Now that would be a crazy party!

I've never considered myself to be all that into heroes. Impressed with certain human endeavors, yes. Respectful of great accomplishment, of course. I just don't recall ever saying, "so-and-so is my hero." OK, Tillerman didn't say we had to invite our heroes to dinner, but as I've been thinking these past few days about who would be on my sailor or sailors, living or dead, real or fictional dinner party list I started to realize that I might just have quite a long list of sailing heroes. As the list grew, I also realized that this would likely be one totally out of control bunch. Party on!

• Despite having grown up in Southern California I've never sailed a beach cat or surfed standing up (I do it Obama style). Still, I have to have Hobie Alter on the list as a serial water sport innovator.
• OK, I guess some have disputed that he wrote the book by himself, but he certainly sailed the boat on his own. Wouldn't it be great to have Joshua Slocum at the party? No, really.
  
• While we're talking authors, let's invite Richard Henry Dana Jr. Now that dude had some stories to tell!
  
• Olin Stevens, William Garden, L. Francis Herreshoff (yeah, I like his stuff better than his dad's), Joel White (let's invite his more famous dad, too), and Phil Bolger. Hmmm, that's an eclectic bunch and I go through stages every year or so of who's my favorite. As of this moment, Mr. Garden gets the nod (Dang, that's a bad pun.) And what the heck, I love boat design so much that I'm inclined to invite a few more designers. Let's include Bill Lapworth (after all, I spent 18 years of my life sailing aboard his Dasher design) and Bill Tripp (amazing how good he could make an ugly boat look.)
• Whoa, almost forgot C. Raymond Hunt. For all his contributions maybe he deserves his own bullet. Doesn't it seem unnatural for one person to be responsible for the 110 (another amazing beautiful ugly boat feat), the Boston Whaler, the deep-V power boat hull, and my favorite 12 meter--Easterner (or News Boy as I new her as a boy-huh?)
  
• I was in the junior program with him at BYC when we knew him as Nicky "Scandonee". Now Nick Scandone is an Olympic champion, and dying. We're almost exactly the same age. He's done so much already. Inspiring and sad.
  
• Edward Teach. I don't really know why. Certainly wouldn't call him a "hero", but a guy with his beard on fire has got to spark some kind of dinner conversation, no?
  
• My Dad. One of the great things about my dad was that he never showed a hint of fear. Looking back now, I can remember some sailing circumstances that should have been absolutely terrifying for me yet seemed perfectly normal like the time 150 miles off the coast of Mexico with the bilge so full of water that I floated up out of my lee side quarter berth every time the boat rolled over a wave. My dad had a way of staying in complete control (or at least giving the impression that he was) and keeping the crew's confidence high. We just pumped the bilge and kept on pounding our way to a first place finish in the Guadalupe Race.
• And finally, I would have to invite my longtime sailing buddy, Dean. It seems all my sailing adventures have involved him in some way. As interests and circumstances change independently we keep connecting back together for a new chapter in the sailing life.
  

Looking back over this list, I see that many of these heroes are dead. Perhaps those living wouldn't accept my invitation to dinner, but that doesn't have to stop me from reaching out to tell them how much I appreciate what they've done.

Expect More

With all the new boat activity, some travel, and a bunch of other stuff, I'd only managed to get the Megabyte wet once since High Sierra. I certainly wasn't well prepared, then, for the annual Turkey Shoot regatta hosted by Lake Washington Sailing Club the weekend before last. No matter; I had to get out there as this regatta represented coming full circle on my first year racing a singlehanded dinghy since I was a teenager. Prior to the racing, I reflected back on my experience on Huntington Lake. I had determined that my performance had been most hampered by poor starts and generally pathetic first beats putting me too far back to have any hope of catching the leaders. So, I set the expectation that I would focus my energy on getting off the line with speed, finding just the right height/speed groove, and making good decisions up the first leg.

Well, guess what? It worked. I was first around the top mark in each of the first three races. the problem was that in only one of those three races did I manage to hold onto the lead. In the other two, I managed to find other ways to screw up and dropped to third. Dang. Maybe I should expect to win every leg? hmmm . . . That used to work when I was a competitive runner. I would visualize every detail of the race from a quick start all the way through to a strong finish. Then I just had to replay it for the real event.

