I'm back!

Well, I've rejoined the world again. I've spent the last month preparing for and recovering from surgery -- voluntary surgery. I got myself a lap-band! I kind of like to call it 'lap-dance surgery' because it will enable me to 'entertain' my future husband without... you know... snapping his femur or whatnot.

The tie-in with sailing is obvious:

1. all mast-dancing, all the time.


2. increasing my yacht racing prowess (which will more than make up for my decrease in ballast-ability)

If you'll excuse me now, it's time for me to go enjoy a spoonful of cottage cheese.

tow vehicle decision - part three

Closure is a beautiful thing, and I am here to both obtain it and provide it in this post -- a closure double-play! Using the evaluation criteria from my last post on this topic, I will arrive at the best decision for my 2009 tow vehicle needs by using a method I like to call ''help-I'm-going-all-neurotic-and-overthinking-stuff-again,' or HIGANOSA for those who prefer made-up acronym-type words.

At first, I tried to assign a score to each combination of option and criterium without assigning a weighting to the criteria just to keep it simple, but then I realized that I would definitely need to assign relative weightings to each criterium. For example, it wouldn't be appropriate to give equal importance to potential for disaster and scalable, since (1) I seem to leave a trail of disasters in my wake everywhere I go and then I go all helpless, vulnerable female and I hate it when I do that, and (2) I'm not planning to buy a bigger boat anytime soon.... unless I marry a sailor or otherwise 'marry up' or something. Therefore, I assigned a weighting of 10 to potential for disaster and a 4 to scalable.

Based on this method -- or "methodology," if you're one of those people who prefer to use meaningless, annoying execu-speak [and I'm whistling innocently as I type this] -- I came up with the following:

Each score indicates the attractiveness of the option for each criteria. (I initially screwed this up completely, and I just spent the past 20 minutes still reeling from utter confusion.) For example, for Cost, continue to mooch off friends gets a 9 (because it's mostly free) while buy a honda pilot gets a 0 (because the car payment would feel more like a mortgage payment.)

So after all this flailing and obsessing, here's how things shook out:




I guess I'll be mooching off my friends at the club for one more year! I'll bring the coffee, donuts, and adult-type beverages to express my gratitude for their cheerful generosity! Renting a truck (as suggested by my friend J.P. Clowes, the sailor who taught me humility at my first regatta in 2006 when he crossed the finish line in his Daysailer II before I rounded the first mark in my Capri 18) was a close second. I'm a little surprised that buy a pilot came in 3rd, ahead of buy a beater truck. I'm not sure if the scalability and dependability of the Pilot is really sufficient to support buying a $35,000 vehicle. My checkbook most certainly doth NOT runneth over. As an aside, I recently spent a lot of time at my Honda dealership having my CR-V (178k miles and still running like a dream!) checked out. Just to kill time and have fun with the sales-boys, I went outside to gape at the Pilots, and then I went inside to ask some questions about the towing capacity and stuff like that. All three of the sales-boys were falling all over each other to give me their business cards and brochures and stuff. Good times. Have I mentioned that I like boys? I like boys a lot. Anyway, one of the boys came to see me in the service department waiting room and gave me more of his Pilot pitch and a second business card. I told him that in all honesty I would have a difficult time justifying the purchase of a vehicle that seats seven for just me and my dog. Sales boys have an answer for every objection (because that's their job and all), and his answer to this was that my dog could have the option of sitting in a different seat every time we went for a ride. I told him I would talk it over with my dog, and if she would willing to get a job and help with the payments, I would consider trading in my CR-V right away. Otherwise, I intend to drive the CR-V until the day it dies -- at least another 100k miles or so. Judy Jetson was not open to considering the whole job concept. She was all 'What? Go to work instead of just napping all day? You've got to be kidding me!' Yeah, Mommy knows, bubula.... Mommy knows.

Judy 'take that job and shove it' Jetson

... Anyway, so there it is. The mooching begins sometime after Launch Day, which is April 1st! I hope that you have enjoyed this Journey of Discovery with me. Okay - if you need me, I'll be upstairs cataloging my handbags by 'cubic inches of storage space.'

mile high club, cortisone shot, etc.

Ha! That sure got your attention, eh?!

I'm here in Portland, and the city is so very pretty at night! On my flight to O'Hare, we passed over Lake Michigan, but I didn't see any boats. Shortly before we landed in Portland, we passed over an impressive body of water (the Columbia River, I'm guessing?!) and I saw a huge sailboat marina. I'm wondering if this is the river where my pal Greg - aka "Dr. One" -- sails. (Greg?)

