Tag: frostbiting

You Never Forget Your Sail Number!

If you race a boat often enough, that number never fades away even if you forget how to sail a boat well.

Pro athletes are often synonymous with their jersey numbers.  Most big fans of major league players probably know their faves’ numbers.  Those numbers are often retired with the players themselves. 

In that pic: a typical tight start in a Laser race. Every sailor there knows their number cold. These guys are sailing the standard, full-size rig: 76 square feet of sail. The author used to sail this size rig when he was around 120 pounds soaking wet. Got away with it as it was district level racing in a light-wind region. A better body weight would be 160-170 pounds; heavier isn’t usually a problem. There’s also the Radial rig, with a smaller bottom mast section and somewhat smaller sail, with a radial cut rather than parallel panels. Screen-grab from a race video on YouTube posted by RYA (Royal Yachting Association) during interview with a British team sailor. Didn’t see video credit.

Not the same for sailing; even though there’s a little bit of team racing out there, and a few true rock-star sailors, it’s the boat – not the sailor – that is identified on the course.  For most racing, it’s the sail number.  It can be random, or it can be the number of the boat that came out of the mold (hull #1 would say just “1” on the sail, or maybe “001”).   It’s used to identify boats for scoring or penalty purposes.

I’ll never forget my sail numbers.  I raced two boats actively enough for enough time that I have them. Sadly, I can’t find photos of my father or in the boats detailed below, but they might be hiding in one last storage area. Anywho…

#228: my Dyer Dhow

In that pic: no, not me in my own boat. Photo from back in the day from Dyer’s site. But, Imagine a tween or teen in her/his first boat. Just boat, sail, and excited young sailor. That’s the idea. Back when I frostbit, the sailors spanned all ages from under 17 to well over 70.

My first dinghy (and the first time I ever sailed one) was my Dyer.  Funny story about how I got it: 

Sometimes Dad had strange ideas about what made for a good birthday gift.  That might have been due to forgetting my birthday – never knew for sure.  One year, he said that he was giving me one of the sailing school boats.  (He owned and operated a major sailing school and that was my introduction to the industry.)  Great!  I was too young to realize what it did and did not mean.

Years later, I got interested in racing, and then read an article in Yacht Racing & Cruising (now just Sailing World).  It was in their how-to series, “From the Experts.”  Here, champions in their respective boat classes dished on how to deliver.  They shared their secrets on how to get the best performance out of the boat.  I forget the author’s name.  This got me interested in frostbiting, or racing boats in the winter months here in the northeast.  

I asked my folks if they’d get me a Dyer so I could do this. No.

I somehow remembered about my sailboat gift: hadn’t thought of it for years.  I leveraged it.  My boat, but..?  How many classes did your school teach on it? How much rental income was there from it?  I did some gymnastic arithmetic that was at least roughly based on reality.  I can up with a bill: you gave me this boat, then used it for profit.  Here’s what you owe me.

He knew he’d been had.  Mom didn’t intervene, which meant she agreed with me.  Next week, he bought me a new Dyer Dhow.   I remember going to Sobstad Sailmakers in Mamaroneck (a solid regional sailmaker at the time, perhaps national, with good racing pedigree). They had the deal to make all the sails for Mamaroneck Frostbiting Association’s Dyer Dhow fleet.  Truly one-design; all sails were identical.  You could opt for an aluminum mast instead of the standard wood one.  You could “Harkenize” your boat: use all Harken turning blocks instead of whatever shit Dyer installed.  That, and your choice of rope material for the mainsheet and outhaul, maybe halyard, and hiking stick.  None of that made any significant difference.  You had to sail the boat better than your competitors.

In that pic: tight times – mini match race during a fleet race, Mamaroneck Frostbite. I had a bow dodger (spray canvas) on my boat as did, and do, most sailors. Never opted for the metal mast; I like how the wood bends more. Must have been windy/gusty that day – they’re using the smaller “storm sail.” The race committee makes the call for the day; it’s not optional.

Anyway, I was #228, and I named the boat Dyer Straits.  (I was a Dire-hard Mark Knopfler fan.)  I remembered the number due to the sheer number of times I looked at it and heard it through a bull horn on the race courses.  (“228, you’re over early.”  “228, we have your finish.” (DFL, or dead fucking last…)  “228, nice race!” (I did win some).

Dad was not about to be undone.  He drove me to the frostbiting.  Eventually he borrowed my boat from time to time.  He might have sailed a race or two by swapping out with me at the committee boat on some days.   But, of course, he eventually got his own.  

#501: Apocalypse Dhow!

He probably wore Levis’ 501 jeans as well.  Big on denim and a Willie Nelson looking bandana.

