We pick up where we left off...kinda
We are all now 3 drinks deep and have made if from Patriot's Point back to the W Doc and then on to Dauntless. Okay, after three bullets on Friday, they are living high! Everyone seems to have rationalized rum drinks for breakfast, so by 10 AM "Mooove Bitch, Get out the Way!" is booming over City Marina. You have the standard 12 man (and woman) crew along with a number of unsavory characters from the Melges 30 and J 130 contributing. There is a fair amount of bumping and butt grinding already going on. The wind is howling, but the sky is beautiful and only partly cloudy. Yes, I will admit that the clouds are moving along at MACH speed through the sky, but we are all convinced that the races could have gone on. I am secretly thrilled (maybe not so secretly) that I am not sailing on my boat on this big wind day. Regrettably, I just wasn't sure that the boat was ready for buoy racing in 30+ kts of breeze. The boat could handle it, the skipper could handle it, the crew could handle it, but without cohesion between all three, we would have been dangerous. So the party ensues.
We never stop recruiting so the posse has grown now to include all of J dock, some unnamed sailors off of a number of other race boats (ladies, I am looking out for you) and a certain volunteer that has no idea what kind of mess she has gotten herself into. The blender was kicking out margaritas and daiquiris almost as fast as this motley crew could drink them. I am almost ashamed to say how many handles of booze I saw go down in the blaze of glory. Really, I am ashamed, so I'll just leave that detail out.
For some silly reason, I don't recall lunch. I know, weird right? I am pretty sure it just got overlooked. We kept hop scotching between boats throughout City until it was well into the afternoon. There was a great idea exclaimed by someone "hey, let's take the C&C 32 over to the party." Reminder: it is now blowing water over the docks...over...the...docks. Right. Great idea.
We shove off. I calmly remind the boat that yes, we are all bad asses whom can handle anything in any conditions, but let's keep in mind that these are somewhat trying conditions and "just be ready to put your drink down." After the disclaimer, we crank up the tunes and proceed to get soaked by the waves crashing against the windward hull.
So at one point as I am talking to two people, I look around and the rest of the boat is face locked. WTF? I wondered where this was going, "Who plays camera man"? What can I say, there was something in the air that day!
We were forced to spray the dogs down since we were soon to be at Patriot's. Damn we were hell on wheels at the party. Everyone's early morning start made for scarce festivities at night. I found myself wondering around until I came upon Caroline and Cary. I was in the mood to dance so we cut a rug and kicked some sand. The memories by this point are getting farther apart. I know that I was missing the bulk of my party.
So I found out where they were and I am going to write it here ___________________________________________________________________________. If you can't read that, sucks for you. Everyone met back up, but we had lost some of our crew. We looked high and low before having to finally say "you missed the boat." We found out later that everyone got home safely and that there were no hard feelings. The wind had laid down a lot and the ride home was a beautiful one. I stayed at the front of the boat and found out later that I had made a really sweet little night time movie. No not that kind of movie. I didn't get to play camera man.
As we approached City, they dropped me off at MegaDock (I swear that the boat didn't even slow down) to go meet the pizza man. As soon as I got the stack of pies in my hand, I was tackled by a sucker volunteer whom had returned for more. Sucker!!!! Another three ragers showed up. Helllllloooooo! Including one of my partners in crime from Bacardi Miami. Understand that this is where I must be careful. Yes the music was loud, the people were drunk, and great little 7 pound 6 ounce baby Jesus how I love you for blessing me with such a night. I had always heard that the compression post under the mast doubled as a stripper pole, but now I knew it. And if you ever want to take that party to the next level, just throw on some flamenco or Spanish guitar; preferably something very sultry. Holy shit, I love boats. If you know who to speak to, you can track down pics to tell the rest of the story. Rebootizer...
So Sunday was a little bit rough, but we all pulled through. Very light winds enabled me to take a nice little nap on the way out to the course. We had some more stupid moves go down on the boat. Yes, I sound negative, for that I apologize. But I was frustrated with what was going down. Fortunately, I was absolutely horse, so I wasn't able to share my thoughts with the back of the boat. By the first leeward mark, I decided that I was just going to take it easy and completed the rest of the races with a beer AND a camera in my hand. I still got it done mo fo's. There was one perk in our pot. Poor little Dauntless was way to the right side of the course when the wind died. Purely out of luck, our wind lasted long enough for me to give them the "chomp" sign as we ate them up at the finish. I can not underscore it enough...it was pure, undeserved, luck. It also knocked them out of the lead which I regretted.
The Sunday party was tame, but I am no quitter so I still invited a number of guests back to the boat for some great eats; again with a menagerie of seafood, rice and beans, and loads of veggies. After telling our friends good bye, I was tucked into bed (really, I think that Trey tucked me in...True Bromance). I awoke early to start working on boats again. What a damn trip. We ended 6th out of 8, Trey on Wave Bye landed 3rd out of 7, Dauntless came in 2nd out of 8.
