The Peconic Puffin Windsurfing Blog

White Caps, Sun, Firing Sandbar!

That's the text I got from Christian at Sebonac Inlet, and it was spot on.  Also Windy!

I was lit to overpowered on my 4.2...must learn how to properly rig my 3.7...and when I wasn't overpowered it was glorious.  The sand bar was sending evenly spaced wavelets across the reach, to jump or to S turn for fun.   

Unfortunately for me it was often two knots more than I could handle, and with limited time (family obligations) I chose overpowered to rerigging.  Will work out the kinks of the 3.7 on the next windless day (backyard project) so that I can rip comfortably when it blows like that again.

On the scene:  Scott, Christian, Frank, Marty, Jonathan, Bruce, and Jan arrived as I drove away.

Sun index:  I got color on my face even while wearing sunscreen.

Cold index:  Didn't need gloves at SJ last Friday, but they were necessary today.   I'm optimistic it was the last gloved day of the Spring.

(Top:  Lord Scotworth leaps on starboard.  Bottom:  Jon Ford airs it out on port.  Photos courtesy Mike O'Connor.)

 

You Call This 4.7? Almost Windy at Ess Jay

Scott said it was 4.7.  He certainly had RIGGED a 4.7.  Christian rigged a 5.something.  But nobody was sailing.  Not much in the way of whitecaps either.   But word was the wind was coming, so I rigged a 4.7.   Everyone who rigged went small, while Jon Ford and Peconic Jeff watched (yes, Peconic Jeff make a rare appearance!  No gear though...he brought a camera to shoot the windsurfing, if any happened.)   All that higher wind gear laying on the South Jamesport beach, dry.

The first move was to put a bigger board under one's 4.7.  I'm usually on 77 liters for 4.7 so I went for my 93.   Then I watched someone shlogging on 100 liters so I grabbed the trusty 109.   One hundred nine liters, 70 cm wide, with a 34cm fin...NOT what the windsurfing gods intended for 4.7 sailing, but I wanted to plane, and so I sometimes did.    Me Scott Artie George Christian and others doing the on-off for a couple hours.

Scott said the big winds would come an hour later, so Artie and I called the spouses to request late passes.  And got them.  But as the wind died further I bailed and went home.  Artie dubbed it "the day that never was."   Such is windsuffering.

(Scott excitedly waiting for the late blow to begin.  Pic by Artie)

Old School Fins

I don't know how well they worked, but they make for a pretty poster!   As seen in the Old School Windsurfers Facebook group.

Arctic Artie Asks "Where Is Everyone?"

The dude is hardcore.  Last Friday while usual suspects like Scott and myself hid from the low thirties air temps, Artie and Frank Strobel were on it a Meschutt.  "Yes I froze my Tuckus off, BUT…Meschutt delivered with some very nice port ramps and fun hero jibes on the inside…not really trying to think about the wind chill in the lower 20’s!!"  Thus spake Art (ie).  For me I continue to hold out for 40 degrees (36 in full sun).  Maybe soon?!

(Frank on starboard, Artie on port.  Photo courtesy the frozen one.)

When Spring Comes

Winter Windsurfing will soon be over.

Not that I mind winter windsurfing…give me 40 degrees (36 if it’s sunny) and I’ll hop on a 4.7 or 4.2 any day! No high winds in the summer!

But these are not the days for working on moves.   I’m not trying to hit duck tacks or trick jibes when falling means an ice cream headache!   No thank you.   With longer days and the prospect of putting away the drysuit and gloves, I’m thinking about the coming season.                       

What do I want? What do I need?

A new boom…that’s for sure.   My best is 14 years old…not exactly what I have in mind for windsurfing in the ocean or Gardiners Bay.

A planing duck tack. I’ve been wanting this move for a long time, but finding the right practice conditions (flat water, 5 meter winds with a cheater board) and then focusing (crashing) for a few hours, well…that’s what I’ve got to do! Crack open Trictionary, memorize the steps and channel Andy Brandt.   I can hit them in light wind but planing have never come close.   What gets me are all the freestyle moves that BEGIN with ducking the sail to backwinded while planing.  When I started windsurfing that was officially impossible!   I must find my planing duck!   And I think I’ll throw in donkey jibes for fun (I’ve hit them but never planed out.)

Foiling.   Do I take the plunge?   It’s out there.

Spring is four days away.   The mind wanders…

(Photo:  Duck jibes are a piece of cake.  Yet the duck tack eludes me.)

Wild Winds at Sebonac. Crazy Wild.

You would have thought someone was playing a joke on us.  Someone with their hands on the wind control panel.   The craziest and most tormenting winds that I've ever seen, and Lord Scotworth agreed.   A rigging fest like no other.

It began with Scott, Christian and I, all rigging 5.3-5.4.   Scott took the first run.  Nothing.   Barely planed out, shlogged back.  The whitecaps that were suddenly weren't.  

About fifteen minutes later they were back. Scott launches.   Then returns to the beach.

"It's 4.7!"

We all derig the 5's and rig 4.7's.   About this time Frank shows up, and rigs a 4.7.

I got one run in, lit but happy, and came to shore to add downhaul.  While I was adding downhaul sand began to blow in my face so I hid my head behind the board.   What I was too foolish to realize (but had Scott and Christian laughing) was that the wind had built to 4.0.  I went to get my smallest board, but by the time I got to the beach it was too windy to walk with it.  Stashed it against the bulkhead, carried my 4.7 back to the van and derigged.

Frank launched on something like a 4.0 and a tiny board as sand was blowing down the road.

Then the wind dropped.  Frank was shlogging.  Scott Christian and I rerigged our 4.7's.   Just as I finished the wind came back up to 3.4 conditions.   Liquid smoke on the bay.  It was comedy.

Then it dropped again, I put the 4.7 (now rigged twice) on a 93 liter board and got four or five runs in as the wind spun Northwest and got C O L D.

Time to go.

In summation, Scott rigged four sails and sailed three of them.  Christian rigged six times, changing between three different sails.  I rigged thrice with two sails, and got on the water with one.  

Not a lot of actual windsurfing took place.   It was nuts.

(Photo:  A portion of Christian's rigged gear.)

Frank Messina R.I.P.

Frank Messina died this week.  Out of the blue, totally unexpected.  A loved member of the Long Island windsurfing community, leader of beach cleanups, ambassador of stoke.   He and his wife Lauralee were crucial inspirations to me early in my windsurfing life...1993.  I wrote "The Legend of Frank and Lauralee" eleven years ago telling the story.   Frank was a good man...any day sailing with Frank was better because of him.  He will be missed.

(Photo by Frank's friend Jill).

Shark Ready For His Closeup. The Photographer Not So Much.

I'm sure this Great White means no harm.   He's just curious.  Wants to see what's going on.  Then wants to eat the participants.

Borrowed from the discoveryocean Instragram feed (recommended!)