How much of winning is simply expecting it?

Better than the Hornet

I was about to say that last Thursday was the first time that I had slept on a boat in some 20 years, but then I remembered our overnight adventure on the USS Hornet the year before last (Yeah, it was on that same ship that the Apollo 11 astronauts had their first earthbound snooze following their space cruise.) Well, enough about the Hornet, this is about sleeping on the new boat. Just about froze my buns off but overall quite comfy, especially compared to a WW II aircraft carrier. The best part? The morning. As the sun rose up over Mt. Diablo it flickered yellow in through the companionway. A pot of water on the stove and I soon had nice cup of coffee to warm my hands. All was dead quiet in the Marina, and from my end slip I could see out across the old railroad berm and onto the river. Still water, crisp air, beautiful.

Update: just realize this blog post trailed off into some blissful whatever, and I forgot to mention that we actually got out for a nice sail that day, too. After warming up a bit, I got to work on the boat installing a track and car on the mast to support the new whisker pole. Dean came down to visit a bit later and convinced me that we needed to go out and test it. We did. It worked great.

Mabye Just a Little Thing

Hmmm, I wordled my blog:
Or, Clearly Like a Family Racing Boat?

First Sail?

Hardly worth recording the event as we had more current than wind on the Strait today. Still, had a nice little motor cruise up to the Benicia Bridge and back and lunch aboard in the marina.

We Done and Gone It

Mothra is officially ticked especially since I started salvaging some of the equipment off of her for the Catalina 250 we brought home last week. Yep, new (used) boat.

With help from Dean and Marcel we stepped the mast and launched her Sunday afternoon. All went well if a bit slow as we checked and double checked everything. Yes, I did remember the masthead fly! We put her in at the steeper of the two Benicia ramps--only had to kiss the water with the rear axle on my truck to get the boat to float. After splashdown, we motored up the Straits to the marina and tucked her into her new berth.
So what's next? I missed the Tillerman's bucket list writing project; so, how about a "fun things to do with a new boat" list?

• Teach the family how to really sail, to be able to handle the boat without me.
• Go cruising!: Up the Delta for the 4th, marina hopping, Ayala Cove, the same fun places that I went when I was a wee little dude on the family boat.
• In general, just enjoy sailing a really comfortable boat that isn't simultaneously a restoration project.
  
• Do a little PHRF racing: maybe The Delta Ditch, a beer can or two, Vallejo Cruise, Three Bridge Fiasco, fun stuff like that. And hey, I think the Catalina 25/250/Capri 25 Nationals are going to be on the Bay next year!
• Occasionally venture away from home waters. At 4200 lbs., I wouldn't call this thing a trailer-sailor, but it is trailer-able. A week on Monterey Bay would be nice or maybe haul her all the way to Newport Beach and help Dean cross off a bucket list item--sail to Catalina.

Don't Tell Mothra

I've had my eyes on another girl. There, I said it. Even when my mother asked me about it a few nights ago (scary how mothers can sense these things), I flat out denied it. I feel so ashamed. It's time to be open and honest about my passion, my desires, my needs. blabber, blubber, blah, blah, blah. Enough drama.

It seems a photo from a recent outing aboard Mothra caused me to reflect on why I sail anyway, how I purchased Mothra, and what comes next. Mothra was picked up as a low investment fixer-upper with which to tryout this sailing thing with the family. If the kids had hated it, no big loss. Well, two years later it's clear that we all like sailing and are starting to imagine other fun things to do with a boat like some cruising up the delta or even just camping out at the marina Saturday night, and that leads to dreams of more comfortable floating accommodations.

Mothra, an O'Day Mariner, is a fantastic day sailor with a little cabin we can squeeze into. In fact, this is exactly what George O'Day had in mind when he sculpted a new deck mold for the successful Phillip Rhodes designed R-19. If it were just one or two of us headed out for a nice cruise (like these folks), it might be perfect, but 4 is pushing it, especially when two of them are sleeping over the potti. So, time to consider making the step up from a day sailor that one could sleep on to a proper little cruiser that a small family can still easily manage.

Recently, we've looked at one of these Catalina 250's, and the family seems quite excited: