The Peconic Puffin Windsurfing Blog

Warm(ish) and Blowing Big

Another Spring day, another blazing session at Sebonac Inlet.  Scott, Frank, Jeremy, the Wolf, David, Jonathan and I all starting out on 4.2's and 4.7's.    Conditions when from rain to sun (which killed the wind for 30 minutes) to intermittent dark clouds, and then it really started to blow!   When I came in I needed a 4.2, but within ten minutes it was 3.4 out there or windier.   Mighty Frank himself needed a 3.7!   But the water is warming while the winds keep blowing...soon gloves will be left behind in the van.

(Photo:   The Wolf coming in after being crazy overpowered.)

Spring is Back!

3.7's and 4.2's were the call at Sebonac, as a small crowd including Scott, the Wolf, Frank, Artie and company were making the most of some big west winds.  Sand was blowing off the beach in the gusts, air temps high 30's water temps about the same. 
The previous week we talked about going gloveless but that was a fantasy borne of warmer air...the water is still Chilly.

Me I tweaked my elbow after a couple runs...off to the orthopod for what I hope is no more than a cortisone injection.   Meanwhile Frank took his customary three hour run, whilst everybody else sailed like mortals.   Need to fix my elbow and get back out there!

(Top:  View from the board.   Bottom:  Scott directing traffic.)

Saturday is Looking Good for Windsurfing

That's right, windsurfing.  You wanna fly a kite in 40 knot gusts that's your business.   Thus spake NOAA:

Sat

W winds 25 to 30 kt with gusts up to 40 kt. Seas 8 to 11 ft.

 

West means Sebonac, my friends.   If the forecast holds, look there for the Greater Puffin & Wind Chimp Collective.  Let the Spring Season begin!!

Two Blessed Runs Are Better Than Nothing

I hadn't sailed in four months.   Every day that I coulda woulda shoulda I was nowhere near.    Then pure luck...driving east to take care of some homeowner shit the phone lights up.  It's Scott..."4.7 at Sebonac...come join The Wolf and me!"   Instant change of plans...

Arrived an hour later.  Sunny, beautiful, whitecaps.  The Wolf was already packing it up...he'd been sailing for hours.   But Scott agreed to stay a bit longer.  And of course Frank was there, which meant Frank was sailing (and sailing and sailing).  I remembered how to rig, got into my wetsuit, beachstarted at the freshly dredged shoreline (my right foot stood on dry sand...the nose of my board in the water had five feet of water beneath).  I launched.

OH GOD WINDSURFING FEELS SO GOOD SOO GOOOOOD.   The pleasure spread through my arms and back and legs.    Reached for about 300 yards and then jibed to make the long starboard reach into deeper water...when the wind died.  No no no.  Shlogged back.

"It'll come back" Frank said.

"I've only got twenty minutes" I said.  This was true.  I really did need to be somewhere else.

Ten minutes later the wind came back.  It was a repeat of the first launch.  Plane out in joy, shlog back.

Still, I felt good.  Much better than when I had arrived.  The 2019 season has begun for me, however briefly!

Malibu Windsurfing on Snowy Fifth Avenue

Walking through blowing snow yesterday in Manhattan I did not expect to run into anything windsurfy.  Wrong.   This tiny patch reached out to me through a shop window.   Windsurfing in Malibu sounds good to me (in July)!

2019: The Year of the Peague?

David:  "Happy Year of the Pig!" (which it indeed is, beginning today on Chinese New Year.)

Me:  "Besides bacon, what does it give us to look forward to?"

Jake:  "Summer foiling at Napeague?"

Wilson:  "The Year of the Peague!"

There you have it.

Cold Weather Windsurfing, Old School

I like this photo, posted on Facebook in the Old School Windsurfers group.   Stick a rig in a small iceberg and sail clew first!    I wonder how that thing helitacks.   But he's not a lone cold-weather sailing fool...the fishing boats in the background may be in port, but windsurfers got their sessions in.   

They embarrass me...six weeks into winter and I don't have Winter Session One under my belt.   Pathetic.

Blown Off the Water at Mattituck!

