Weapon of Mass-Satisfaction

What is this and how is it related to something 'raked'?

First clue:  O Docker ranted about the term I used 

for the raked substance.

Second clue: Where'd I see that?

BBYRA Kick-off

Today is the first BBYRA race day of the summer of 2013.

It's being co-hosted by Metedeconk River and Bay Head Yacht

Clubs.  Since neither of the clubs are adjacent to either racecourse

used by the BBYRA, Mantoloking Yacht Club is the base of 

operations, having access to the upbay, or Green Island course.

This course map is from 1976, and I don't
believe the buoy placement is the same
these days.  It does, however, give you
a good idea of today's race area.

Bay Head Yacht Club

Metedeconk River Yacht Club

I spent many summer days at MRYC, being just across

 the river from South Drive, and I think there

are still a couple of our banners hanging from the rafters.

I haven't sailed in a Bay race in decades, but I still

think about them every summer Saturday.  This year 

marks the 100th year of the Barnegat Bay Yacht

Racing Association.  Check out the trailer for a film

to be released next year celebrating this New

Jersey shore tradition

What The Fuck

If you didn't watch, your loss.  

If you didn't get it, you're not from Jersey.

Two Fathers' Two Fathers

Jim, Dave, Hans, and Bob, on Bob's MC 1, E motion.

As with many families, parents eventually realize they're not meant

to be together for eternity, so they divorce and very often re-marry.

A lot of the time, the break-ups are bitter and the kids suffer the

consequences. My brother and I were fortunate in that although

our parents had their difficult years, they both found someone

to continue life with.  All parties were either friends, crewmates,

 sailing acquaintances, or all of the above. Life in those days

largely revolved around sailing. 

The Murphy Nye sail means that the day started out with light
wind.  Evidently it picked up, as seen in this photo.  Had Dad known, he
may have gone with a flatter Seidelman main instead. 

Because of the common interests of  the parties involved, there

was not only a civil acceptance of the new spouses, but a 

friendly and sociable relationship emerged.  My brother and I

lived with our Mom and Bob, but spent most summer weekends

with Dad and Jill, sailing and racing.  However, all of us were on 

the Bay on Saturdays.  One race with Dad in the

morning in the Penguin, then maybe on Bob's E scow in the 

afternoon.  Or Laser in the morning, and Dad's E scow in the

afternoon.  There were many permutations by which we

spent our summer Saturdays.  The continued involvement

in racing almost guaranteed that we'd all be somewhat bonded.

Dad's scow, MC2, Repechage.  Google 'repechage' if you want.
MC is for Metedeconk.

So much for the history lesson.  I don't remember for sure but

I have to believe there were at least a handful of Fathers' days

that we were on a boat together, or at least around boats.  How

could we not have been?  Sunday?, in the summer?

Jim and Bob on the patio at 829 South Drive, on the Metedeconk.

I'm lucky to have had two sailing mentors, two life mentors, two

 Dads.  Happy Fathers' Day, Bob, Hans, and all the Dads out there!  

I'll say HFD to Dad tomorrow when we're out on the Bay.

Bloody, Clam-Diggin' Patriot

Try this drink on for size:  Bluecoat American dry gin, V8, Old Bay,

chipotle Tabasco, Worcestershire, and lemon.  Shake the hell out

of it with 4 clam broth ice cubes for thirty seconds, then pour into 

glass. Add two more clam cubes, cause they break down when 

shaken, seeing that there's a higher salt content making them softer 

than plain frozen water. Garnish with celery stalk.

As the drink gets smaller, you get closer and closer to the Bay.

You dig?

And If Your Head Explodes With Dark Forebodings Too

Knot Rocket Science

If there's one knot a sailor needs to know, it's the bowline.

If you need to secure your painter to a piling, tie a bowline.

If you need to tie your spinnaker sheet to the spinnaker

clue grommet, tie a bowline.  If the keg is floating away from 

the hoist area, tie a bowline to the tap assembly.  And so on.

I'm up on my extension ladder against an oak tree with 

my chainsaw.  There's a fairly thick limb that I want to cut 

down.  I don't want to fall whilst chainsawing said limb, 

so I tie myself around the trunk of the tree with a bowline.

The examples are endless.  A foolproof knot to use in

everyday situations.  Everyone needs to learn this knot.

Learn it.  Know it.  Use it. 

Cracked!

Could this have been the start of a pattern?

What I Intended To Say. Or Not

The two readers to whom I had connections in the last post were

Tillerman and Mojo. Mom, or Mojo, if you're reading this, 

you need to tell me where I went wrong grammatically.  

It's horrific every time I re-read it.

Tillerman has run alongside Carnegie Lake on the canal towpath and

Mojo rowed for the Bulldogs against the Tigers at least a few times.

He trained with the Bulldog Masters 8 this past weekend on the 

same body of water in preparation for some 

Henley shindig in July of this year.  Watch for the report!

This mug was a trophy I received for being a dumb nine-year old 

who pulled the string to twist the mast in the direction of the wind

every time my Dad tacked the red Penguin, Wassail.  Evidently,

I twisted the mast well enough for us to place that fall

Saturday morning on Carnegie Lake in Princeton, NJ, one of the 

few worst places to race a sailboat in the state of New Jersey.

Where are the other places you might ask? Hmmmmmm.

Lake Hopatcong.  Packanack Lake.

After the morning races, we all packed up the boats and went into 

town to Palmer Stadium, where the Princeton Tigers hosted Colgate.

It was there that I realized where toothpaste came from.     

O Docker and Tillerman remembered the championship summers

in their comments, and I commend them for that.  I'm touched.

O.K., What's this?

Where Did The Time Go?

Tomorrow is Commencement, but their plaque is already embedded

on the East end of Nassau Hall.  It was the scene of countless

photo opportunities today, and I swooped in with my cell phone

to grab a shot.  I hope Tim visits it before he leaves.

A sign I'd seen over five thousand times before. 

And every first Tuesday in June, this is the scene just across

Nassau Street. I'm thrilled to say that the weather is supposed to

be perfect tomorrow; much better than cramming into Jadwin Gym. 

I've mentioned Tim a few times over the past three years, usually

referring to his Water Polo prowess.  More importantly, he's an 

exceptional student and a perfect gentleman. He's my cousin

Julie's son, or my first cousin-once removed.  I have no interest

in removing him.  I prefer to call him my nephew. 

We had a backyard gathering yesterday to celebrate with Tim,

since Tuesday's ceremony is limited to immediate family.

The weather held out and it was essentially OFD in June.

I was a bit melancholy today, replaying in my mind highlights 

of yesterday's shindig, thinking about the fact that he won't 

be right up the road any more.  Considering he had been so 

close-by for four years, we still only saw him a few times a year, 

but it was knowing that he was around the corner that was 

comforting.  He knew that if he was ever in need of anything,

he had us.  And since he was here, we got to see his parents

more than usual, which at best is every other year otherwise.

We have high expectations for this guy, and we're confident

he won't let anybody down.  Go get 'em Tiger!!

We love you, man.