The Peconic Puffin Windsurfing Blog

Uni Dos Break

I've never had a uni break on me.   Always believed in the safety strap (prevent rig separation, emergency sail home) but had never actually needed it.

Sunday at Mecox with OG Puffin Steve (Peconic Puffin since 1993) conditions were marginal 6.3.   I launched first, and was mixing jibes when I could plane with tacks and helitacks when I could not.  Steve was still rigging on the beach when one of my heli's felt odd.  Was the boom loose?  I checked...no it was fine.  Found myself shlogging then looked down...what the heck was the base of the mast doing so far downwind of the mast track?

Ah.

So I shlogged gingerly back to the launch, where I showed Steve my severed tendon.  He looked at me...the reason he was taking so long to rig was that he'd found his own uni had split.   Never happened to him before either, and he'd been windsurfing since the 1980's (I started in '92).  Go figure!

East is a Beast at SJ

Okay not a BEAST exactly, but after previous joy in ENE we came with high expectations.  The thing is straight east gets bumpy out there...bumpy and deep as the bays fill up.  Still we sailed 4.7...Artie, the Wolf, Scott, Pav and David.

"What a difference between ENE and East," Scott commented.  We'd had an excellent session at South Jamesport back in August during an ENE blow, and had hoped for the same yesterday.   But t'was not the same.  The normally smooth SJ was quite bumpy...disorganized chop with only the occasional jumping ramp, and modest swell.   Tiana might make for more enjoyable sailing the next time its East and we're not in the ocean.

Around 3PM as we started to tire the wind increased to something like 4.2.  We each began to call it a day when David decided to take one more run.  While adjusting his outhaul we spotted a major crack in his uni.   A "there's no frickin' way you're going out on 40 degree water in 30mph gusts with that uni" crack.   We are grateful for discovering this on the beach and not after a rescue operation!

(Photo of le craque courtesy David.)

Drowning Doesn't Look Like Drowning

"There is very little splashing, no waving, and no yelling or calls for help of any kind. "

So how do you know someone is in trouble?   We waterpeople need to stay on top of this.  We aren't doing our thing in swimming pools or public beaches with lifeguards keeping an eye on us.  We depend on ourselves and each other.   When someone is down in the water...no matter how good a sailor or surfer we know them to be...we need to be mindful of this.    What are the signs?  All of this from an excellent article on what to look for:

• Head low in the water, mouth at water level
• Head tilted back with mouth open
• Eyes glassy and empty, unable to focus
• Eyes closed
• Hair over forehead or eyes
• Not using legs—vertical
• Hyperventilating or gasping
• Trying to swim in a particular direction but not making headway
• Trying to roll over on the back
• Appear to be climbing an invisible ladder

Read Slate's article yourself:  Drowning Doesn't Look Like Drowning.

Frank Rides the Tide: Storming at The Bowl

(Scott wants this post to be all about Frank's rounding the horn of the Shinnecock Jetty.  I want to tell the story of the day in order.  If you want Scott's version skip down to the bottom.  Here's my version:)

Wind and pouring rain at the Bowl.  That's how it always is for a good Bowl session.   But Friday was particularly so!   I arrived to find Scott, Frank, Jeff and Jeremy (the man in Gumby Green) getting their 4.7 on (that's 5.0 to Frank).  Rigged my own as Bruce arrived.   

"I don't know if I want to rig" Bruce said, eyeing the howling misery of the rain.

"That's the thing about the Bowl," I reminded him.  "We all remember the windsurfing but forget that it was raining!"

Rigged we did, launched we did.  My first time in the ocean in six months, so I was tentative.  Also perhaps I was tentative because the swell on the outside was 6 feet plus.  Blew my nervous Nellie jibe, and sailed back to shore to adjust a footstrap (on the 93 FSW which hadn't been sailed all winter).  Happily everyone else was sailing to shore as well.  To advise me on footstrap trim?  No!  Seems that everyone was overpowered now, and I was just too out of balance to notice that I was overpowered too.

