by "Distraxi's idea of perfection is a Jagroen" (distraxi)
Published 06/07/2017 at 03:16
by "Distraxi's idea of perfection is a Jagroen" (distraxi)
Published 06/07/2017 at 03:16
Tags: AMERICA'S CUP
; boatlopnik
STARS: 2
40mph to zero in about 20 feet. That’s gotta hurt! This year’s America’s Cup is making for some pretty exciting racing.
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Nobody seriously injured and they’ll probably be back on the water tomorrow, but ouch!
"Distraxi's idea of perfection is a Jagroen" (distraxi)
06/07/2017 at 06:07, STARS: 5
I have pitchpoled my Hobie at about 1/3 of the speed that these guys were doing. Or, kinetic energy being proportional to speed squared, at about 10% of the severity. It was no fun at all. I can say with some confidence that you should not try this at home.
"MonkeePuzzle" (monkeypuzzle)
06/07/2017 at 09:44, STARS: 2
same (but a caper cat). there is a LOT of gear to collide with or become entangled in on a boat. not fun.
"TheRealBicycleBuck" (therealbicyclebuck)
06/07/2017 at 10:11, STARS: 2
The day of my first sailing lesson, I was taught what it meant to “submarine” and why the jib bridle is commonly known as the “cheese slicer.” My instructor told me that if we were to go submarine, I was to jump as hard as I could so I the trapeze would carry me over the bridle and I wouldn’t have to experience what it was like to be a block of cheese.
"Distraxi's idea of perfection is a Jagroen" (distraxi)
06/07/2017 at 20:32, STARS: 1
I’m just impressed that your first day of sailing lessons was in something with a trapeze. That’s like learning to drive in a Lamborghini.
And yes, missing the slicy bits is good. I have a permanent lump on my shin, from bone regrowth after hitting a sidestay on the way past one time I went in.
"TheRealBicycleBuck" (therealbicyclebuck)
06/08/2017 at 06:53, STARS: 3
That’s a bit of a long story. I won a scholarship to spend the summer after my freshman year of high school at a university research station on Lake Texoma. My freshman biology teacher decided that since he had written one of my recommendation letters, he should come visit to make sure I was living up to expectations. He liked the place so much that he made arrangements to spend the rest of his summer at the station. Although he did work on some of his graduate coursework, his real pursuit was one of the cute grad students spending her summer at the station.
He also decided that every young man should know how to sail and was determined to teach me. So, he brought along the only boat he had - a Hobie 16.
Our first outing was a bit of a disaster. The station sits at the corner of a tributary where it meets the lake. There’s a cove out front protected by a tree-covered peninsula which creates an area with light winds, perfect for beginning sailors. He decided to start with a short ride to get me familiar with the boat and provide a little excitement to get me interested in learning.
He did a brief orientation, then put me out on the trapeze to get the full experience. When we sailed past the end of the protected zone, an unexpected gust of wind got us flying before he was ready. I was already standing on the upwind hull, so you can imagine my surprise at finding myself 10 feet off the water. It was exhilarating.
The only problem was the main sheet cleat jammed, so he couldn’t get any slack. He laid back over the hull to give more counterweight, but it looked like we were going over. That’s when the wind died.
The hull dropped back to the the after faster than he could sit up, so he went overboard head-first. Fortunately(?), the little boat decided she needed her captain, so she wrapped the main sheet around his ankle and held tight. The breeze picked up again and she started heading across the lake to the opposite shore, her captain in tow.
I was standing on the hull trying to wrap my teenage brain around the situation. My teacher was trying to give me instructions while also trying to avoid drowning. I must say the instructions weren’t very good. Between the burbles and sputtering, he would yell, “turn it into the wind!” We must be clear here I had no idea HOW to turn it into the wind. I didn’t even know how to get myself off the trapeze to get to the tiller.
As you can guess, I finally figured it out. My teacher lost his favorite Raybans and a bit of his pride, but to his credit, carried on and taught me how to sail.
It was one of the best summers of my life.