Lapras for Sale!

Time to sell another boat. This time it's the big one.

Well maintained 2005 Catalina 250 Wing Keel.

• Galvanized Trail-Rite trailer
• Honda 8hp extra long shaft
• Standard rig, 110% headsail, tiller steering
• tiller pilot, chart plotter, depth/fish finder, whisker pole

Asking 20,900 OBO. Moving, must sell.

Too Busy

Too busy to sail
When I do sail, too busy to make the video about it (but thankfully Luigeee let me submit my entry late)
When I do get the video done, too busy to say much about it other than:

My entry in the Catch The Weta photo/video contest. Some great photos and video submitted by fellow Weta fans.



Vote here: http://www.catchtheweta.com/vote-now.html

What Happened to Summer?

Six straight Summer weeks without sailing? Ack! What happened? Where did the time go? I can't believe the High Sierra Regatta was the last time I left hard ground. Don't know what to say. All I know is I awoke from a nap Friday afternoon and checked my email. At the top of the list was "Sailing?," a note from Dean. Sure, why not? And, this is what we did:

Lido Next?

Three different years, three different boats, three different scraps of burlwood. Hmmm, maybe young Kara is right, I have a streak going here that needs continuing. The more I race at Huntington Lake, the more things transition from frustrating to stimulating. It really doesn't seem to matter what boat I'm in or whom I'm racing against. It's always challenging; it's always enlightening; it's always about the lake.


OK, that's not really true. Thankfully the "whom" is always there for all the great camaraderie ashore no matter what classes they're sailing alake. But, out on the water it is all about solving the wind over water puzzle that gets the boat up and down the lake faster than anybody else. Sure, everybody has read the "primer" that's been posted on the regatta website for years. My first year sailing the lake (as an adult anyway) I was surprised that Charles Witcher, who as far as I knew had never lost even a single race on this lake, would willingly share all of his secrets. I read that sheet over and over for several days prior to the regatta. Charles would be sailing in the same class as me, Megabytes, and his fellow lake guru, Craig Lee, had borrowed a boat to join in the fun. Well, the study didn't help as those two guys left me so far behind that I could hardly see them. It was very frustrating as I seemed to be doing everything wrong.

The next year, back in the Megabyte chasing Charles, I decided to not try to be so smart and instead just sail conservatively and easy. Low and behold, I started to recognize some patterns first hand, "feeling" the lake in a sort of Tarzan, maybe George 'o Jungle, swinging kind of way. I still got my butt kicked, but at least I was close enough to see the butt on the guy who was doing it to me. Bu year three, I was Megabyteless and jumped in to crew for Dean on the Vanguard. Maybe it was the two years of dues paying experience or maybe it was the observer friendly vantage point from the crew spot, but I really started to feel good on the lake for the first time. More than half the time, we were in sync with the advantages. The racing was outstanding at the front, the best I'd ever been involved in. The lake felt fun for the first time.

Well, for 2011 it was Weta time, and we had a truly amazing turnout, 15 signed up, for the class' debut on Huntington Lake. A trimaran is an odd boat, and I was uncertain if we'd be able to apply the "classic" approaches. Would the windshifts be worth chasing in a relatively slow tacking boat? Would it be possible to stay in pressure downwind while sailing hot angles?

My compass told me that each shift was typically 15 to 20 degrees with some as large as 40! Catching the right side of those while staying in pressure is a huge advantage. I managed to do that most of the time upwind, but downwind I was mostly just flailing about hoping to get lucky. Race 2 was the only one I managed to get it a little figured out. Finding some big fat port tack headers down the North side of the lake allowed me to make some big gains after my very late start. In dead down wind boats like the Megabyte and Vanguard 15, the Huntington Lake downwind tactics are relatively simple--keep the boat pointed at the leeward mark and slide left or right to stay in pressure, gybing as needed depending on how significant the shift is. The Weta, on the other hand, needs to be kept hot downwind with gybing angles near 90 degrees. I guess that makes the downwind tactics about the opposite of the upwind tactics, and I just couldn't figure out how to sail fast and think backwards at the same time.