So we all rigged down.  Except for Frank, who stayed out there on his 5.0.  Frank is, after all, not like the rest of us.

Bruce and I brought our freshly rigged 4.2's down and watched Frank sail, as we hemmed and hawed in the rain.   Then the craziest rainiest gust of all time came through.  Seriously.  50 mph winds and perhaps two inches of rain in ten minutes...the water drops were ripping up the beach as they hit.  Visibility was perhaps 50 feet.  Thank goodness we were all on shore.  Except for Frank.   

But the squall soon stopped, Frank appeared, and all was well.   Frank relaunched, followed by Bruce, and I watched and waited, as the wind seemed to have dropped a lot.   Bruce was shlogging so I decided to call it a day.

Just as I got to my van I heard Scott shout out "Frank is going through the inlet!"   The deal at the Bowl is to not get too near the inlet to Shinnecock Bay during incoming tide, lest you fall, not be able to waterstart, and have the incoming tide suck you through.   Lots of current, and swirling eddies to boot make it quite difficult...I've almost gone through in the past, but never actually.

Frank actually.

The trick is to go all the way through the inlet...don't try and get out over the rocks on the side...and then get out on the Shinnecock Bay side and walk your gear back (or walk back, get your car and drive back to your gear).  Frank took the ride as Bruce and Jeremy kept an eye on him from the jetty whilst Scott and Jeff drove to the bay side to meet him, and I did some of each.   One thing about windsurfing: it's nice to have friends who look out for you!   So Frank hogged the spotlight for another 20 minutes, then emerged, proclaiming that he'd had a great 5.0 session.  And he had!

(Top:  Frank talks about the weather to Bruce and Jeremy as he passes through Shinnecock Inlet.  Note the color of Jeremy's wetsuit.  When asked about the green, he replied that the wetsuit was from Portugal.  In Portugal they know how to make a green wetsuit.  Bottom:  Text from Lord Scotworth encapsulating the day much more efficiently than I could!  Photo by Jeff Schultz.)

Drowning Doesn't Look Like Drowning

Drowning does not look like drowning.  I didn't know that.   We who play in the water need to know what it does look like, so we can take effective action.   Read this article on drowning and check out its accompanying video (or watch it below.)   And check out my2fish's story about how easily one can find themselves in trouble.

This isn't the first time The Peconic Puffin has lifted water safety information from Bonnie Queen of the Kayak Bloggers, and her blog Frogma.  Thanks again Bonnie!

Crash and Bleeding

Where is the safest place to windsurf on Eastern Long Island?  Friendliest water? Least chance of mishap?  You may want to say Napeague but it’s got to be Mecox.

Yeah well...

Windsurfing at the Yacht Club Saturday with Christian...mellow sesh on a 7.5/109, sharing the water with a pair of kiteboarders.  The bay was extra shallow, as the Cut had apparently been opened recently.  In the SW wind I was on port tack heading towards the northern limit of the bay (lots of sea shells and live mollusks) on a full plane, with a kiter  straight downwind of me.   It was starting to get tight...the bay gets quite shallow at that end (where the wind also picks up a knot to give you extra zip in your jibe) but the guy would just not stop or turn or do anything*, and like the fool I am I kept waiting.  Started my jibe way too late. 

The fin hit hard.

I knew enough about that part of the bay to raise my arms in front of my face.  If you’re going to get cut to ribbons, better limbs than nose lips eyes.

Christian sailed up shortly thereafter, pronounced me “considerate” the kiter not so, and noted the condition of my right arm and leg. 

“That ends this sesh,” I proclaimed, and sailed back to the launch, to grab the first aid kit I’ve assembled and rarely used.   A quart of rinse water, half a tube of Neosporin, and ten bandages later I was good to go home.

Still managed to windsurf Sunday for awhile, until my left hand started bleeding from one of the cuts.

*I did not have right of way, but there is some basic level of consideration called for on the water.  You don't hold your course to make someone else stop completely or run aground when you have a dozen other options.  IMHO.