I am off to Chucktown this Friday for the first CORA race of the year, this time on my real boat White Dolphin. I love boats....
If you enjoyed the stories, please also check out the other bloggers out there Morgan Kinney and CaraSails (NautiGirl)
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
so all this boring shit about Stephan's boat repairs and bike rides...were is the debauchery??
Sooooooo....names may be changed to protect the not so innocent. Wednesday night we head downtown. Holy shit there loads of beautiful people in Chucktown. Granted, there are a lot of collared shirts and 80's era dresses, but hell, they are fucking hot. We started out at Salty's for the pre CRW party. I saw loads of the Dauntless posse as well as a number of folks that work at the marina. It was pretty tame with some live music, a raffle (for some damn cloth grocery bags...really?) and a lot of drinking. We were already well on point when we zoomed down town in a very speedy car. After turning heads on King Street, we parked and rolled into Closed For Business. Interesting mix of clientele. We ended up chatting to a group of footies (soccer players). They were somewhat interesting, but it was a short lived conversation and we moved on to Halls. Now that was more interesting!!!! I was talking to a lovely young lady who was off her fucking rocker drunk! OMG as the Charlestonian chick-a-dees would say. A boy, whom she claimed wasn't her boyfriend, was skulking around like a beat dog. At one point as we were having a ciggy (I don't even smoke) and the cool guy threw his keys at us saying something along the lines of "Have fun". I think he meant to say "Have fun ass hole." I must admit, this girl had little to offer, but it was fun pissing in this guy's Cheerios. I know I am a dick, but really, if he hadn't made such a scene I probably wouldn't have continued talking to his "not girlfriend". Later he even threw a pack of smokes at us. I left the lovers to quarrel. (She still gave me her card he he he...)
Some friends of ours were there, and is often the case, there was a gaggle of girls hanging about. One of my mates did something to piss one of them off and before you know it, he was telling her something along the lines of "And oh, by the way, I wasn't fucking talking to you." That went over well. We were soon to become pumpkins so it was time to go.
Thursday morning, my head was only a little fuzzy. I was filling in for Frenchy for a practice sail on the Melges 30 at 10 AM. There wasn't a whole lot of wind, maybe 10 to 12, but the boat performed well and the skipper sounded confident after we finished.
There was a rum tent event scheduled, but we opted to take it downtown again. It is entirely possible that I have confused some of the events from Wednesday and Thursday evenings. We were anticipating our first day of racing on Friday, so we kept tame. Though, I must admit that my boys don't really know how to keep it very tame. But none the less, we made it back to the Doc at a semi reasonable time. We were up at 6 AM and after a great breakfast of huevos rancheros, we were on a 12' Whaler headed across the harbor. Noel had brought Solarus over to Patriot's Point, so my boat was across the way from Wave Bye (the Melges 30). Aside from someone missing their foulies and having to jump from Melges to Melges looking for their gear, the morning went smoothly. Ok, there was nothing smooth about the Whaler ride...bump bump boom. My ass still hurts and I am pretty sure that a late night mustache ride wasn't the culprit.
The wind was up (high teens) and the chop made the water like a washing machine. Waves were coming from all directions and I saw the bow on the J130 numerous times submerge. With me on foredeck, it was only a matter of minutes before I was soaking wet. I am not immune to sea sickness on a bad day, but on a bad day with a hangover, it's a guarantee. I didn't get sick, but it made the trip out the jetties (which is where the waves build as they come into the harbor) miserable.
I believe that there was a delay at the start, but not by much. The wind an waves were blowing the marks around, but they were set by 10:15. We had a great start. We were ready to rock at the windward mark with most of the fleet behind us. I pre-fed the tack to the spin pole and was going pole out. I look aft and notice that the wind had caught the head of the sail; it was spilling out into the water and none of the crew had noticed. I start screaming "The fucking sail!" It was too late, the spinnaker was in the water. 1500 sf of sail streaming under the boat. All hands were trying to bring the spinnaker back on board as the fleet caught up, passed us and then marched away. Fortunately we were able to get the sail back on board with only two holes. Both of which were repairable. It did force us to bring out the big boy though. Now we were going to have to fly 1900 sf of spinnaker. It was a blessing in disguise if you ask me. There was a lot of concern about throwing up the big sail early on, but it was the right call. We were flying our number 3 jib and had we stayed with the reacher spin, we would have been underpowered on both up and down legs. I guess you can only load up the boat as much as your crew and your skipper feel comfortable.