Frustrating or exhilarating on the water, Huntington has always been a blast on the beach, around the campsites, and all. This year was no exception with big Weta turnout--most with full families joining in the fun (both on and off the water.) So, what'll it be next year? Great, of course, but which boat? I really need another crack at learning the lake downwind Weta style, but Dean and I also chatted up the possibility of borrowing his dad's Lido 14 to have a try in that class--perennially, one of the biggest at the regatta. Whichever, it'll be great. The only problem will be trying to fit so many class party appearances into a short weekend. Hmmm, Wetas for cocktails, ex-Megabytes (Folsom Lake crowd) for Mexican potluck, Lidos for dessert, and a nightcap with the Vanguards at Catavee.


The boats will come and go, carrying us upwind and down. The friendships will be treasured, filling us with good feelings from year to year.

Dear Kara

Thanks for going sailing with your dad and me on the Weta last Saturday. The sun was warm, the wind wash fresh, and you were great crew. I'm glad you didn't mind getting wet, soaked really. Once your dad started driving, it was pretty much impossible to get him to slow down--too much fun!

After the sailing, I hope your kayak practice went well--that'll be a good skill for Huntington Lake. I know my tacking practice will pay off. It seemed the one hand for the tiller, one for the sheets, cross behind the back technique was fastest (at least in the protected marina conditions.) Let's compare notes this weekend.

See you soon,
Mr. Anderson.

Shortcoursing Monoslugs

From battling twelve fourteen-foot trimarans up a mile and a half beat for two days on the open bay to bangin' out eight college-style shortcourse races in a couple-a-hours against seven fifteen-foot Vanguards, it's been a great week of sailing. It's July already, and I only just got out with Fleet 76 for the first time this season, and last night was perfect--relatively flat water despite the building ebb, steady 20 knot breeze, and warm summer temps. Chris and crew did a fantastic job with the race committee, keeping us hot lapping and mixing up the courses for interest. Lots of yelling and screaming at the starting line as skippers struggled to remember the approach (and rules) when starting with a strong current doing its best to shove everybody over early. Good fun. Note to self: get out there with them more often.

High Sierra Regatta at Huntington Lake up next. Fleet 76 will be there with another strong showing for the Vanguard 15 class, and the Wetas will have 14 on the line in just our fist ever trip to Huntington. It'll be a good mix of NorCal and SoCal duking it our for West Coast supremacy.

2011 NOOD

2011 Nukin’ NOODs: I guess this is becoming the West Coast Weta’s annual big air regatta. Excellent conditions all weekend on the city front.



From the Surfing Pikachu log:

• Race 1: Forestay lashing came loose during prestart. Five minutes late for start after returning to beach to tension rig. Damn. Jumped in late and passed two boats—saved 3 points. 10th place.
• Race 2: Over early at start (got aggressive with John and he got me back pushing me over the line.) Good recovery and found new lane. Still managed to drive back to the front and round top mark first. Still managed to suck downwind. 3rd place.
• Race 3: Port tacked the fleet with 8 boatlength lead! Woohoo! But wait, why does this feel so weird. Caught way too far left in emerging flood current down city front. Ack! Stupid. Dropped back to about mid fleet by weather mark. Luckily found a gap through the F18 fleet stack-up on the starboard layline and got through cleanly while other boats ahead tangled up and aborted. Good job getting back into it. That’s a consistent lesson in these bots. Don’t ever give up—things can/do change fast. 3rd.

Day one done: sitting 4th at front of 2nd cluster—that 10th was a killer.

• Race 4: Wow, what a great, close race. I had a great start just to leeward of Davo and managed to climb up and out front. Too tentative with my tacks to go when I wanted, though, and had to wait for him to go. Would have been better to get to the right first (favorable current and pressure) and then come up from below again. Had a great duel with Dave downwind—some of my best speed all weekend—probably because I was sailing his line and not mine. Kept my focus on Davo (not a bad thing) and gybed off to right with him. We both let Bruce bang the left corner and he nipped us at the finish. Dang—he was the one I should have covered! This was overall a great race at the front. Top four were within shouting distance and the lead had changed several times. 3rd.
• Race 5: Another great start and first beat. Dave is so much more confident downwind, though. He just works right on past while I worry about what’s happening. Still, with three upwind legs I might have been able to get him back, but hit the leeward mark while trying to round tight inside of him--did my doughnut. Should have just rounded cleanly, tacked out first, and then climbed up from leeward position. 2nd.

Final standing: 4th.