Also note:  I was thinking about titling the post "Unhappy and Bleeding"...a play on Happy and Bleeding, which was the name of Christian's last movie until he changed it to Love Sick Love.  The old title was better for the Peconic Puffin.  Where are his priorities?

(Photo:  Right elbow area, after some nice neat rebandaging at home.  Not shown:  Right knee, right hand, left hand.)

Windsurfing Hurricane Sandy...A Safety Note

The prospects of windsurfing a storm like Sandy gets everyone excited.   I was glad to read a post from Billy T in the Long Island windsurfing bulletin board, that I've excerpted:

"Depending on the direction, and the force of the wind, there will probably be crap floating in the water.  Keep Joe in mind when the storm sailing hype starts, sail safe."

Joe was the great and mighty Joe Rocco, an excellent windsurfer and storm sailor who died when he hit floating debris following Hurricane Irene last year.

Be careful.  Wear a helmet.  Keep Joe in mind when the storm sailing hype starts. If the storm really tears things up, sailing immediately afterwards might be a terrible idea.

R.I.P. Joe.

Check Your Inhaul!

Break your outhaul, and you can retie it in a minute.

Break your downhaul, it will take several minutes of fuss but you'll be able to sail back to shore.

Break your inhaul, whaddayagonnadu?  Unhook your uphaul and lash the boom to the mast?  I don't want to have to try it.

Futzing with the gear in my van one recent windless day I spotted the nick in my inhaul.  Closer examination revealed that it was not minor.   So out with the heat gun and a brand spanking new downhaul line and I'm back in business.  If only there was some wind.

When was the last time you checked your inhaul?   I check mine regularly, and have no idea when the line was damaged.    Check yours!

More Press for The Wolf

The Wolf continued to dominate the media spotlight over weekend, following his dramatic rescue at New Suffolk last week.   “I hope the Giants win so this nonstop Wolf coverage calms down,” Jeff Slecta said to me yesterday (the Giants won but the Peconic Puffin isn’t done just yet!).   

In his latest interview with The Southampton Press the Wolf dazzled reporters, telling them he seeks out extreme conditions all over the world “because that’s what it’s all about”, and “no doubt” he’d go out again in the conditions that found him bobbing sans gear in the South Race (45mph gusts, swell 4-7 feet.)

 

I would ask the Wolf if he needs an agent, but I can already hear his response:  “No.  I’ve got it under control.”

Movie rights are complicated, though.  And will he want approval on casting?  Tom Selleck plays Scott, of course, but who plays the Wolf?  Eastwood is the natural choice but he could be hard to get. 

(scan of the article thanks to Peconic Jeff).

How To Self Rescue On The Water

Ted Bretter has been telling me for months about an old Windsport article that did a thorough job of explaining how to derig at sea.  He told me that it once got him out of quite a jam.  “You’ve got to find a copy,” Ted’s been saying.

Now after the Wolf’s misadventures on the Peconic (getting separated from his gear during at attempted derig) Ted reminded me again.   So I reached out to Windsport windsurfing magazine and said “Hey, a guy here says 8 years ago you had quite the article about emergency derigging...any chance you can find it and republish it?”   In less than an hour it was on Windsport’s website.

Spend some time checking out (I will be).  It is thorough.  It is Ted tested.  And it could save your gear (or your ass.)

Thank you Windsport! Good idea, Ted!

Stashing Emergency Line

You’re out on the water and a line breaks.  Inhaul, outhaul, downhaul, uphaul, harness line…something you need snaps.   You’ll be happier if you’re carrying a piece or two of downhaul line to put yourself back together.   In twenty years of windsurfing  this has only happened to me once (I’m fanatical about checking and replacing worn line) but the time it did I was two miles from the launch and my harness line tore off.   Yes I could have flipped the boom (that’s fun to do in deep water) but instead I pulled out a piece of line, tied it on, and had an improvised harness line  that worked just fine to get me back home.

