponquogue
The Bowl
Gardiners Bay
Shinnecock Road
Shinnecock Park East
The Bowl (again)
East Landing.

We ended up sailing at the Bowl, where nobody seemed in a rush to go sailing.   But after a whole lot of lollygagging Scott and I went out on 5.2/5.5's and big boards.   We gagged for a little bit, then sailed powered while putting up with holes, and within twenty minutes we were ready to switch boards and rig down, which got the other lollygaggers...Jon Ford, the Wolf (who explained during some peak lollygaggery that the proper spelling of his last name is "vanderWolf" ) and Bill Barber motivated to rig.

Bowl conditions were sweet...head-high waves in nice sets rolling through clean, with sails running 4.7-5.2.   After several hours of this the wind backed off, and we packed up and would have left were it not for the arrival of Fisherman, who wanted to windsurf and wanted company.   In time the Wolf, Bill and the newly arrived Jimi Sobeck joined Fisherman for more wave action.   Jimi in particular was tearing it up...frontside, backside, skidding across the tops of waves, and the rest of us were getting some worthy rides too.   But while I had caught one of the best waves of my life earlier in the day (and didn't make a fool of myself on it) I used this second session to explore some fool moves and get ahead on my dues paying.  

Scott (watching from shore) counted three major pummelings.   At the time I said "yes there were three big ones" though one I now forget completely, the second involved failing to sail faster than an approaching 5-foot high wall of just-broken wave.   The third I remember vividly:  I was shlogging in a hole on the way out, but felt confident that I'd clear the wave jacking to eye-level before me.   It was only when it had grown to seven feet high and started breaking perhaps five feet in front of me that I realized all was lost.  I jumped off, rolled into a ball, and didn't have too bad a time going over the falls.  At least one seal laughed at me as I surfaced to swim after my gear.

I'm glad we never went to East Landing.   It was one of my favorite Bowl sessions.

*word is an epic session was had by the mid-Island crew at Demo!

Catching the Perfect Ramp (Meschutt Weekend Day Two)

Sunday morning the thermometer said 36 degrees.  It's April, boys and girls...what's up with 36 degrees?   It mattered because it was blowing again, and as it was Easter sunday, any sessions to be had were going to have to be had before holiday meals and gatherings.  It was up to 40 when we arrived at Meschutt...the Wolf, Bill Barber, Jeff Schlecter (you know it had to be cold for the iceboard guru to show!) and John Hulse on a kite.  It was also sunny, low tide, and the wind NW about 4.7.   Best of all, Meschutt's perfect little inside ramps were everywhere to be had.

In my opinion the finest ramps (measured by the foot) are found at Meschutt at low tide.  Yes the sand bar at Sebonac Inlet throws up beautiful half-pipes, and Iron Pier in 30 knots has launch pads to the moon, but the inside at Meschutt has these 18" wavelets that toss you into the air like they're spring-loaded.    They look so small and unintimadating that they encourage charging at high speed.   And so you fly.   Fun, fun, fun, I tell you!

(Haven't been to Meschutt Park?   You can find it and about 50 other Long Island windsurfing locations on the Long Island windsurfing map.)

A kiter was killed on the water in Cape Hatteras (updated)

This is an awful story. Most of what's here comes from forum posts and emails from Long Island windsurfers in Hatteras (including Peconic Jeff and Mike Burns) along with posts in some kitesurfing forums that tell this story:

Saturday afternoon winds were light...10-15 knots.  Windsurfers and kiters were on the water off of Avon with big lightwind gear.   A cold front blasted through around 5pm, with gusts up to 40mph, flattening any number of sailors and kiters.    Shortly after two apparently inexperienced kiters got worked just off of Island Creek, a third kiter launched, and was seen intentionally getting massive air...30 foot jumps at least.  He appeared to be quite capable.   Then the kiter got into trouble during a high jump, hit the water hard, and was dragged several hundred yards downwind until his kite grounded on one of the islands.   People rushed out to help him and administered CPR, and an emergency unit soon came to take him to the hospital.   The kiter, identified as Timothy Holman from Sarnia, Ontario, did not survive.

Here's Jeff's description of what he saw:

I saw most of the kiting chaos since we were BBQ'ing in the back yard. Prior to the wind switching, I stood there scratching my head as the house next door proceeded to pump up every kite in their quiver - they had more kites than people laying there on the lawn, just upwind of where we were standing. Then they launched a couple beginners on big kites, the wind began switching and chaos ensued. At this point things began looking dangerous, so we sent the small kids inside, and minutes later one kiter was struggling near the dock (lines apparently caught), while another one was bouncing along 50 yards at a time, like a slow-motion train wreck, headed towards the docks, rocks and houses. Two others upwind were struggling, but at least in control and slowly making their way back. Despite all this chaos and the obvious 30-40 mph wind, we saw another more 'experienced looking' kiter from a different house launch on a small kite. He seemed to be in control, and started launching into giant jumps. My attention was divided between him and the two other kiters upwind, so I didn't see the actual crash, but Mike's friend Scott said he landed on the water sideways. We watched as his kite slowly floated downwind towards the island, and we knew something was wrong. We could only see the kite, but it must have been dragging the kiter through the water. 

Here is a report from the Island Free Press.

People go to Cape Hatteras with such enthusiasm, joy and expectation of a wonderful time on the water.   My heart goes out to his family and friends.

(The change in wind was not completely unforeseeable.  The wind was forecasted to go from westerly low-mid teens to northerly 20s (it actually went 30s-40+), and apparently iWindsurf sites north and west of Avon could be seen in the 30's just an hour prior.  I note this because kiting accidents...kitemares...whatever you want to call them...a kite can be a deadly water toy when things go wrong.   It seems to me that if you're going to launch a kite you really need to be on top of weather conditions and forecasts for the area.)

Windsurfing Meschutt: Saturday Was All About the Jetty

It was high tide flowing out with onshore (NNW) winds...anything but ideal for Meschutt, but we needed to sail.   It was high tide with onshore winds AND it was cold and rainy, but we really needed to sail, or at least Scott, Bill, the Wolf and I did on Saturday afternoon.   The sail call was 5.2 (later 4.7) and the bay was serving up bland, nondescript small chop, except for a stretch of about 200 yards right before the jetty.  Waist high swell and generous, meaty ramps could be had (the Wolf was even pulling off some bottom turns and cutbacks) but in order to get a nice run of this action you had to jibe within 50 feet of the rocks.

So that's what we did.   And while Scott took a few long (very long) runs pretty much to East Landing and back, the Wolf figured out that the way to play it was to jibe at the jetty, have fun with the waves/swell/fine rampage for thirty seconds, and then jibe again and head back for more.    A small playground, but with good toys.