On our next down wind leg, the spinnaker went up without any issue (as I had anticipated). After that, there were next to no crew fuck ups. Yet, there were still fuck ups. I must be respectfully honest; there were a number of communication issues from the back of the boat to the front of the boat and vice versa. There were also a number of helmsman issues. All in all, we finished last for the day...and the boat deserved it. As is usual, my sea sickness subsided half way through the day. But now another three on the crew were ill. On the 130, it is necessary to band or yarn the corners of the spinnaker between sets. This means that at least one person, often two, go below and chase the tapes and tie on strings. The process takes maybe 10 minutes or so but being below in 3' to 5'swells can put you into chum mode fast. I give the girls (Barb and Sharon) 110% credit; they were able to band all but two sets. I banded once and Matt banded once. I love sailing, but I love being competitive. I found the day frustrating, observing what I felt like were loads of questionable calls. My frustration with the back of the boat must have been obvious. During the last race, the cockpit had finally had enough of the foredeck screaming at them because they screamed back. Shit wasn't happening like it was supposed to and the explanation was that the pit had was that they were simply under crewed. Hmmmmm, this was not a fine tuned racing yacht. I was ready for a beer.
The boat was silent as we motored back to the dock. Eventually, as I wanted to let the cock pit understand that there were no hard feelings, I started cutting up and making jokes. The guy who yelled back at me was one of the crewmen that I had the most confidence in. If he claimed that he didn't have enough people or enough confidence in the pit to get the job done, then I believed him. With the drama behind us, I wasn't going to pout any longer. "Beers all around!" For whatever reason, only two of us partook. Fuck it then, I head below for a nice long nap during the return voyage. We got back to the dock and little was said. I tracked down my Witch Doc crew and we took the Whaler (compliments of Greg) back across the harbor. Everyone was wet and quiet. Poor Trey was getting gallons of water sprayed on him and there was no speed to prevent it. What a wet damn day.
Oh Friday night how I loved you. So I think the female to male ratio in Charleston is something like 7 to 2. Say no more. We made it to the party and somehow, I was separated from the group. At the end of the evening, I found myself chatting with some of the volunteers. It is worth saying that one volunteer in particular, I had spoken to during the past two years of CRWs. Now if you ask me, I am never hitting on a girl, I simply like speaking to them. According to her, this makes the third year of hitting on her. I am sure I was just trying to network! ;) Well at the end of the evening, I found myself on the pier with um... a number of volunteers and one other sailor. We were having deep discussion over um... drinks. Well it is no secret that racing sailors tend to piss off the back of the boat or on a bush or in a parking lot or hell, even the corner of a building (hopefully outside). Well, one lovely lady figured that there was no reason that she couldn't do the same damn thing. She found a really inconspicuous spot (under a damn street light!) to drop trouser and gracefully relieve herself. Did i mention that it was directly under a light? We who were standing at the end of the pier could see this not so little reflecting pool, growing. A lot of things can be said about sailors and their friends, classy may or may not be one of them.
So after a little pow wow on the pier, I had convinced some of the party to come to the after party. So just know that you are not about to read about some hedonistic orgy. At least not yet. We returned to the Doc and out came the guitar. Holy shit I never knew that I was around such talent! Trey is an unbelievable performer! Matt was chiming in and before you knew it, there was a chorus singing as Trey played. I happened to look at my phone and realized that it was 12:06 AM. "Shit, it's my birthday!" I said. My friends, new and old, are awesome. They instantly broke out into the birthday song. Thanks guys! **Sniff**Sniff**
It wasn't too long after that that our guests left and it was time for beddy bye. Ok, Saturday morning was rough. Really rough. But here is my product endorsement...Rebootizer! I was slightly hung over but really it was the sleep deprivation that was kicking my ass. And then, after only an hour, I felt great! The folks at Rebootizer were brilliant to bring their product to a sailing event!
We got to our respective boats just in time to hear that the races were canceled due to potential for tornadoes....yes, tornadoes. It was 8:30 when I had my first rum drink...
Ok, this day and night needs it's own entry and I don't have time to do it justice this morning. I will write more tonight or tomorrow.
As the smokin' hot NautiGirl would say...Stand by
Some friends of ours were there, and is often the case, there was a gaggle of girls hanging about. One of my mates did something to piss one of them off and before you know it, he was telling her something along the lines of "And oh, by the way, I wasn't fucking talking to you." That went over well. We were soon to become pumpkins so it was time to go.
Thursday morning, my head was only a little fuzzy. I was filling in for Frenchy for a practice sail on the Melges 30 at 10 AM. There wasn't a whole lot of wind, maybe 10 to 12, but the boat performed well and the skipper sounded confident after we finished.
There was a rum tent event scheduled, but we opted to take it downtown again. It is entirely possible that I have confused some of the events from Wednesday and Thursday evenings. We were anticipating our first day of racing on Friday, so we kept tame. Though, I must admit that my boys don't really know how to keep it very tame. But none the less, we made it back to the Doc at a semi reasonable time. We were up at 6 AM and after a great breakfast of huevos rancheros, we were on a 12' Whaler headed across the harbor. Noel had brought Solarus over to Patriot's Point, so my boat was across the way from Wave Bye (the Melges 30). Aside from someone missing their foulies and having to jump from Melges to Melges looking for their gear, the morning went smoothly. Ok, there was nothing smooth about the Whaler ride...bump bump boom. My ass still hurts and I am pretty sure that a late night mustache ride wasn't the culprit.