When I bought a new harness recently I didn’t make a point of stashing emergency line on it (I usually have two downhauls taped behind the bar).  But after Christian’s adventure at sea a few months ago I made a point of correcting that situation (as did Christian).  He and I opt for behind the bar storage, but you can also stash line in the back pocket of your harness if you have one (I don’t want to take my harness off if I don’t have to) or put a piece in the luff sleeve pocket of every one of your sails (requires sails with pockets, and line in each sail).

Do this.   And while you’re at it, replace all your downhaul lines for cold weather sailing (now is not the season you want to use your emergency lines).  Cut off the worn portion of your downhauls and make them your new outhauls.  Check boom inhauls (how often do you do that?)   For super stud status, replace your lines with Formuline if you haven’t already, and glory in easier downhauling and longer line life.

(Looks a little silly, works great.  My purple tape and Christian's blue line both call more attention to the set up than perhaps is necessary.  I'm going to switch to electrical tape in the name of fashion!  Note the orange bit on my rig...that's a safety whistle...less than $5 at Amazon.    Photo by Jeff.)

Windsurfer Adrift At Sea Re-rigs Under Pressure

Christian arrived at the Bowl around high tide.   Scott had already been sailing for a few hours (and I for one) but we were mostly waiting for the tide to go out and the waves to come. 

“I have 90 minutes,” Christian announced, so he quickly rigged a sail, grabbed a board, and launched.   A few other guys decided to take a run as well, but after I took a minute to walk to the van for a swig of water, I could not see Christian on the water.   No biggie, the winds (sail sizes were 5.2-5.8) were up and down, so perhaps a waterstart was proving elusive.   After a few more minutes there is still no sign of Christian.   What did he do, sail into a black hole?

I asked Jeff if he could see him.  No, he can’t, but he has binoculars in his truck, and goes to get them.  The winds were lightening and I was contemplating rigging big gear to go out and look when Scott came planing in (on a 5.8 and bigger board).    Scott, have you seen Christian?   Yes, he has, he spoke with him.

Well what’s happening?

“he quickly rigged a sail...”

     -The Peconic Puffin, two paragraphs ago.

What was happening was Christian was down in the water with a sail that had popped off the mast.   Whilst rigging it quickly the mast tip insert apparently never was seated properly in the mast, and when Christian made his first jibe the sail popped right off.   So now he was in the water rerigging it.   “I told him if he can’t manage it he should roll the sail up and paddle in,” Scott continued. 

Looking out on the water it didn’t look good to me.   For the most part I couldn’t see him at all, but every once in awhile his head and board would bob above the waves as he drifted towards the reef to the west.    Ah, the reef.   The reef where waves will surely make any rigging effort much more challenging.  The reef where on very rare occasions we have seen a ...fish.   Discussion about calling the Coast Guard begins.   Someone says “five more minutes” and I am counting the seconds silently in my head.   I want to see Christian toss the rig and start paddling in...this is way too exciting for me.  Fortunately we are no more than two miles from the Shinnecock Coast Guard station.

Then his sail popped up, Christian waterstarted, and sailed in to the far side of the Bowl, where Jeff met him to help carry his gear back.   

“That’s what you do with your 90 minutes?” I asked?  I am always helpful.

Christian explained that in order to release enough tension in the mast to slide the sail back to the top he had to undo the whole shebang.   He keeps his downhaul line in the extension for neatness (as do I) so he had to separate rig and board (using the uphaul to tether the two for safety.)  The outhaul had to be released.  At one point the mast foot became unthreaded.  But he got it all back together.   Here is an excerpt from an email from Christian this morning:

"Things I learned: I'll never stuff my downhaul in my mast extension again.

I will be looking to buy a new UJ with a longer thread than the Chinook. 

I will be double double checking the male mast head insert in future (duh). 

I will once again ponder the need to carry extra bits and bobs when sailing. Scott pointed out that once upon a time Dakine used to have little pockets on all their harnesses. Makes a ton of sense.

Thanks guys for keeping an eye on me. The sailing in a group system worked perfectly. After I spoke with Scott I never once thought that I was at risk, which allows for a clear head when having to loosen everything you've got tightened some distance from shore. The photo says it all as far as the support that was there if necessary.

