Like Tarzan. Well maybe George O'Jungle

Huntington Lake is a tricky place to sail. Easy to make a lot of mistakes without really trying hard. Good speed up the lake depends, apparently, on a lot more than just local "knowledge." After all, Charles' knowledge has been posted on the regatta web site for all to see, and yet nobody has beaten him, not even a single race, in like, forever. Why is he so fast? Well, first, he's just plain fast on any water, but he really seems to have the feel and instincts for this particular lake. After being mostly frustrated by what seemed to be just screwy winds last year at the High Sierra Regatta, this year I caught some glimpses of what it must feel like to grok the winds, to understand that they are not screwy, they're just a little complex. (In case you're wondering, I'll get it out right now: No, I didn't beat Charles. Not even close, but at least this year I was close enough to see the color of his boat!)

After finding several ways to mess up an otherwise fine regatta at Whiskeytown, I was determined to keep it simple at Huntington. No fancy strategizing, just good clean tactics. Let others beat me. Let the lake beat me. But, don't let me beat me. After a good fast downwind leg to recover a 2nd in race one, race 2 started with a long beat all the way up the 7 mile lake. Without trying to get fancy, I just focused on the wind patterns revealed by the texture of the water and the sailing angles of all the Lasers who had started with us. It was about half way up the beat that I stumbled upon a rhythm, a strangely graceful feeling that I can only describe as swinging from vine to vine. The puffs behaved just as Charles had described them--they sort of fan out to the sides. Catch a lift up the right side of one, watch for the next, tack over and catch a lift up the left side of that one. Repeat. Holy cow, this is how to make tracks up this lake! Huge gains, that is until you miss one, and then, "watch out for that . . ." Wham! Sailed right into a header or a hole. Back to hunting and grasping for that next vine.

So, the racing was good, but what made the weekend great was the same as last year--fun with family and friends on a beautiful mountain lake. I was blessed to have the full entourage: Mom (with her now famous sailboat cookies), Bill, Kecia, and the kids. This year we stayed in the cabins. Ah, beds and showers (Thanks, Mom and Bill!!) Only problem was figuring out which party to go to. The Folsom crowd had their usual great spread at lake side, and this year Vanguard Fleet 76 out of Benicia made the trip and had quite the campsite cuisine themselves. Didn't want to miss out; so, we went to both!

So that's it. Definitely an annual event now. Racing gets better every year, and the fellowship is always second to none.

Father's Day Shakedown

Dinghy Delta Ditch was epic, but that entry's gonna have to wait. Deano has been waiting for this cruise video for a long time. Way out of date here, but this is what 4 dads did back on father's day weekend instead of . . . racing in the Catalina 250 Nationals. As explained earlier, Lapras is a cruising boat and we already have other boats for racing. So, cruising we went. In fact, this was the shakedown for young Lapras (for the new owners anyway.) Benicia to Pittsburg and back. Wow, that's exciting. Actually, it was.



Four adults on board was very doable. Plenty of room in the cockpit. Decent sleeping arrangements. Got a little crowded down below trying to get bunked down, dressed in the morning, etc. Food was great. Potluck worked well. Snackmaster Mitch brought all six of the tasty snacks Trader Joe's sells, Jorge a bucket of meat, and Dean all the normal food. I just brought the beer. Next time, more Racer 5, less heifer. Walking into town for dinner and finding great Mexican food was perfect. Could have definitely sailed deeper into the Delta. With favorable tides and strong winds, we made both passages with plenty of sunshine to spare, and the crew felt like sailing some more. Next time . . . Overall, the boat performed beautifully.

For a first trip up the Delta, I think we got really spoiled: great weather, strong wind, fine Mexican food ashore. Gonna be hard to top that. We ate well and sailed well. Sitting at home the next day I had the urge to get right back out there. Alas, racing the little boats is consuming weekends again. Late Summer Cruise #2. That sounds about right.

I am Alive!

I know because I've spent way more time sailing than blogging lately. Remember when I almost gave up Megabyting? Well, I decided to do one more season. And not that anybody actually keeps up with this blog, but if you did, you should be wondering what happened at the Catalina Nationals. I have no idea. I wasn't there. Turns out I had an epiphany sometime during the long drive back from Whiskeytown. It didn't say, do more Megabyting or race Lapras. It said, "Go cruising in Lapras. That's what you bought her for." Damn right. As for the Megabyte, I was so frustrated after my regatta screw-ups that my first inclination was to sell the boat and check-out of the racing scene by diving exclusively into cruising the big boat. After some time I came to my senses. Cruise Lapras. Race Feraligatr. There it is. Even the names make sense--if you know your Pokemon.