The wind was up (high teens) and the chop made the water like a washing machine. Waves were coming from all directions and I saw the bow on the J130 numerous times submerge. With me on foredeck, it was only a matter of minutes before I was soaking wet. I am not immune to sea sickness on a bad day, but on a bad day with a hangover, it's a guarantee. I didn't get sick, but it made the trip out the jetties (which is where the waves build as they come into the harbor) miserable.
I believe that there was a delay at the start, but not by much. The wind an waves were blowing the marks around, but they were set by 10:15. We had a great start. We were ready to rock at the windward mark with most of the fleet behind us. I pre-fed the tack to the spin pole and was going pole out. I look aft and notice that the wind had caught the head of the sail; it was spilling out into the water and none of the crew had noticed. I start screaming "The fucking sail!" It was too late, the spinnaker was in the water. 1500 sf of sail streaming under the boat. All hands were trying to bring the spinnaker back on board as the fleet caught up, passed us and then marched away. Fortunately we were able to get the sail back on board with only two holes. Both of which were repairable. It did force us to bring out the big boy though. Now we were going to have to fly 1900 sf of spinnaker. It was a blessing in disguise if you ask me. There was a lot of concern about throwing up the big sail early on, but it was the right call. We were flying our number 3 jib and had we stayed with the reacher spin, we would have been underpowered on both up and down legs. I guess you can only load up the boat as much as your crew and your skipper feel comfortable.
On our next down wind leg, the spinnaker went up without any issue (as I had anticipated). After that, there were next to no crew fuck ups. Yet, there were still fuck ups. I must be respectfully honest; there were a number of communication issues from the back of the boat to the front of the boat and vice versa. There were also a number of helmsman issues. All in all, we finished last for the day...and the boat deserved it. As is usual, my sea sickness subsided half way through the day. But now another three on the crew were ill. On the 130, it is necessary to band or yarn the corners of the spinnaker between sets. This means that at least one person, often two, go below and chase the tapes and tie on strings. The process takes maybe 10 minutes or so but being below in 3' to 5'swells can put you into chum mode fast. I give the girls (Barb and Sharon) 110% credit; they were able to band all but two sets. I banded once and Matt banded once. I love sailing, but I love being competitive. I found the day frustrating, observing what I felt like were loads of questionable calls. My frustration with the back of the boat must have been obvious. During the last race, the cockpit had finally had enough of the foredeck screaming at them because they screamed back. Shit wasn't happening like it was supposed to and the explanation was that the pit had was that they were simply under crewed. Hmmmmm, this was not a fine tuned racing yacht. I was ready for a beer.
The boat was silent as we motored back to the dock. Eventually, as I wanted to let the cock pit understand that there were no hard feelings, I started cutting up and making jokes. The guy who yelled back at me was one of the crewmen that I had the most confidence in. If he claimed that he didn't have enough people or enough confidence in the pit to get the job done, then I believed him. With the drama behind us, I wasn't going to pout any longer. "Beers all around!" For whatever reason, only two of us partook. Fuck it then, I head below for a nice long nap during the return voyage. We got back to the dock and little was said. I tracked down my Witch Doc crew and we took the Whaler (compliments of Greg) back across the harbor. Everyone was wet and quiet. Poor Trey was getting gallons of water sprayed on him and there was no speed to prevent it. What a wet damn day.
Oh Friday night how I loved you. So I think the female to male ratio in Charleston is something like 7 to 2. Say no more. We made it to the party and somehow, I was separated from the group. At the end of the evening, I found myself chatting with some of the volunteers. It is worth saying that one volunteer in particular, I had spoken to during the past two years of CRWs. Now if you ask me, I am never hitting on a girl, I simply like speaking to them. According to her, this makes the third year of hitting on her. I am sure I was just trying to network! ;) Well at the end of the evening, I found myself on the pier with um... a number of volunteers and one other sailor. We were having deep discussion over um... drinks. Well it is no secret that racing sailors tend to piss off the back of the boat or on a bush or in a parking lot or hell, even the corner of a building (hopefully outside). Well, one lovely lady figured that there was no reason that she couldn't do the same damn thing. She found a really inconspicuous spot (under a damn street light!) to drop trouser and gracefully relieve herself. Did i mention that it was directly under a light? We who were standing at the end of the pier could see this not so little reflecting pool, growing. A lot of things can be said about sailors and their friends, classy may or may not be one of them.
So after a little pow wow on the pier, I had convinced some of the party to come to the after party. So just know that you are not about to read about some hedonistic orgy. At least not yet. We returned to the Doc and out came the guitar. Holy shit I never knew that I was around such talent! Trey is an unbelievable performer! Matt was chiming in and before you knew it, there was a chorus singing as Trey played. I happened to look at my phone and realized that it was 12:06 AM. "Shit, it's my birthday!" I said. My friends, new and old, are awesome. They instantly broke out into the birthday song. Thanks guys! **Sniff**Sniff**
It wasn't too long after that that our guests left and it was time for beddy bye. Ok, Saturday morning was rough. Really rough. But here is my product endorsement...Rebootizer! I was slightly hung over but really it was the sleep deprivation that was kicking my ass. And then, after only an hour, I felt great! The folks at Rebootizer were brilliant to bring their product to a sailing event!