Thanks too Jeff for helping carry the gear. I needed a rest at that point!"

Amazing.   Here’s what I learned:

1.  I used to carry an extra piece of line behind my spreader bar.   When I replaced that bar a year ago I did not transfer the line (held in place with duct tape).  I’ll be addressing that before the next session.

2.  Keeping the downhaul shoved into the mast base extension is an elegant way to keep the foot area clear, but it requires rig separation if you’ve got to release the downhaul at sea.    What I’m not clear about is whether it’s possible to get a good angle to reapply downhaul tension with the uni still in the base, but I’ll be experimenting to see.   I think there’s a good  chance I’ll return to stuffing excess downhaul line into the bottom of the sail.

3.  Call 911 if you need the Coast Guard.  Jeff says also:  Coast Guard Search & Rescue for south shore Long Island to NYC: 718-354-4353.  Coast Guard Search & Rescue for CT & north shore Long Island: 203-468-4401

(Top:  Jeff mans the binoculars while CD, Scott and I imagine what we'd have tried out there.  See the waves breaking on the reef in the distance, to the right of the sign?  That's just about where Christian drifted before he successfully sailed back to the beach.  Bottom:  See the speck?  He's alive!  Photos by Keith Schultz.)

What Happened To Joe Rocco?

Joe Rocco, "the Mayor of Heckscher" died windsurfing Hurricane Irene on Sunday.  To meet Joe once was to have a great new windsurfing friend, generous with information, stoke, spirit, you name it.  The new article in Newsday begins "Joseph Rocco, the only Long Islander to die as a result of Tropical Storm Irene, was a friend and mentor to many in the local windsurfing scene, said those who knew him."  And he could sail!  So what happened?   In the Yahoo Long Island Windsurfing bulletin board, his very dear girlfriend Marianne tells this story: 

They drove to Shirley and found one windsurfer already there (James), sailing a 4.1 on a 78 liter board.   They took wind readings of 20-28 mph.  Joe rigged a 3.7 for his Dill, and Marianne rigged a 3.2.   Joe launched to take a few runs “to see if it was too much for me to handle.”  Marianne took another wind reading, and got 45-50.   James came back in as the winds were now too much for him, and Marianne decided not to launch.

Visibility was limited.   A nearby spectator with a telephoto lens on his camera said it looked like Joe was separated from his rig and was following it to shore.   Marianne and James tried walking along the shore to meet Joe where they thought he’d come in, but the beach was mostly gone or covered with debris so they walked down the road.  The police and EMT’s showed up, went out with James to look for Joe, and told Marianne to meet them at Brookhaven Hospital.

Neither the EMT’s nor the hospital was able to resuscitate him.  Marianne said Joe’s head “was very badly banged up, nose probably broken, bruising around his entire upper face.  Something had obviously hit his head very badly and he hopefully didn’t even know what hit him. “

Joe was a skilled windsurfer.    My guess is that he hit a piece of debris floating just beneath the surface, and was catapulted badly into something large and hard in the water.  Floating debris is the hazard we usually don’t think about when storm sailing.  I know I wasn’t looking for it at Mecox during my session, even though I remember things floating around out there after storms in the past.    

Like Rich Simons said in the Yahoo group, this could have happened to any of us.

(photo of Joe on a better day courtesy Bill Doutney)

Crashing Into Jeff (While Jeff Shoots the Video)

It started out as my best wave ride of the day.   It ended with my nearly taking Peconic Jeff's head off.   It all began when Peter and I caught a nice head-high wave on the outer sand bar.    Jeff was about halfway in toward the beach shooting video and taking photos, so my only Jeff thought was "surf well and maybe you'll get a picture!"

I'm not very good in either direction but I'm worse on backside, so when I found myself comfortable and balanced (for me) and feeling in control going left, I was excited.

Usually I find myself too far to the bottom of the wave, and when I managed to bottom turn a bit and get back up the wave for a cutback, I was giddy.   With my eyes riveted on the ten feet of water immediately in front of me, I carved back down the wave.

