...there I am at South Jamesport, chasing the ever speedy Scott in the distance. In a shorty. Not a DRYSUIT!!! I am ready for summer shortboarding.
This was a first. And a second. in the municipal parking lot at South Jamesport (Scott's fave because it specifies "no permits required") Jan and I were rigging for moderate conditions...me a 5.4, her a 4.7. Suddenly a car with two little old ladies drove through...through and right over my mast! Jan said "did they just drive over your mast?" As I said yes a SECOND car drove over my mast with the front tires, then stopped. A smiling driver said "Are you Michael?" And then "Did I just drive over your mast?"
"Yes and Yes" I replied. I was meeting Dilay, previously unencountered LI windsurfer and moderator of the LI Active group on Facebook.
Back to my mast. It had just been run over twice! Or three times (or 1.5 depending on how you figure these things.). But there had been no telltale crack of damage or destruction. Examining the mast it seemed fine. This was due to the unusual surface of the parking lot, which is square stones with grass in between. Through sheer luck my mast was only on top of grass, so between the soil giving and the mast deforming, t'warnt no damage. Hurray.
So we sailed. Jan and I had a couple moderately powered runs when Scott and the Wolf arrived. I was on my cheater 109, but the last run turned out to be full powered so I grabbed my 93 instead. Good call! Soon Scott, the Wolf, Marty, then Dilay and finally Bruce were on the water as well, and for a couple hours we had proper 5.3 SJ conditions before it died.
A pair of reckless cabin cruiser captains crowded Dilay...not an issue we normally run into...and Jan interposed herself to keep the boats at bay. Must look out for the rare idiot at the helm.
(photo: my mast was happily lined up between the stones.)
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!
At one moment during the up and down madness of Elsa's winds, it kicked in a solid 40+. Note the garbage can in front of the car in the photo...that can had been 50 feet upwind a moment before. We watched as the whitecaps were ripped apart by the gust, and then when things settled down decided to rig (rerig for Scott, who already had a 3-something on a mast.) 4.2 for the Earl of Kielt and me, 4.1 for Christian, whilst the Wolf opted for 3.7. Good calls all.
Things didn't start out this way. Pouring rain with no wind in the morning...would Elsa be a washout? Then the meters to the west started jumping and Scott headed to Sebonac. He texted "3.7! It will last for an hour!"
I jumped in my van as the trees overhead went from calm to buffeted by 30 mph gusts. Arrived at Sebonac to find...wait for it...no wind. But a wall of clouds was coming so we were patient, then rewarded by flying garbage cans and then 4.2 gusting to 3.7 (I probably should have been on the 3.7).
After 90 minutes of good times I smashed my hand in a blown jibe (boom/hand/board/blood) and so got to rip downwind overpowered in big chop with one hand. Good times. In the parking area some of the guys were taking a break, and we watched some boating fool launch out of Bullhead Bay ("alone" Christian observed) head out about three hundred yards directly into the wind, then tried to turn around ("this isn't going to be good" several of us said"). He then proceeded to turn 360 degrees twice (freestyling?) before heading back, now wearing his life vest. Good decision.
Artie arrived as I bandaged up and the wind dropped some. "5.4" he guestimated, and I concurred. "Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to rig and fly." Artie rigged and flew, while I grabbed neosporin and large band aids.
Can't remember the last time I got a headache after a dunking...January? Arctic Artie dubbed yesterday Frigid Friday, and it was cold. Or it seemed cold. 4.7's for Scott and me, Christian on a 5.0, and Artie arrived late to sail 5.4. Big holes meant shlogging, but when the wind came up we were lit. Looking forward to retiring the gloves for the season (two weeks ago at SJ they weren't needed.) Shred on!
Set to a a slow cool cover of the Beatles "Come Together" is quite a cinematic piece of work for Mercedes Benz. The upshot of the commercial is that all Mercedes factories in Germany are planned to be powered solely by renewable resources by 2022 (next year). In the many bits of imagery in the spot is a few seconds of a man getting into his wetsuit, with a rigged sail and board by his feet. No resort sailor this, the guy looks like a Long Island regular launching in April. Come together!
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.)
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)
I don't know how well they worked, but they make for a pretty poster! As seen in the Old School Windsurfers Facebook group.
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.)
Recent Comments