We got to our respective boats just in time to hear that the races were canceled due to potential for tornadoes....yes, tornadoes. It was 8:30 when I had my first rum drink...
Ok, this day and night needs it's own entry and I don't have time to do it justice this morning. I will write more tonight or tomorrow.
As the smokin' hot NautiGirl would say...Stand by
Thursday, April 21, 2011
The end of a weekend, the beginning of a Race Week
Sunday's practice was in light winds and with light crew. We worked out some disaggreements that we had been having with the spinnaker sets and douses. We even flew a new #3 jib. I made it back to the boat then back to Salty's for a drink...Salty's on Sunday is church for sailors. After a fairly uneventful afternoon, I ventured back to the Witch Doc to see what happened next.
I made a new friend from further down J dock. Matt, a naval officer, joined Mary and me for a wonderful dinner prepared by yours truly (it's not conceit if it's true right?). Rice and beans with mixed sauteed veggies, a pound of talapia and a pound of shrimp. With a nice, spicy and semi-latino sabor (flavor), our meal paired well with a few Caronas and some great music. I love sailing...
Monday made for the beginning of my boat work week. I had the J30 (White Dolphin) and more work on the Witch Doc to address. We have been working on an instrument panel for the Dolphin for months now. It is fabricated out of fiberglass and form fitted to the companion way hatch cover. Dan McGraw (the W Dolph owner) has picked up some TackTick wind, speed and heading components that we want mounted within view of all the pit crew. Now with the instruments mounted mid ship and high, they will be very visible to the crew and it looks super clean.
On the Doctor, I was still battling with the solenoid, but I also sorted out the Flying Dutchman system on the main as well as putting the new R2 unit on HouDingy (a late 60's 10 horse outboard that damn sure looks as if it belongs on a Star Fleet cruiser). The days flew by and before I new it, it was Wednesday. Trey the Skipper was en route. The Charleston Yacht Club parking lot was wonderfully full of Melges 20's, Melges 24's, J 24's and J80's. Every morning since my arrival, I meandered through the boats to see whom had shown up over night. Occasionally I found friends to harass. It is great to make acquaintances from all over and see them when you are doing what you love.
On Wednesday afternoon, I finished my boat work early and took off on my bike. I had heard roomer of a skatepark under the I26 bridge. There are a lot of bridges going to and coming from I26, so I just started riding. I love rolling through Chucktown, especially down King, Meeting, Broad and through the markets. There are obstacles that I would love to hit, but I am respectful of historic private property. Now MUSC is NOT historic, so I consider their ledges and stairs fair game. As I had been riding for nearly an hour, I was starting to look for The Recovery Room now rather than the mystery skatepark. I rode directly under 26 where it merges with 17 and happened to look way down to my right; well under the bridge. I thought I saw a 20" biker. I stopped and concentrated. It was a BMXer for sure. But damn did the area look sketchy. Since I wasn't really in the market for some crack or a prostitute (I mean hell, it was only 4 pm) I was hesitant to roll down. Fuck it, I head towards the rider then noticed that it was not one, but three riders. AND there were ramps! Granted, they were ghetto ramps, only a 5' wedge to quarter and a 4' quarter (it had originally been the downside of a jump box) but they were ramps none the less. The most attractive attributes were the three foot high rail followed by a 20" high angle ironed ledge followed by a 16" high round rail. It made for a great run and I was pumped to riding rails again. It had been forever!
I kept the session short since I had a long ride back and I didn't really want to get hurt the day before race week began.
My typing time is up... more to come
I made a new friend from further down J dock. Matt, a naval officer, joined Mary and me for a wonderful dinner prepared by yours truly (it's not conceit if it's true right?). Rice and beans with mixed sauteed veggies, a pound of talapia and a pound of shrimp. With a nice, spicy and semi-latino sabor (flavor), our meal paired well with a few Caronas and some great music. I love sailing...
Monday made for the beginning of my boat work week. I had the J30 (White Dolphin) and more work on the Witch Doc to address. We have been working on an instrument panel for the Dolphin for months now. It is fabricated out of fiberglass and form fitted to the companion way hatch cover. Dan McGraw (the W Dolph owner) has picked up some TackTick wind, speed and heading components that we want mounted within view of all the pit crew. Now with the instruments mounted mid ship and high, they will be very visible to the crew and it looks super clean.
On the Doctor, I was still battling with the solenoid, but I also sorted out the Flying Dutchman system on the main as well as putting the new R2 unit on HouDingy (a late 60's 10 horse outboard that damn sure looks as if it belongs on a Star Fleet cruiser). The days flew by and before I new it, it was Wednesday. Trey the Skipper was en route. The Charleston Yacht Club parking lot was wonderfully full of Melges 20's, Melges 24's, J 24's and J80's. Every morning since my arrival, I meandered through the boats to see whom had shown up over night. Occasionally I found friends to harass. It is great to make acquaintances from all over and see them when you are doing what you love.