Hot Damn! Or is it Cold Damn!   Either way, that's windy!   I was not there myself to be so overpowered, but Frank and Scott were.   Huge warm (50ish) winds from the south drew those who could make it to Mattituck.   Following the text feed from Chimply Lord Scottworth (the Earl of Kielt) Frank arrived first, pronouncing the conditions "4.2 and no ice".   Well that works!   Scott soon joined him, sailing for about an hour before he was duly blown off the wet Peconic*.  "Thermonuclear" he pronounced it...also shallow (low tide) quite a ways out.  Mattituck is usually good for ramps, but give the wind strength keeping the boards on the water was the priority.

I haven't sailed in two months.    Argh!   Glad for them though...

*"Wet Peconic" at Mattituck.   A quarter mile east word is the bay was frozen.  So place that water temp around 33!

(In the distance we see Frank sheeted out in the big winds, as viewed by Scott from his chariot.)

Windsurfing Photos Are Back?!

(I know, I know...this is pretty thin.  But it's been quiet in Greater Puffindom.    Haven't been on the water in two months...bad timing plus crazy temps at the moment.   Still, we must prattle on!)

When I upgraded my Mac's OS recently, the new "guide to features" featured a number of windsurfing photos.  Usually when you see these in frames in art shops the pictures are from the 1980's, when sails were colorful sheets of dacron or whatever.   Nothing made in the last two decades.    But Behold!  Apple is using new shots.  I didn't know Gaastra was still in business, but the boards in their photos are definitely late model freestyle rides.  Noyce.

Return to Nuking Sebonac

This time was better.

-The dredging boat left (hand took such a pounding from the big chop and gusts that we were worried the boat would flip) so the water was clear and the air sweet.

-Some puffins (bird puffins) were flying around, coming out of Bullhead bay to bless the sesh.

The Wolf went 3.7 (good call)...Scott and I opted for 4.2's, which worked for a bit.   The chop was so disorganized that it was hard to sail fast...lit is fine when board speed is 30+...when it's 20ish that rig is YANKING.    Into these conditions inexplicably appeared John Natalie, who may need to surrender his "I only sail when it's perfect" middle name.    But sail we did.

Young Eric arrived after awhile, and was out in the mess sailing switchstance!   I got dropped once when I caught a rail in the messy water, and he's switchstance.   #humbled.    

I love sailing this time of the year.  So much wind.  Too much wind lately...would love to get out on a 4.7!

A Million Pageviews of PP

What is surely the most ridiculous windsurfng blog in the history of windsurfing blogdom recorded it's millionth pageview yesterday.   The culprit page was from the Reasons To Hate Mike Burns series, in this case Reason To Hate Mike Burns #211: Looping a Sunset Slalom.   Mike up and moved to Hatteras recently, and when last we saw him in social media he and Chrissy were sailing in shorties...this whilst my drysuit is drying on a hanger.  Another reason to hate him.

But we digress.

Thanks to everyone who looks at this thing and doesn't send hate mail!

(P.S.  Don't know why you'd want to, but you can follow Mike Burns here.)

 

Blown Off The Water

I was last to arrive.  

"What's the sail call?"

Scott said 3.7.   I said I had a 4.2 and a 3.4.  He did not blink:  3.4 was his call.

"But it doesn't look that windy!"

Scott rolled his eyes.  This happens often.  He puts up with me.  "Walk down to the water" he said.

I didn't get three steps before I was in the full blow.  Sh** it was windy.   And the wind smelled like sh**   Bullhead bay was being dredged, with the outflow into the Peconic, and the currents being what they were were were launching in mucky water that reeked.   

"Motivation to not blow a jibe" Frank would later say (after his customary 90 minute nonstop sesh.)

Scott and the Wolf had already been out.  Frank launched, and Jan, Bruce, Christian, John Natalie, Arty and I rigged and went.  Or attempted to.   My first launch I was fully overpowered...my sail was bucking like it was misrigged.   I sailed a few hundred yards and then just layed the rig down.  Kicked it around and sailed back.  Jan was right behind me.   Word was that if you made it a quarter mile out things calmed down some.    But soon everyone came in and hid behind the dredge pipes waiting for the wind to back off...to 30.   
Finally it did, the Wolf launched, and I said "if the Wolf is sailing then so must I!"  Scott agreed.   

