Slainte

Thanks, Tillerman, for the photo. 

I am a worm, sir.  A wiggly worm.

In my most vivid memories, I may have achieved 

half that form at best, and remembered it to this 

day as the greatest accomplishment of my life. 

This girl rocks.

TOYC The Scuttlebutt

MillieMac, you rule.  We're so happy

to be part of such a great bunch of sailors!

What Do We Have Here?

Been way too long for a 'guess the ingredients' post.

4 vegetables, 3 herbs, 1 protein, 1 citrus fruit, 

1 bottled condiment,  1 vegetable juice, salt and pepper.

The first reader to name all of the ingredients wins.

Eight years ago today, we lost the man smoking the

cigar at the helm.  But yesterday the man in the 

foreground, my Stepfather, crewed for me in my

boat.  It was the first time in well over twenty years

that we had raced together.  It was a refresher

course for me on how to make the boat move no

matter how little wind there actually was.  Bob hasn't 

raced a boat in ages, but you never forget something

that you understand so well.  Kinda like riding a bike.

In light winds yesterday, we had a decent start, were

second around the windward mark, and put a ton of 

space between us and the rest of the fleet.  

We would have retained that second place had the 

race not been called due to the time limit.  We got

within a hundred yards of the finish and the wind 

completely vanished.  We kept urging the boat 

about, but made no progress toward the line, like 

there was an invisible forcefield.  I equate it to the 

dream I have once in a while where I'm running as 

hard as I can but I can't move forward.

It was just like that.

During the race, we had a few good conversations,

and at one point I mentioned that Sunday the 15th 

was the eight year anniversary of Jim's death.  Bob

said how he really missed my Dad, and I agreed. It

got a little quiet for a moment. 

My Brother and I are so fortunate to have had two 

Dads, who were friends before my parents' divorce, 

and for so much longer afterward.  Two mentors for 

sailing, and more importantly, for life.  Lucky

Bus Mosbacher

I wonder if Stew Johnson is still around.........

Here's the Beef!

Feel Like a Kid Again

MillieMac's husband sent this over to me, and a couple other great

 pics, scanned from postcards that he's had for decades. These are 

old enough that even I don't recognize the sail numbers.

This musty postcard from Sea Isle City shows what I

perceive to be as a small gaggle of Mothboats before

a start, with an attractive spectator in the foreground.

Gilford Park is east of Island Heights, on the Toms

River.  Comets were a prolific class back in the day.

The hull says Sailfish, but the sail says knock-off.

Observe the Sunfish imposter Scorpion in the late

60's and early 70's.

Consecutive Sailouts

Out again today, with less heat and humidity and a mellow East 

wind.  This is looking through the BI (Barnegat Inlet) marker to

Barnegat Lighthouse.  It was so quiet out there.  What a 

difference a day makes.

Those two boats went out ahead of me and ended up reading 

my transom.  Typical.

These gems came from the area of the first photo:

Barnegat Light.  There're thyme sprigs and whole 

butter in the pan with which I basted the scallops.

It really doesn't get any better.

Better Late Than Never

Thanks to MillieMac for the photo.

It's nice to get a shot from somewhere other

than the cockpit.  First time in a month that 

man and wife sailed together today.

Jersey tomatoes and fresh mootz with backdoor chives and basil.

Roasted New Egypt beetroot about to be sliced and marinated.

Yes, that's a bay leaf.  Nothing is simple in my kitchen.

The white corn is coming tomorrow.  I'll be first in line.

Penang curry and coconut chicken, grilled over hickory. 

  I got home tired and sweaty, spent an hour and a

 half getting dinner together, and it finally felt like summer was here.

Workfourth

It was the first time in twenty-seven years that I've had to work

on the 4th of July.  When one gets used to this privilege of being 

off on Independence Day, the mere thought of arriving at his

place of employment on this date immediately conjures waves 

of self-pity, a flood of sorrowful thoughts, a shower of mixed 

emotions.  I was so far removed from the water, the boat,

a barbecue, a beer....I might as well have been on the moon.

I spent the day with a bunch of people who, like me, thought 

that this day would be a complete waste of everyone's time.  

No way we were gonna be busy enough to justify being here

 for twelve hours, cover the payroll, utilities, utilities, (I didn't

mention that lately it's been in the mid-nineties and humid,

and we have a big space with 10+ foot ceilings, making it

really difficult to maintain a temp of less than 80 degrees in the

dining room, mid-day).  Our four deck, rotating pizza oven burns

at 550 all day long, and our ventilation hoods suck every square

inch of cool that our air conditioners can produce, out the roof, 

every second of the day.  A Sisyphusian dilemma, for sure.

But it wasn't that Goddamn bad.  We had stragglers pretty much

all day long.  Around 12:30, a lady came in and ordered 100 wings 

and two large pies to go.  I envisioned ten kids at a pool, and how 

happy they'd be when Mrs. Smith showed up with the pizza and

wings.  Don't forget to eat the celery!  A lot more pizza to go,

steadily, for the rest of the day.  7:15 saw a 12-top of local senior

citizens (many retirement communities within 10 minutes, and a 

good portion of them are not retiring poor).  

I know that today, most of my friends were sailing, on the beach,

 or at the pool, or in someone's backyard with a glass of Malbec

in their hand.  I surely would've rather been there with them,

but after being on the dole for a year and a half, I'm happy to have

put in a 12 hour day to help the company.  

When I got home tonight, the wiener dog greeted me like she 

hadn't seen me in a month, and my beautiful wife gave me a big kiss.

Daddy's home.  Where's the rum?