My flight from Chicago to Portland was interesting. I shared the exit row with a couple from Orlando who had spent their entire 4.5-hour Chicago layover at the bar... doing shots of Finlandia. They both passed out immediately after takeoff and slept for two hours. They were feeling a little frisky when they awoke, and I was starting to worry that they might try to 'seal the deal' right there in the exit row. It was a little awkward. I turned up the volume on the satellite radio (80s on 8 !!!) and buried my nose a little deeper into my Cruising World magazine.

Let me get to the second, less-sexy part of this post's title. (I don't care what the clock radio in my hotel room says. It is 11:40 PM to me!) Okay... In the midst of packing up all of the extraneous stuff in my house to put in storage while my house is on the market, I strained my left shoulder. I figured it was a pulled muscle or something and assumed that once the heavy lifting was over it would heal right up. I consulted with Bro, a Physical Therapist who does phone consultations with his hypochondriac sister, and his diagnosis was *Bursitis.* He sounded very grim when he said it, and that took all the wind out of my sails. Bro's wife (also a PT) told me that she had it once and it didn't start feeling better for six weeks. It's official: I am old.

So here I am... six weeks later... with all the same pain that I had on day one. It's actually worse today from hauling bags around all day. During the drive to my hotel tonight, a sudden realization hit me. I'm going to need to have a pain-free, ready-to-race shoulder in just a little more than six weeks from now!! There is no way I'll be able to trim sails and grind winches like this. I guess I may need to consider getting a cortisone shot. Don't they use like a railroad spike to give those shots?! Have you ever had one? How bad is it?! I'll do just about anything to ensure that I can race and sail this season, but I'd feel better about the situation if there was a place that offered 'sedation dentistry' and cortisone shots as a combo deal.

visited her today

It is so weird to sit inside a COLD boat. I went to check on Central Air this afternoon and found her to be in ship-shape... or just about, anyway. I stepped down into the chilly cabin and placed a couple Damp-Rid things in there. I can't believe what a disorganized mess I left in my cabin. Just for the heck of it, I opened the cooler and found that -- oops -- I hadn't cleaned or emptied it at the end of the season. It contained a gallon jug of partially frozen water, two Dasanis, and 3 beers. It smelled kind of funny in there too -- not 'funny ha-ha'... more like 'funny disgusting.' I lugged the whole mess home to clean and empty it.

The cockpit was dry, and I checked the bilge by lifting the lid from the battery compartment on the cabin floor. Once upon a time, I thought that as long as the visible areas in that compartment were dry, then the bilge was dry. Yeah... not true. So I got down on my hands and knees and reached down into and under the battery compartment. Every time I do that, I get nervous, like an alligator lives in my bilge and will start thrashing around and then bite my hand off. Well, nothing bit me, but I did end up with a wet hand. Darnit!! It wasn't a huge amount of water, but anything more than 'bone dry' worries me. I'll get a bilge pump and empty it before launch and then check it periodically throughout the season. I'm sure there is not a serious problem, but water is heavy and I want to go fast.

tooting my own blog-horn

My BFF The Tillerman's final group writing project of 2008 involves having each participant select his/her favorite 2008 post from his/her own blog. Although I'm fairly sure that every word that passes through my lips or from the clickity-clack of my fingertips is pure genius, it was quite easy for me to select one particular post as my favorite.

But first, some statistics:

# of posts in 2005: 6
# of posts in 2006: 19
# of posts in 2007: 30
# of posts in 2008: 33 (including this one)

This is a pretty pathetic number of posts, especially compared to some of my favorite fellow sailing bloggers ever. Seeking to better understand this data, in true execu-droid style I performed a complex analysis of the figures and arrived at the following conclusions:

1. My enjoyment of the sport increased dramatically when I upgraded from my 14-foot dinghy to my fabulous Capri 18 'yot.' There were many more stories to tell in 2007 - my first full season of sailing Central Air '2.'
2. Although my enjoyment of the sport -- and my skill level, as I finally graduated to the level of 'novice' -- increased even more in 2008, I was too busy having great adventures and making lovely memories (and storing more precious snapshots in my mind than even the flickr could contain), and that didn't leave much time to blog.

The post that best represents this season of adventure and lovely memories is 'Hooray for Team La Vita.' This post is simply the best because it provides a snapshot of this season that includes all the components of a perfect sail: great company, a stiff breeze, and a crew that just 'clicks.'