Weekend Notes

• Great starts and upwind speed (and height.) I can use this as a tactical weapon taking up leeward positions and climbing out of them.
• With starts and upwind speed, first at top mark in 3 of 4 races (that I started on time!) Then, gave it up all three times. Damn!
• Downwind speed was improved at times (good trim, I think) but still my major weakness. Need to train hard so that I’m as fast downwind as I am upwind.
• Pushed the boat upwind pretty hard keeping the power on in the rough stuff more than I dared before. Still need to get better focus on maintaining groove and worry less about stuffing the boat. I was hesitant to put the bow down and just drive. Feel the “hump hump” and go!
• When it was really honking in last race, I was able to sail really deep from rumble seat position and still keep the boat planing. That was cool.

Results -- Pictures -- More pictures

More later . . .

WetaWest WetaClinic

Thanks to Dave Berntsen for a great clinic.



Weta West Coast Championships at SF NOOD next week!

What Practice Looks Like

Watching Gordon gain on me downwind every race at Whiskeytown (and overhaul me twice) made my Weta weakness pretty clear--I'm sleepy-dog-slow downwind. Up until this point, I've been picking up tips here and there from the vets in the class and basically just winging it when it's time to put the wind abaft the beam. Some days I hang in there, others I'm clearly the slow one.

My old Megabyte buddy, Dean E. (who won the Banshee fleet at Whiskeytown--nice going!) sent me a nice email the other day. He noted how much fun the Weta looked and commented on how hard it must be to learn how to sail downwind after coming from the Megabyte. I hadn't really thought that much about it before, but his note really got me thinking. Maybe I was carrying over some good but now wrong habits. In the Megabyte, I'd worked hard to refine my downwind speed--had to in order to keep up with lighter weight sailors. I learned just how to optimize the vang, how to trim the boat for zero helm pressure (no brakes), how to feel just the right mainsail trim--how to rip down a lake dead downwind. The Weta on the other hand doesn't even have a vang, has two extra hulls with three sails to trim, and it definitely don't do dead downwind.

With the West Coast Championships coming up in two weeks (at the SF NOOD), I figured I'd better figure this out. Armed with some tips gleaned from catamaran sailors, I set off for some practice in the Carquinez Strait. Without a benchmark available, I can't say whether any of it worked, but I can say that I gained greater awareness of how the helm, sails, and wind angles interact. Awareness is good. It's a first step to identifying and dropping old habits and discovering new ones.

OK, here's the video to accompany the story. Dig it.
Check this one out, too: http://vimeo.com/24464550

Family Class

As shared in this log previously, I've found the Weta to be a remarkably versatile boat. One weekend I can be bashing around the buoys on the bay pulling the strings for three sails singlehandedly and the next coasting across a lake with two kids belly down on the tramps leaving hand wakes behind. Is it a one-up racer or a family day sailor? This past Memorial Day weekend, four Weta families converged on Whiskeytown to demonstrate that it just might be a family racer.

In an effort to promote more family involvement, the Whiskeytown Memorial Regatta was designated a Weta "Family Class" event. The regatta itself is already family friendly with camping, a beach to play at, and a BBQ dinner Saturday night. Adding to that, we experimented with our class-within-a-class format. The Family Class would be dynamically defined as those boats which sailed with crew but did not otherwise win one of the regular class trophies for the regatta. Basically we'd go two layers deeper with awards to encourage skippers to take on extra ballast, er, I mean family or friends. Well, I guess word got out that the Family Class awards (provided by our man, Dave, at WetaWest--thanks!!) were better than the regatta wall plaques, and everybody showed up with crew! I even think Gordon and Stephen might have been sandbagging so as not to remove themselves from contention for the WetaWest goodies.

Saturday opened overcast and chilly with decent breeze from the West. Three boats made it out for the first start, Gordon with Fiance Heather, Stephan with daughter Maya, and I with son Iain. Just in time for race 3 Yann with wife and daughter, Karen and Isabella, would hit the start line after making the long drive up from the Bay Area. Day one was a challenging introduction to lake sailing. Race two, in particular, sandwiched in between one race in a relatively stable Westerly and a third in a fluky Easterly, was particularly crazy. With the morning Westerly holding a little longer than usual, the race committee sent us off to mark #9 again. I managed to find the quickest route through the shifts and puffs, and Iain and I had a good lead at the weather mark. A gybe-set into a fortuitous Northerly puff and we were on our way to being gone. Stephan and Maya followed us out to the middle of the lake where the pressure had been good on the windward beat while Gordon and Heather, needing something different to get back into it, went looking for advantages down the South edge of the lake. Should we cover? Nah, they are way too far back. Stephan is the one to worry about.

