The Peconic Puffin Windsurfing Blog

Next to Last Day, Bonaire Windsurfing Vacation

Friday morning.  Light rain.  I have developed a sore back from I don't know what (the beachside masseuse says the chop has been rough on people's backs.   The beachside masseuse...yeah I said it.)   So I am in pain.  But it's blowing 21, we leave tomorrow afternoon for the frozen Northeast, and there's a planing donkey jibe with my name on it somewhere on Lac Bay.  

Time to hit the water.

(A lone windsurfer on Lac Bay in the morning rain.   In this tropical paradise it's like taking a warm shower, but the spoiled seem to be waiting for the sun to come back out.  Not me.

Brag Sesh, Bonaire

One of the great truths of windsurfing is that nobody sees your best moments.  It’s very rare.   Even rarer if you’re me, with so few bests to witness!   This day was to be an exception.   Day Two of our Bonaire vacation had me out on a 6.5 with about thirty other windsurfers when a squall came through, knocking half the sailors down into the water while the other half raced to shore to gear down fast.   I grabbed a 5.0/85 liter FSW and took off like a shot (4.5 would have been more than enough.) 

Tearing across the wide-open bay, focused primarily on keeping the board in the water I found myself bearing down fast on the reef that separates the main sailing bay from the blue water, and I was out of position to shoot one of the channels.    Full bat out of hell mode, but I’d only been on the gear for a minute, so I was uncomfortable yet needed to rip a hellacious carve jibe, or more likely explode in the process.   This was going to be intense…

I tore into a major G-force jibe, threw up a wall of water, came flying out (luck, luck, and luck) and then I heard a howl of approval.  It’s Caesar Finies, one of Bonaire’s greats,  cheering my hero jibe!  Yes!   I wave, thrilled, then watch him throw a Culo  (planning duck to switchstance backwinded loopy thing, and then I don’t know what.)  Then he was back up and sailing along side me, both of us lit, when a perfect ramp presented itself.   Nobody goes to Bonaire for the jumping, but I popped up and put what I thought was five feet of air beneath the tail on pure flatwater, probably my biggest jump in such conditions ever.  Caesar whoops again!   We sail around together for about five more minutes (yeah that’s right…me and Caesar tearing it up) before the squall passed and we shlogged back to shore.

I’m thrilled…my jibe and my jump both witnessed and cheered by a great sailor.  But it’s not over.  Five minutes later on shore Caesar waves me over.  “We had a really good sesh out there,” he says.   Yes, I said, thinking “I’m part of his we?”   Then he said “your jump, man, the bottom of your fin was like here” as he indicates neck high.     “Wow thanks,” I tell him, and ask some questions about the impossible moves he was throwing.

Me and Caesar, tearing up Lac Bay.  I can call it a trip already.

(Photo:  A lone windsurfer on the water after the squall winds subsided.  There was a rainbow but I didn't have the camera ready.)

Windsurfer, Be My Valentine!

Ladies, are you still searching for that special someone?   Consider looking amongst the windsurfers:

10. The ratio of men to women is 4 to 1.
  9.  They can talk about something besides football.
  8.  They don’t smell too bad because it’s a good bet they’ve gotten wet recently.
  7.  They have another interest besides sex.
  6.  You know they’re rich enough to afford windsurfing equipment.
  5.  You always get the latest weather report, several times a day.
  4.  They are capable of commitment, at least to their sport.
  3.  They have no issues about wearing rubber.
  2.  You always know where they are, at least when it’s windy.
  1.  Windsurfers are generally fit, tanned, and have cute butts.

Non-windsurfing men should NOT...repeat NOT...pursue windsurfing women, unless they are prepared to immediately throw themselves into the sport.  Otherwise such men will be surrounded by angry windsurfing men who all seek the great and rare prize:  the girlfriend or wife who windsurfs (the editor is so blessed.)    To squander such a find on a landlubber is an offense to those of us who sheet in!   

(There is the opinion held by a small minority that it is a drag to be a man whose significant other windsurfs...you probably have to rig for them, they use your equipment etc. but generally speaking the willingness of such wahines to make every vacation a windsurfing vacation, to understand why the garage needs to be packed with tons of expensive wet gear etc. outweighs the rigging/sharing concerns.  Discussion of such matters is encouraged.)