So we went cruising instead of racing on the weekend of the Catalina 250 Nationals, but I'm not going to get into all that right now. (I promise, Dean, I'll post something, video, etc. before I blog about Huntington.) Where was I. Oh yeah, I am alive! Just got back from one last Megabyte practice session before this weekend's High Sierra Regatta. I can't say I'm now nailing all my roll tack and gybes, but I just felt so alive out there. It was windy enough to get into a full hike, choppy enough to require some boat man-handling, and just scary enough to nearly dime my attention. This is something my non-sailor friends have a hard time understanding. How can something that is barely faster than walking be so invigorating? It just is.

And, it feels good.

Balance Update

As I'm preparing to head out for the weekend to generate blog content, I'm realizing just how far behind I am. I think I did some racing. What day was that? There's a broken tiller on my workbench. Where did that come from?

It's starting to back to me. Two weeks ago. Crewing on Dean's V15. Warm and windy. Two bullets, three seconds, otherwise unremarkable. Wait, except for that funky current. The tide had just started to switch and an unusual current line developed right down the middle of the course. To the right, slack. To the left, strong ebb. It was like stepping on and off one of those moving sidewalks. Express lane right to the weather mark. We found it first. By race 3 the others had discovered our trick.

And that tiller? A different kind of balance problem. Had the Megabyte out for a practice session with the Vanguards (thank goodness). Big wind. Big gybe. Big crash. No problem. Had the shiny side down again in a minute or so, but wait, something's missing. Crap! Where did my tiller go? Must have fallen on it and broke it clean off. Thanks to Jamie for pulling Big Red off station to render assistance, and apologies to the V15 fleet for the delay incurred.

All good. A day sailing can balance out just about anything.

Have You Ever Been Boarded? Uh . . . No

Didn't really know what to expect as the bright orange rigid came screaming up along side apparently to conduct a training exercise, er, I mean a safety inspection. Actually, the Vallejo based Coast Guard was most courteous, save for the muddy boot prints left on my white cockpit cushions, and did a very nice and speedy job of making sure we were prepared for a safe outing on the water.

Just five minutes clear of the Benicia breakwater we had settled in on a close hauled course to check for sea lions sunning on buoy G25. My Cousin, Caroline, whom I hadn't seen in about 15 years was at the helm and her delightful, but nonswimmer husband, Jon was looking about for just the right spot to sit to minimize any chance of falling overboard. The port side "princess seat" was commanded by six year old, Olivia, from where she could issue commands had she known which commands to issue. A great beginning to a midweek adventure on the Carquinez Strait.

"Uh, better let me take the helm," I said as the Coasties came along side. "Good morning, Sir. Have you ever been boarded?" "Uh . . . no . . . and good morning." After granting my request to tack away from the near shore before being boarded, the skipper of the pursuit vessel backed down to leeward. "Does this happen often?" Caroline asked. Visiting from England, this might be a daily occurrence for all they knew. "Um, actually, this is my first time." "Do you have any firearms on board?!" came the next shout. "No, sir." I guess I should have checked with my guests before answering, but turned out I was correct anyway. Two men then jumped aboard--I didn't get their rank--and proceeded with the inspection. "Are you the owner?" "Registration, please." "May I see your horn?" and so on. Actually, the one doing the questioning had to refer to his official book a bit more than I would have thought. Made me nervous at the time--what question might he find in there that I wasn't ready with an answer for? Over beers later we concluded that we must have been the easy target for a training exercise. But hey, if that's what we can do to help train our Coast Guard to help keep us safe, that's cool. The two men went about their work quickly, were very polite, and just chatty enough to keep us at ease.

Inspection complete, the big orange boat came along side again and the two men jumped across. With a wave, they were off and we put Lapras back on the wind. We had a bit of work to do to climb back up to G25 having been set quite a ways to the West while hove-to, but before long we were within flipper waving range from the princess seat.