Well, wouldn't you know, midway down the leeward leg the typical midday wind swap started. At Whiskeytown, this means the wind pretty much stops and then restarts with little puffs from every which direction before settling in from the opposite direction. Gordon stuck with his bet down the South edge and was rewarded with a wind that carried him nearly all the way to the mark on a single gybe. Meanwhile, Stephan and I struggled to crawl out of the huge hole that was now the center of the lake. Gordon just scooted on by and was soon as far ahead as he had been behind just minutes before. Nice move! The dominant wind would swap two more time before this race was over, however, and Iain and I hung in there chasing each shift and puff. We eventually pulled up about even one third of the way up the last leg ducking Gordon and Heather, now closehauled again, on the last gasp of Westerly. After ducking, Iain and I went looking for wind in the middle while Gordon went back to the South which had paid earlier. At this time we noticed the keel boat class cutting back across in breeze from their leeward mark on the opposite side of the lake. We crawled out to their wind in wing and wing desperation mode (very slow in this boat, but serviceable), gybed when we got to the fresh wind, and reached right down the layline to the finish as poor Gordon sat helplessly waiting for the next wind gift on his side of the lake.

By race three, the wind was now pretty steady from the East, and the fourth Weta had emerged--Yann sailing with family three-up. Woohoo! Gordon, determined to not get snookered again, sailed a very clean race with unbeatable boat speed off the wind. He consistently sailed lower and faster than us. Very fast--I wish I knew how he does that! Iain and I made some gains on the final beat attempting to inject some prenuptial discord with a flurry of tacks, but Gordon and fiance applied a very effective loose cover to maintain the order of things. With day one finished, we held a one point lead over Gordon and Heather.

The forecast thunderstorm finally arrived as we were packing up the boat for the night, my wife and daughter returned to the lake in a hail storm after an afternoon horseback ride in the sun just a few miles south, crews huddled in cars as the storm blew through, and eventually skies cleared just in time for the BBQ. Nice.

Sunday proved warmer with only patchy clouds in a blue sky, but considerably windier with strong gusts stirring up white caps over the short fetch from Western shore to race start line. With Saturday being just Iain's third time in the boat, he was a bit apprehensive about going out in these conditions. With a throwout coming, should we go to six races, I suggested we give it a try for the first two races and then retire early for some fun back on the beach with sister, Nana, and Granddad (yeah, we had the full entourage with us!) Iain bravely accepted this plan, pulled on his extra foul weather gear, and climbed aboard. Once out in the middle of the lake, we hardened-up onto the wind for a taste. With strong gusts coming in as random 20 to 30 degree shifts it was a rough and noisy ride. Iain held back the tears, but was clearly not ready for this just yet. "I want to go in," he said. "Are you sure?" "Yes." "OK, hang on. I'll crack things off and we'll work our way back nice and easy." "Dad?" "Yeah, Iain?" "I'm sorry I chickened out on you." "You didn't chicken out, Iain. You made a good choice. It's getting a little wild out here."

I dropped Iain off at the dock and he scampered off with a friend while I returned to the course in time for our start. Without crew, I was now officially expelled from the Family Class and, without the extra weight, considerably faster than the others. The big gusts and shifts made upwind work this day considerably more difficult than on Sunday. It was particularly hard to find and stay in the groove for fear of being caught by a blast unprepared--made me, and I suspect the others, very tentative about going bow down for speed.

So, how'd it all turn out? For a first appearance at Whiskeytown by the Weta fleet, I think it went great. Spirits were high despite less than ideal weather, a relatively long drive, and some equipment failures. And what about the Family Class? Well the Wishkeytown Sailing Club, being as generous as they are, gave us our own class with just four boats and went three deep with the trophies! So, Yann, Karen, and Isabella, who managed to get just one race in between late arrival and boat breakages takes the first ever Family Class win! And, thanks to Dave's generosity we had plenty of WetaWest swag to go around. Full results here.

Video summary coming soon. Stay tuned.