On Wednesday afternoon, I finished my boat work early and took off on my bike. I had heard roomer of a skatepark under the I26 bridge. There are a lot of bridges going to and coming from I26, so I just started riding. I love rolling through Chucktown, especially down King, Meeting, Broad and through the markets. There are obstacles that I would love to hit, but I am respectful of historic private property. Now MUSC is NOT historic, so I consider their ledges and stairs fair game. As I had been riding for nearly an hour, I was starting to look for The Recovery Room now rather than the mystery skatepark. I rode directly under 26 where it merges with 17 and happened to look way down to my right; well under the bridge. I thought I saw a 20" biker. I stopped and concentrated. It was a BMXer for sure. But damn did the area look sketchy. Since I wasn't really in the market for some crack or a prostitute (I mean hell, it was only 4 pm) I was hesitant to roll down. Fuck it, I head towards the rider then noticed that it was not one, but three riders. AND there were ramps! Granted, they were ghetto ramps, only a 5' wedge to quarter and a 4' quarter (it had originally been the downside of a jump box) but they were ramps none the less. The most attractive attributes were the three foot high rail followed by a 20" high angle ironed ledge followed by a 16" high round rail. It made for a great run and I was pumped to riding rails again. It had been forever!
I kept the session short since I had a long ride back and I didn't really want to get hurt the day before race week began.
My typing time is up... more to come
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
"If you can't please yourself, who can you please" and other pertinent quotes
Over the last two weeks, I've had the privilege of living breathing sailboats, sailors and the people who love to put up with sailors. Starting on the 5th of April, sometime after 5pm I hit the road with plenty of luggage, my four legged travel partner Juda, two BMX bikes and an a laptop (that was horribly neglected). I was Chucktown bound to work on, sail on and live on an assortment of boats and yachts. I arrived at the Witch Doctor around 10 and was disappointed to find that I had missed last call at Salty Mike's. No worries, I had places to be at 7 AM. I established myself in the Doc's salon and quickly went to counting sheep. Bright and early in the AM, I took with Juda for Bruegger's; delish. After a great Leonardo De Veggie on a Jalapeño bagel, I got in touch with my client. Ended up that he was well behind schedule so I sat in the truck for only a moment before I realized the perfect set up that was before me. A perfect little ledge for some BMX fun. After spending an hour trying ice pics, 180 to double peg and smiths, the little Volvo that could pulled into the parking lot. Fortunately I was riding bike backwards and was able to flash a big childish grin at my client. Here was a 35 year old craftsman and business owner who he was about to let work on his clients $10 million home riding a "kid's" bike. WTF? Right, well those who know me, know how I roll. After courtesies, I threw my bike in the truck and we head out to Remley's Point.
While I tore up subflooring and re framed a floor system, my fam damily was headed into Chucktown. This was to be the first time that my daughter, son, baby's mama and I had sailed together since our first sail ever at OSA years ago. How lucky I am that Trae (my ex) and I are able to be friends and do take trips as a family. I was a little apprehensive about stuffing us all into a 33' Choey Lee Offshore, but it went seamlessly. Oh, don't forget Diesel, the 85lbs Doberman Pincer... Again, no issues, the Witch Doc is flexible.
I arrived back at the boat in the late afternoon and T-rae and I head to the Teeter leaving to kids on watch at the Doc. We returned with plenty of great food, loads of beer and some great bottles of wine. After ordering a pizza we let the kids watch a little telli and we watched the sun set over a number of bottles. Sleep.
On Thursday, I was up early and headed out to Remley's. I worked only a half day while the fam laid low and lazy on the boat. Upon my return, we grilled up some veggie brats and enjoyed a few more adult beverages. We then took a walk down Rainbow Row see the sites and piss off the kids. After an hour or so of walking, we returned to ready the boat and set the sails. We planned a sail across the harbor and up Shem's Creek to Red's Ice House. The wind was blowing about 18kts out of the ESE and we were on a beam reach. Stay sail and main alone meant that tacking was a effortless. No need to even put down your beer! We were doing 7 to 8kts through the water at low tide flooding. It was beautiful. The plotter didn't do a great job showing the entrance of the channel so I put Trae on the helm and head below to check out the harbor chart. We had already tacked towards the channel mouth but I wasn't quite sure whether to go around a shoal or go through the cut. Not 2 minutes later, the boat lunged forward. OOps. I skipped topside and dumped the sails. The depth was showing 3' and we draw nearly 5'. The 18kts of wind was pushing us directly into the shallow. I cranked the motor and evaluated the plotter trying to establish where to head. I assigned Trae to the sails asking her to trim them both in to heel the boat over. Under full throttle we weren't doing anything but skipping across the sandy bottom. After dumping the sails again, I spied a big motor boat about 100 yds off of our port bow. I hailed them on VHF but then turned them away realizing that they too drew too much draft. The tide was coming in so the fam shut down the motor, grabbed a couple of freshies and cranked up the tunes. About ten minutes passed before I realized that Skipper Trey had a Boat Tow US card. Hell yes. We were out and on our way 15 minutes later! After a decent fried food meal, we head back across the harbor and back to our slip. It was a beautiful night...