I launched, and was okay for about a quarter mile.  Then it came up again.   Back to Stink Beach to give up, and watch others tailwalking (except for Frank.  Frank is different.   Frank on his 4.2)

Would have liked to cut that wind in half and had two days of 20!

(Top:  Arty, Jan, the Wolf, Scott and Christian shelter in the lee to contemplate monster gusts.  Bottom:  The Wolf says sometimes walking away means you get to sail another day.)

 

There Be Wind A Comin'

Thus spake NOAA:

Friday:  SW winds 15 to 20 kt with gusts up to 25 kt. Seas 6 to 8 ft. Showers. Vsby 1 to 3 nm.

 

Saturday:  SW winds 15 to 20 kt with gusts up to 25 kt, increasing to 20 to 25 kt with occasional gusts up to 35 kt in the afternoon. seas 6 to 9 ft, building to 8 to 11 ft in the afternoon.

 

What say ye, windy folk?

Three Days Napeagueing

There were several reasons for me to have Napeague on the brain last week:

-My dinged knee would fair better on flatter water than in Meschutt/Iron Pier/West Meadow conditions,

-Wilson had acquired a bunch of exotic foiling gear,

-A reprise of a wonderful session with Wilson and David last October was past due.

So with knee brace and loaded van I was Peaguebound.

Friday afternoon winds were west and moderate…me on the 6.2, Wilson rigged a bit bigger, and we were on Reach and Jibe patrol. Nothing fancy, just a good lead in to the weekend. My bad knee didn’t like having its attendant foot in the front strap much, so I babied it.   Nothing like trying to coddle an injury while committing to a jibe to induce mediocrity, but still it was fun to be out there on flat and friendly water.

Saturday winds were southerly and light, but to a bunch of ABKers it was catnip.   Wilson took out a foil and had his longest foiling reach yet…I’d guestimate it at 75 yards fully elevated.   I was out on the 6.2 and managed to pump to a plane a few times, jibe once, otherwise it was mostly helitacks and pivot jibes. David, Lili and Dana were also out for various stretches doing the nonplaning thing.   Followed by gin and tonics and a fine dinner, it was a good day of sailing.

Sunday it nuked.   Eyeballing it I thought a 4.7 was the call, and despite Wilson and David's local advice to rig smaller I went out with too much sail. After two runs rigged down to 4.2, where I was again lit to overpowered (note to self: always defer to local knowledge!) David somehow made a 4.4 work, while Wilson took a few runs and thought better of it.   It wasn’t just the wind (3.7 would probably have been perfect)…there were uncharacteristically sets of waves coming into the beach. If you hit them right on port they made for nice jumps, but generally speaking beach break is not what Napeague is known for!

It was punishing but good fun…I bagged it early for my knee, and David wanted to return the harness he borrowed from Lili (on account of she said she’d kill him if he left with it.) Top:  Michael outbound.  Middle:  David inbound.   Bottom:  We shall live to sail another day (Lili got her harness back).  Photos by Wilson.

Eye High Chop at Meschutt (with Knee Brace)

"Eye High Sir" said Scott.   Aye Aye and soforth.   The chop was big at Meschutt Friday in the first big NW blow of the season, and the jumping was sweet for those who could.  Scott, the Wolf, Jonathan, John Natalie, George Pav, Diane and Arty all took their shots at the sky.

Your humble editor not so much.   I hadn't windsurfed in a month, since spraining some knee ligaments, but today I thought I'd see how recovered I am by sailing with my knee brace.    I know I know, 4.2 at rampalicious Meschutt was less than ideal, but I go where the fun is.

Three runs and I was done.   I could sail, even jibe dry, but the knee started chirping, the big beautiful chop was unusable by me, so I chose to get off the water and get back to healing.   Soon behind me came Arty, whose face had interacted with his boom, and between the blood and the need to catch the Orient Pt. Ferry he too wrapped it up.

C'est la knee.   Maybe next week.