25 Plus, What, Me Worried?

With another Friday afternoon off, it was time to get some more Weta tacking and gybing practice. Iain was back in school; so, I headed for the more wide-open and chillier waters of Carquinez Strait for a nice afternoon solo sail. I had expected maybe 12 knots of breeze, but according to Dean who spied the online wind meters and then came down to see how I was doing, it was 20ish, gusting 25+. Add to that a max ebb (boosted by snow melt) running directly counter to the wind, and it was, um, cranking out there. So much for my plans to work on the subtitles of tacking and gybing. It was time for some go-fast-without-wiping-out drills. Actually, I probably do need to wipe out so that I'll really know where the edge is, but as the only boat on the water I'd leave that lesson for another day.

Upwind was the usual, controlled ride flying above the waves from my perch out on the ama. Nice! The only letdown was the lack of lift from from the "cruising" foils I rigged on this day. The significantly larger and more shapely race foils were laid up in the garage midway through a tuneup. Off the wind was a total rush, or I should say, "gush." The wind-against-tide thing was standing up nearly vertical waves out in the windiest and deepest middle section of the strait. A couple of times I fell out of sync and instead of steering around and over the big ones, plowed right through. The boat just disappeared into a wash of foam before popping out the back side, shedding it off, and rocketing off for the next one.

It still amazes me how manageable and comfortable this 14-foot singlehander is at speed in a good blow. Blasting upwind without hiking and shredding downwind without a thought of deathrolling. Yeah, there are some creative ways to get a trimaran upset, but so far I haven't had any trouble staying out of those modes. Well done Messrs. Kitchen

Reluctantly Delighted

Everybody likes to sail, right? Of course they do. They all just may now know it, yet. This is the case with my 11yo son. OK, I admit I've done a couple things with him on board that may have been somewhat frightening--a particular gybe, which my wife won't let me forget, comes to mind. Still, the son does seem to enjoy sailing--even tells me so while we're out on the water. He's just apprehensive about getting out there in the first place.

In the interest of injecting a bit more variety and family fun into the Weta fleet, we're trying to promote certain regattas as Friends & Family events. For the fleet here in Northern California, we'll start with the tamer lake events such as Whiskeytown and High Sierra before trying to coerce the reluctant into a wild mid-Summer regatta on the Bay (which, of course, anybody should love to do.)

Now although Iain hasn't officially said, "Yes" yet, he'll be my crew at Whiskeytown. So, he needs some time in the boat to get ready for racing. Last Friday, thanks to a CA schools furlow day, he and I splashed into the local puddle, Contra Loma Reservoir, for some tacking, gybing, and kite furling/unfurling practice. He did great, remarkably well in fact, having never handled the sheets and control lines before. Heck, he even seemed to be enjoying it. We tooled around the lake for a while, up and down, back and forth. The Weta is a bit fast for this pond causing us to change directions often--perfect for our practice session. Eventually, we made our way back to the dock, and as we were pulling the boat up onto its dolly, Iain said, "That was really fun, Dad."

"Cool. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Would you like to go again?"
"Sure!," he replied.
"So then," I asked, "do you want to race with me at Whiskeytown?"
"Umm, I'll let you know on that."

Why We Sail

This past weekend was the Big Dinghy Regatta at Richmond Yacht Club, first time on the starting line for me since last October. Saturday was a "normal" around the buoys format with four races for our fleet of seven Wetas. Abnormal was sharing a start sequence with the open multihull class. Yeah, I know the Weta technically has multiple hulls, but it definitely ain't no Nacra 20! We would have been better off mixing it up with the training-float-less I14 and 29er skiffs than dodging the cats ripping down the line at nearly twice our speed. OK, enough whining. It was great to be back in the boat chasing friends around the bay. Hanging tough and taking advantage of a few critical opportunities allowed me to overcome a number of my own mistakes and eek out a second place on a tie-break (sorry, Gordon.) Well ahead, showing us all how to do it, was Bob "hide" Hyde. We all knew he had four bullets even if the race committee only actually saw him win two. The scores have now been set straight and posted here.

Truth be told, I felt a little unsettled throughout and after day one. I started out nervous and that continued into awkwardness after being out of the boat for so long. Starting with cats and paddling home when the wind shutdown didn't help the groove any. A day racing usually feels better.

Day 2 at Big Dinghy is a reverse handicap pursuit race around a couple of islands in the bay, and with something like 40 boats entered it was a zoo. Did it feel better than day 1? Well, I . . . er we . . . were 36th of 38 boats that actually finished, thanks to at least one major screw-up on my part, but it turned out to be a blessed day of sailing. Dave Berntsen had sent me some crew for the day, a young woman from Golden Gate Yacht Club with an infectious passion for sailing and the desire to have a go at dinghy racing. Kristen was excited from the get-go, well prepared, and ready to learn whatever she needed to. She got involved early in tending sheets, tracking the competition, and sharing tactical insights. During the slow parts of the race, I learned about her sailing classes, family racing heritage, and efforts to promote more under 30 participation in the sport, especially at her yacht club (she's the youngest member.)