Friday morning, we cooked a great breakfast of veggie and cheese omelets, bagels, tea and OJ. After packing the family up, we rolled out to the beach. We took some pics, did some skim boarding and watched the dogs in the water. I had to say my goodbyes at lunch time and was again boat bound.
Upon reaching the Doc, I readied the boat. The skipper was soon to be in town along with Jen and Sher. The Witch was now spotless and well stocked. Around 9, I got the text to meet the crew at the dock house so we could head out for sushi and sake. I passed since I was in dire need of a shower. By 10, I was fresh, clean, like a million bucks and ready for the night to begin. At 10:30, I got the text "make the boat a ready." Hell yes we were headed out for a nice night on the water.
I think that my crew may have drank all the sake in Charleston. Everyone was well pissed! There was laughing and broken conversation, but we tightened up to shove off. Even just motoring through the night waters is beautiful, but add a little Schwayze and good company, and it is astounding. The weather was perfect. Trey and I passed out in the cockpit; surely after hours of deep conversation! HA!
The morning was beautiful, but everyones' livers were busy working overtime. I missed out on the sake so I wasn't too bad. Jen brought up the anchor and I got us underway. I enjoyed the breeze and the cool morning as the crew stayed in the reclined position for the return voyage.
Ahh Saturday morning... we had experienced some starter issues on the water so we paid attention to the solenoid at dock. It seamed to make a difference so next on the agenda was to hit the Teeter and get ready for a great night of cooking and boating. The weather forecast to be be cloudy with scattered showers. Our spirits weren't dampened though and Skipper started rallying the troops. Before long, we were at near capacity with Caroline, Brian, Trey, Sher and a couple of other motley individuals. We loaded the icebox with beer, booze, fish and veggies. On the water, the wind was up in the teens again. There were even some gusts in the 20's, but the right boat and the right crew makes for a righteous time. Caroline was on the helm while the rest of the rebels were hanging (sometimes literally) all over the boat. From the windward to leeward rails to resting on the filled main to doing a "Titanic" on the bow pulpit to riding HouDinghy 20 yards behind the boat! Again, the Witch Doctor delivers. We traveled a ways up the Wando and the wind seemed to lay down. We came about for everyone was getting hungry and we needed to flatten the boat out to fire up the grill. I had already prepped the talapia in a nice spicy marinade. In addition we had grilled peppers, tomatoes and mushrooms. I had also made a pico de gallo earlier in the day. Soon we were munching on some incredible fish tacos.
And that's were it got fuzzy...So I remember the motor wouldn't crank (the solenoid again). We sailed into the slip under stay sail alone; seamlessly I might add. After the boat was made at the dock, the drinking stepped up a notch. I remember that there was more food brought over by Timmy (the slip mate). I recall kinda, Mary coming over (other slip mate). Then came out the moonshine? That was the end of my memory. Next thing you know, it was time to go to bed. Hmmmm. Ok, there was a lot that went on in between moonshine coming out going to bed. I've heard that someone fell over board no names or anything but he has hippy hair and a hairy chest. Then apparently, that same guy was super cool and continued swimming and trying to get naked. Whomever that guy was, let's hope that he stays away for a while... he was rowdy! I can't guarantee these events for I just heard about them the next day.
Moving on, there was a wonderful meal cooked, roasted green peppers, roasted tomatoes, grilled chicken, more talapia and boatloads of boozing. What a great crowd!
Astonishingly, Sunday wasn't too rough. I had a practice sail scheduled for high noon on the J130 (Solarus). After paying even more attention to the WD's solenoid issue, I head out for cooper river marina.
More to come
While I tore up subflooring and re framed a floor system, my fam damily was headed into Chucktown. This was to be the first time that my daughter, son, baby's mama and I had sailed together since our first sail ever at OSA years ago. How lucky I am that Trae (my ex) and I are able to be friends and do take trips as a family. I was a little apprehensive about stuffing us all into a 33' Choey Lee Offshore, but it went seamlessly. Oh, don't forget Diesel, the 85lbs Doberman Pincer... Again, no issues, the Witch Doc is flexible.
I arrived back at the boat in the late afternoon and T-rae and I head to the Teeter leaving to kids on watch at the Doc. We returned with plenty of great food, loads of beer and some great bottles of wine. After ordering a pizza we let the kids watch a little telli and we watched the sun set over a number of bottles. Sleep.