Four Successes at Whiskeytown

Alrighty, Dean, I'm finally gettin' to the good stuff, the good racing stuff that is (the bad stuff probably makes for gooder blog reading.) I know you've just been dieing to know since Saturday "what I learned about the wind on the South side". And after I gave my self a lashing for being "too strategic", you must think I'm losing it--bet our call the other night didn't help much either. You see, this particular regatta was such a mix of really good and really bad that I got things confused. So here are the good things I can remember:

1. My first beat strategy actually paid two out of four, not just one as previously reported. (The second one was quickly forgotten as it preceded the course screw-up.) That practice session on Friday did give me the insight needed. I had found that there was significantly more pressure in a band down the South edge of the lake. Venture just a few hundred yards "offshore" and it would really drop off. On Saturday, we appeared to have the same pattern. This is why I was happy to duck starboard tack boats at the start to get to the right (South) first. In the two races Saturday, I was first and second at the top mark. I also used the extra pressure on the downwind leg of race 2 to catch one boat and almost two others after my course blunder. (This pattern was gone by Sunday, but I didn't recognize that . . .)
   
2. I was fast in light air. I was fast in light air. I was fast in light air! WooHoo. I usually suck in the light stuff. My two best finishes, a first and a second, were actually in the lightest air races. Being really diligent about good boat trim, staying quiet in the boat, and playing the sheet all the way really seemed to help.
   
3. I was fast down wind, too. A similar focus to the upwind sailing along with proper positioning relative to the fleet helped me catch a boat or two after screw-ups and hold off pursuers after the good beats. Maybe my downwind tactics are better because I'm not distracted trying to figure out the more complicated upwind strategy.
   
4. And finally, this had to be the best Fleet 3 Megabyte sailing, yet. A couple of other Megabyters made similar observations. The racing was much tighter with more mixed places than usual. I think this is the most boats, six, we've had finish all races in a regatta, and we found a new guy. Don from Lake Shasta who bought a Megabyte last year from somebody in Arizona showed up probably figuring he was going to be the only Megabyte there and subject to sailing in the open class. He was as surprised as we were. Hope to see him again soon.
   

Well, Huntington Lake is next. Hopefully I can create more successes and fewer screw-ups.

Thank You, Phil Bolger

With great sadness, I learned yesterday that Phil Bolger had committed suicide. It's been said he "went on his own terms." That's troubling for me to try to understand, and I can't help but think he wasn't really "done", yet. After all, he was still producing some of the most deceptively innovative boat designs and continuing to share his remarkable insights through his writings. Here's the scoop.

Today, blogger Thomas Armstrong of 70.8%, a rather interesting continual boat ramble, has called for "readers who have built, bought or commissioned a Bolger boat to send me an email with your story and some photos." Although I have built four boats, none was designed by him. But, two were certainly influenced by him. After all, I've read Bolger's "Boats With an Open Mind" through and through many times studying his words carefully, skipping from chapter to chapter to compare related designs all the while thoroughly enjoying the read. Those who know Bolger know that he had a remarkable ability to make what would normally be a truly ugly boat beautiful and not just in a utilitarian way but in an absolute way. His "square boats" are perhaps the most recognizable example, but the skill shows up in other types, as well. His portfolio was particularly broad

I spent countless hours rereading his descriptions of what made good boats from flat panels--the kind easily assembled in garages from plywood, translating what I learned into creations of my own using rudimentary design software, building and testing scale models as described by "Dynamite"Payson who is responsible for teaching thousands of us how to build to Bolger's designs, and ultimately building two at full scale. The first, was a sort of box boat, warped to get the aesthetic I was after. It was commissioned by my Mom and her husband Bill to fit exactly in a virtual box, the space just behind and no higher than the roof-mounted air conditioner on their motorhome. Twelve and a half feet long, thirty inches or so wide, and fifteen inches deep. Stable with capacity for two. The result was a modifed punt.

The second boat shows the Bolger influence perhaps a bit more directly. Ironically, I ended up strip planking this boat despite its design for sheet construction and with no beveling required on account of the plumb sides. In fact, I glued up the strips in panels on the floor and then wrapped them around a jig as if they were plywood. The result was an "Electric Slipper Canoe." Dig it.



Mr. Bolger's influence will surely carry on for many years to come and thousands more will build, buy, or just noodle on the wonderful boats he designed. Bye Phil.