The closest I got to windsurfing over the weekend was standing next to the loaded van. Texts and phone calls filled in the picture as I failed to get wet.
But not Scott. No. Scott was going to sail! Saturday's fog was crazy thick (visibility about 75 feet) but launch he did at Mattituck on a 4.7. Ice was not a problem, but Frank, Jeff, Christian and the Wolf concluded visibility was just too low. Peconic Jeff writes the rest of the crew chose "to find one excuse or another to keep dry/alive. Christian and I stood on the shore for a bit, listening to the chimp cackle echo forth from the deep fog." Afterwards Scott proclaimed it was Crazy Fun out there. We all looked forward to Sunday, though, as the forecast favored Sebonac.
Sunday morning came, windless. The skunk texts flew (complete with a Pepe Le Pew from Jeff). The wife had a list of things she wanted to do in the city, so we left Peconica early...and so missed the sesh! Argh! Jeff wrote "Then today Scott led us to Sebonac, where he, Joe, the Wolf & I scored a couple hours nuked on 4.7 and small boards. Sunny, scenic Sebonac was a joy for us Americans. Those with accents fared worse. A Brit (Felix) and Frenchman (Philipe) pined from the shore with no gear, and another Brit (Christian) suffered at home with sudden flu conditions. Meanwhile, the Italian representative (Tomas) arrived too late, and stood rigged and suited on the water's edge, watching the dying gusts and wondering how long till the next sesh." Scott is da man. Bone crazy, but still da man. (Top: Not the Flying Dutchman, but a flying wind chimp emerges from the fog. Middle: Scott tells Christian he isn't crazy enough. Bottom: Scott on a sunny Sunday. Photos by Jeff Schultz.)
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