The highlight of the sailing came late in the race after finally rounding Southampton Light. The wind had been steadily building as we made our way South out of the doldrums of Red Rock, and by the time we hit the shoals, the waves were up and the wind was starting to nuke. I moved aft to keep the bows up, as Kristen reached for the furling line. She payed it out just as we'd practiced; I sheeted in; and cashoosh! we were up on a plane and bashing through the backs of the waves. Not wanting to stuff the bows and see bad things happen, I dumped some kite and climbed out over the aft beam to sit on the last little bit of hull next to the rudder, as the more experienced Weta sailors have told me to do when it's honking. I suppose I should have been assessing the mental state of my crew before asking her to climb out to the very aft, windward corner of the trampoline (where there's not much to hold on to). What if this was scaring her, first time on a Weta and at the limits of its stability? Instead, I just asked her to come on back. She did, and, I put the power back on. Whooooosh! Surfing Pikachu was flying now, bows up and leaving a blanket of foam behind. Ten seconds later the first "Woohoo!" came from the very aft, windward corner of the trampoline and a few minutes later as the adrenalin rush continued to surge, "Oh my God, this is so much fun!"

Thanks for crewing Kristen. Your enthusiasm, desire to learn, and pure joy helped me to remember why we sail.

Booms

Boom. Boom-boom. The Union soldiers, half of them, fired their first volley and then knelt to pour a new powder charge down the muzzle of their muskets while the other half advanced 10 more yards down the hill upon the rebels. "Fire!" Ba-boom. Boom. Three more shots fired. As these three knelt, the rebels appeared from behind their barricades to return fire. Boom. Boom. crack, "ah, come on!" one rebel exclaimed as his percussion cap failed to ignite the powder. This scene continued on for some 20 minutes: men in blue alternately advancing, firing, reloading; their targets firing back from positions backed up to the shore with nowhere to run. It all looked pretty authentic except for the beautiful backdrop of the Golden Gate Bridge on a delightful Spring day.


The kids aren't personally motivated (yet, wishfully) to go sailing without me dragging them aboard. But Angel Island? You bet. They wanted to go there; so hey, let's sail across. Oh my, what a crossing it was. The beautiful clear weather continued from Friday presenting us with mild winds and clear views of the City, the three major bridges, and Angel Island square in our sights.

Upon arriving at Ayala Cove we made our way up the gangway to pay the slip fee. To our surprise, we were greeted by the usual State Park Ranger unusually dressed for battle circa 1863. He recommended we hike our way over to the West side of the island where at 2pm there would be a Civil War reenactment. So we did. Turns out Angel Island has a bit of Civil War history. Cool.

By the time it was time to head back across the bay, the wind had come up nicely. We poled out the jib and the kids took turns guiding Lapras back to Richmond.

Ah Sailing

Rain and more rain, cold, teaser sunshine midweek, rainy weekend. That's been about it for "Spring" so far . . . until last weekend. Finally some warmth and coupled with a break in the hyperactive personal schedule it was time to get the Weta wet. Surfing Pikachu had been under wraps since October--that's just wrong here in California

70-something, light breeze, fizzy clouds, slack tide. Ah sailing. The Weta trampolines sure make a nice place to just sit or even lie down out in the middle of some quiet water. I dropped the tiller, tweaked the sails a bit, and she just sailed herself for 15, 20 minutes or so. Ah sailing.

About this time, the warm Easterly shut down and the ebb started building. Uh oh, can I find a vector that'll get me in the harbor before being flushed out the Carquinez Strait straight into San Pablo Bay? No problem. A little puff here, a hint of Westerly there. Pikachu just glided across to the North where she found the new wind. Ah sailing.

Cruising with Friends

It's been nearly two weeks since Fam Cruise II, yet I've felt no real motivation to close it out with the blog update. Maybe that's because it's kind of already done via realtime uploads to Facebook. Turned out to be a much more interactive log with various friends and family joining in with comments along the way. It was fun to have them virtually aboard for the weekend.