On Thursday, I was up early and headed out to Remley's. I worked only a half day while the fam laid low and lazy on the boat. Upon my return, we grilled up some veggie brats and enjoyed a few more adult beverages. We then took a walk down Rainbow Row see the sites and piss off the kids. After an hour or so of walking, we returned to ready the boat and set the sails. We planned a sail across the harbor and up Shem's Creek to Red's Ice House. The wind was blowing about 18kts out of the ESE and we were on a beam reach. Stay sail and main alone meant that tacking was a effortless. No need to even put down your beer! We were doing 7 to 8kts through the water at low tide flooding. It was beautiful. The plotter didn't do a great job showing the entrance of the channel so I put Trae on the helm and head below to check out the harbor chart. We had already tacked towards the channel mouth but I wasn't quite sure whether to go around a shoal or go through the cut. Not 2 minutes later, the boat lunged forward. OOps. I skipped topside and dumped the sails. The depth was showing 3' and we draw nearly 5'. The 18kts of wind was pushing us directly into the shallow. I cranked the motor and evaluated the plotter trying to establish where to head. I assigned Trae to the sails asking her to trim them both in to heel the boat over. Under full throttle we weren't doing anything but skipping across the sandy bottom. After dumping the sails again, I spied a big motor boat about 100 yds off of our port bow. I hailed them on VHF but then turned them away realizing that they too drew too much draft. The tide was coming in so the fam shut down the motor, grabbed a couple of freshies and cranked up the tunes. About ten minutes passed before I realized that Skipper Trey had a Boat Tow US card. Hell yes. We were out and on our way 15 minutes later! After a decent fried food meal, we head back across the harbor and back to our slip. It was a beautiful night...
Friday morning, we cooked a great breakfast of veggie and cheese omelets, bagels, tea and OJ. After packing the family up, we rolled out to the beach. We took some pics, did some skim boarding and watched the dogs in the water. I had to say my goodbyes at lunch time and was again boat bound.
Upon reaching the Doc, I readied the boat. The skipper was soon to be in town along with Jen and Sher. The Witch was now spotless and well stocked. Around 9, I got the text to meet the crew at the dock house so we could head out for sushi and sake. I passed since I was in dire need of a shower. By 10, I was fresh, clean, like a million bucks and ready for the night to begin. At 10:30, I got the text "make the boat a ready." Hell yes we were headed out for a nice night on the water.
I think that my crew may have drank all the sake in Charleston. Everyone was well pissed! There was laughing and broken conversation, but we tightened up to shove off. Even just motoring through the night waters is beautiful, but add a little Schwayze and good company, and it is astounding. The weather was perfect. Trey and I passed out in the cockpit; surely after hours of deep conversation! HA!
The morning was beautiful, but everyones' livers were busy working overtime. I missed out on the sake so I wasn't too bad. Jen brought up the anchor and I got us underway. I enjoyed the breeze and the cool morning as the crew stayed in the reclined position for the return voyage.
Ahh Saturday morning... we had experienced some starter issues on the water so we paid attention to the solenoid at dock. It seamed to make a difference so next on the agenda was to hit the Teeter and get ready for a great night of cooking and boating. The weather forecast to be be cloudy with scattered showers. Our spirits weren't dampened though and Skipper started rallying the troops. Before long, we were at near capacity with Caroline, Brian, Trey, Sher and a couple of other motley individuals. We loaded the icebox with beer, booze, fish and veggies. On the water, the wind was up in the teens again. There were even some gusts in the 20's, but the right boat and the right crew makes for a righteous time. Caroline was on the helm while the rest of the rebels were hanging (sometimes literally) all over the boat. From the windward to leeward rails to resting on the filled main to doing a "Titanic" on the bow pulpit to riding HouDinghy 20 yards behind the boat! Again, the Witch Doctor delivers. We traveled a ways up the Wando and the wind seemed to lay down. We came about for everyone was getting hungry and we needed to flatten the boat out to fire up the grill. I had already prepped the talapia in a nice spicy marinade. In addition we had grilled peppers, tomatoes and mushrooms. I had also made a pico de gallo earlier in the day. Soon we were munching on some incredible fish tacos.
And that's were it got fuzzy...So I remember the motor wouldn't crank (the solenoid again). We sailed into the slip under stay sail alone; seamlessly I might add. After the boat was made at the dock, the drinking stepped up a notch. I remember that there was more food brought over by Timmy (the slip mate). I recall kinda, Mary coming over (other slip mate). Then came out the moonshine? That was the end of my memory. Next thing you know, it was time to go to bed. Hmmmm. Ok, there was a lot that went on in between moonshine coming out going to bed. I've heard that someone fell over board no names or anything but he has hippy hair and a hairy chest. Then apparently, that same guy was super cool and continued swimming and trying to get naked. Whomever that guy was, let's hope that he stays away for a while... he was rowdy! I can't guarantee these events for I just heard about them the next day.
Moving on, there was a wonderful meal cooked, roasted green peppers, roasted tomatoes, grilled chicken, more talapia and boatloads of boozing. What a great crowd!
Astonishingly, Sunday wasn't too rough. I had a practice sail scheduled for high noon on the J130 (Solarus). After paying even more attention to the WD's solenoid issue, I head out for cooper river marina.
More to come
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