Viva Team La Vita!

Hooray for Team La Vita!

Wow - this Wednesday's 'beer can' race was just magical for Team LaVita, which is composed of Ralph, his son Scott, and Scott's neighbor, me. It was so breezy when we sailed out to the race course that Scott put a reef in the main. The weather settled a bit so that we were able to shake out the reef prior to the start. It was a nearly perfect night, weather-wise and team performance-wise.

For example, each time Scott attached or moved the whisker pole on a downwind leg, he actually snapped the shackle at the end of the pole onto the genoa clew without even touching the sail and usually on the first try!! He was like Robin Hood Daffy Duck or something -- minus the smack upside the beak at the end. "Ho, Ha-Ha, Dodge, Parry, SNAP!" Beautiful.

As for me, the genoa was (semi-consistently) well-trimmed during the entire race. My real superhero move was when we tacked the boat, and I released the genoa on the port side, trimmed it on the starboard side, and then trimmed the mainsail, adjusted the traveller, and tightened up the adjustable backstay -- all with minimal flailing! I'm sure that it was just a one-off, so I'm feeling more surprised than smug about the whole thing.

And Captain Ralph? He is always a rock star. He skippered La Vita to a 2nd place finish in our fleet for the first race of the summer series. I wonder what color flag we'll win for this series? I hope that it is my favorite color.

XX / XY Regatta '08

This is the time of year when I begin to beg and plead for a boy to join me for this annual regatta. You may recall that last year I accompanied my pitch for a patient, fun-loving, non-yelling-at-me boy with a marketing slogan of "chocolately sailing goodness." My intentions with that were completely pure, in a sort of "Drink More Ovaltine" type of way... but then some pre-verts (and y'all know who you are!) turned it into something suggestive and illicit and I am known to some of you to this very day as "the chocolate girl." (sigh)

So, for this year's regatta, I am going to try an altogether different approach. I will be accepting applications and interviewing prospective XY crew over the next week or so. All applicants (do I hear crickets chirping?) must be prepared to:

1. Sing a Duran Duran tune of your choice (bonus points if it's from The White Album), and
2. Bust out a respectable 'Cabbage Patch' victory dance, and
3. Provide an example of:

• 3a. a time when someone was annoying and you did not yell at them
• 3b. a time when someone did something stupid and you did not yell at them
• 3c. a time when someone talked too much and you did not yell at them.

I am an equal opportunity kind of gal, except that I am told that those with whom I've previously raced - ever - are not eligible to apply. (This fills me with great sadness, as I've been racing with some really wonderful and talented guys lately.)

Okay, so here we go! Let 'er rip with the applications, fellas! We can conduct your interview at the Dock Walk event this Saturday night, if you like.

improvement noted

At this week's Wednesday night race, I implemented my new sail trim strategies and my post-race performance review reflected some improvement. I was upgraded from "not that bad" to "pretty good!" I am so motivated and driven (and goal-oriented), and I'm making such notable progress, that I'm confident that I should be "nearly sufficient" by the end of this season!

Sail Like a Girl

At last night's ACSA general meeting, I met my new sailing hero. (Scootch over, Captain Bill Pinkney, there is room enough in my heart for two sailing heroes!) Our guest speaker after the meeting was Heidi Backus-Riddle, the 1985 Rolex Yachtswoman of the Year and an all-around kick-#ss sailor and speaker!

In the photo to the left, which I must admit to "borrowing" from the internet, Heidi (second from left) and her all-chick crew are posing after winning the 2007 Fall Bay Regatta on her Tartan 10 - "Nuts."

Heidi also served as the first lady Commodore of the Great Lakes' Inter-Lake Yachting Association.

Sailing is a family sport for Heidi, as her crew is made up primarily of her sisters and her daughter. What a privilege to race with family. (Note to Bro -- please come up and race in a weekend regatta with me!)

Heidi concluded her talk by providing us with two pages of tips for better racing -- really good stuff. Many of her suggestions involved the importance of maintaining focus and concentration, two areas where I've realized that I come up painfully short. Hopefully by the end of this sailing season I'll be able to make it through a 1-2 hour race without making random, inane comments or pausing to freshen up my lip gloss.... and will win some blue flags as a result.

Someday, when she's not so busy winning regattas and such, I hope that Heidi will write a book about her experiences. If Heidi has a fan club, and she should, I'd like to apply be President.