With my eyes riveted on the ten feet of water immediately in front of me, I am unaware that I am now bearing down on Jeff, who is capturing it all.   He sees my face pointing towards him and assumes that my eyes are along for the ride.

A moment later I see him as he swings the camera down (for I don't know what reason, because he's not yelling at me to be careful.)  I'm going to plow right into his head.   I shouted Jeff's name (leaving off "Peconic" for brevity) and jumped off the board, hoping both to turn it to the left (to miss his head) and lighten it (in case, as I was sure it would, the board hit him.)

The board crashed across the tail of Jeff's board, immediately to the wave side of his head.   Then the wave, which still had plenty of gusto, rolled both boards into Jeff, and then the three of them into me.

There was a good deal of floundering on my part before I got back to the surface.   Incredibly no blood was gushing from Jeff's head.   At first glance neither board was damaged (which seemed impossible,) so shaken and with concern for our gear (and me apologizing a mile per minute) we returned to the beach.

Incredibly, the boards had some minor scratches but no damage.   I was nauseous for about an hour...I KNEW I was about to seriously injure a friend, and the endless moment kept replaying in my head.  Jeff's been very gracious about this.  Me, I feel I was lucky. I haven't been on the water since, but I believe that when I return I'm going to be paying an enormous amount of new attention to people in the water all around me, as I do windsurfing.   A newbie level of awareness doesn't cut it.  Hell, a newbie level of awareness should still be better than mine last Sunday.  Writing this post has brought the feeling of nausea back.

Here's the video Jeff shot.   It all happens pretty fast so I slowed it down.   Keep watching and it plays again in real time, complete with my shout.

 

Safety, and an otherwise fine session at The Bowl

None of us had windsurfed in waves since December.   Sweet long lefts were breaking 4-6 feet at the Bowl (with the occasional meaty seven-footer rolling through to really catch your attention) in side off winds.   The Wolf was out first, and he was back first, as he’d hit the water with his drysuit less than fully zipped.

This is hugely uncool.

Allow me to be alarmist for a moment (John is, was, and always will be fine, but please indulge me):    We’re sailing in water cold enough to induce hypothermia and kill anyone.   The drysuits change it into a playground, but only if they’re working.   Imagine launching with an unknowingly unzipped drysuit…you have a good run out, jibe off swell a few hundred yards out, and catch your first wave.   You don’t fall, remain unaware of your unzipped state, jibe on the inside and now head way to the outside where you see some big beautiful waves setting up.   Jibing a quarter mile out you fall, and take on three gallons of ice-cold water.   Realizing that you never zipped up (as you shout, crosseyed in discomfort) you set up to waterstart as fast as you can.  But the wind is a bit light, so you can’t get any power in the sail at all when you’re in a trough, and as some swell brings you back up into the wind, twenty extra pounds of water in your drysuit prevents you from getting back up on the board. The cycle repeats.

After a minute of this you are in trouble.  Maybe it’s three minutes before one of your friends (on shore, taking a break during the lull) comes out to check on you.    Now you are unable to sail, and your friend has to figure out how to get you on your board and somehow drag your icy ass back to shore before your heart stops beating.  (Hey while we’re having so much fun reading this post, hop on over here and read a bunch of stories about hypothermia deaths in cold water.)

Okay, you say, will you please relax?  Who hasn’t launched with an unzipped drysuit, Mr. Editor of the Peconic Puffin?  Haven’t you?

Of course I have.  We all have.    And like most all of us most of the time all I ended up with was a cold back and a quick scare.   But sailing in the ocean things can get complicated.   And at the Bowl yesterday with the currents swirling near the jetty, the winds up and down and forecasted to turn increasingly offshore, the Wolf’s little episode put safety front and center in our minds.

So to the great disappointment of the two seals hanging out on the inside and rating our jibes, we called it a day after a few hours.   “I’ve sailed the Bowl for twenty years…I know when to quit,” said the Wolf.    And we all resolved to double check our drysuit zippers in the future.