A year or three later, I wound up trying a Laser in the Virgin Islands. They had them for rent at Bitter End Yacht Club in Virgin Gorda. I’d never sailed one. But, I knew how to. Why? Another “From the Experts” article: Laser, by Olympic Finn contender and one of the top Laser sailors at the time, Carl Buchan (whose Dad, Billl, was a champion in the Star keelboat class). I knew how to throw the boat around with my body by torquing at the hips with torso as lever. I knew how to hike out, and get the boat up on a plane quickly by handling the sheet properly to pump the sail. I knew were the daggerboard should be. I capsized once… but flipped the boat back up easily as I’d read about it.

I sailed the boat back to the beach up on a plane, skimmed way up past the shoreline, pulling up the dagger board just before I grounded. Hopped off and gave it back to dad.

Dad secretly bought a new one for me soon afterward.  But, mom didn’t think I deserved it, and told him to not give it to me.  He couldn’t hide the boat, nor could he satisfactorily explain why I couldn’t use it.  (I didn’t know at first about mom’s interference.)  So, eventually, he let me try it.   Then, more often.  Somehow he sort of stopped using it so I just kept doing it, and boom – it was my boat.

#101670, no name.  

Yup: at the time, they’d make over 100,000 Lasers.  That was in the early 1980’s; now that the boat has been active in the Olympics for a long time, I shudder to think what the hull count has gotten up to.  But, I’ll always remember 101670.

 My boat was stolen 5 or 6 years later.  That was that.  I filed a police report, and still almost remember the name of the female officer who took the complaint as I had an instant crush on her (Jimenez or Rodriguez; probably former as I new a Rodriguez or two from HS & college so might have them crossed up).  But the sail number remains!  

I started sailing and racing Lasers again two years ago at Sebago Canoe Club in Canarsie (sailing dinghies abound in addition to paddle craft).  I added Sunfish and a Vanguard 15 (which is like a big Laser with a jib.)  Maybe I’ll take a club sail with minimal or no numbers on it and resurrect mine.  I’ll be easy to ID when called over early or rounding a mark the wrong way.  

Old habits die hard…

In that pic: I’ve posted it before, and will prolly post again. Me helming a Vanguard 15 with a client/friend crewing. It was Paolo’s first time ever in a sailing dinghy. He went from scared shitless to shit-eatin grinnin! Behind is Jon, also a client/friend, in a Sunfish. Sebago Cup (distance race in Jamaica Bay), September ‘23. Chris Bickford, photo.

LINKS..

DYER DHOW

MAMARONECK FROSTBITE

LASER! “There is no substitute.” And, “There’s nothing you can’t do on a Laser.”

SEBAGO CANOE CLUB

Transition time again

Yes, we’re still sailing… but they’re blowing snow on the mountains while those who’ve learned how to sail this season wonder when to switch gears!

The Mary’s of Miramar, as we affectionately call them, taking their final lesson with us down at Miramar Yacht Club in Sheepshead Bay – our new branch. They’re aboard an Ensign, and the boat in the background is also an Ensign. October 6, 2022!

Soon we’ll be switching gears – Live 105 Coastal Navigation courses (both in person and on Zoom), and our Virgin Islands (BVI) trips for sailing vacay courses. And, snowsports!

Skiing at Mt. Zion, Michigan, October ’22! This is a still grab from a clip reposted on Snowbrain’s Instagram. Click it to play!

Each fall and spring, people who sail and also ski or ride sometimes have a choice to make: slide through water, or slide on snow. That time is just about here in the northeast. Killington began making snow awhile ago, and while not open yet, it’s probably just around the corner. They often start with a few trails in late October, and host a world cup women’s ski comp each Thanksgiving weekend.

And, there was a dump in the midwest already! Michigan got it, and they’re already doing it. Much more is coming out west shortly – as in a few days.

Precipitation modeling chart/map, as posted by Snowbrains on their Instagram. Winter is coming. Fast!

How long does sailing go on in the Northeast? As long as you like, really. Ever hear of ‘frostbiting?’ It’s racing during the winter, usually on small boats and dinghies. I started doing it in high school and stopped during college. I decided it was insane. It’s much better now with better outerwear options, and also because self-rescuing boats are more commonly used than before. I used to race Dyer Dhows, which are still popular in parts of the Northeast including Western Long Island Sound.

The Dyer is basically a bathtub with a sail and fills up with water if you flip it. Positive foam flotation prevents sinking, but a swamped sailor needs rescuing by one of the fleet’s chase boats before considering getting back out. A Laser, on the other hand, can be flipped right back up and back into action with minimal fuss. If one is fast, and stays on the windward rail, they might not even get wet. But, it’s a boat that throws up spray so in any wind, one gets wet just from that. Dry suits are in order here.

“Laser: there is no substitute.” – Captain Stephen Glenn Card, former Laser racer and lifelong enthusiast. No, that’s not him sailing. It’s a recent regatta snap posted on ILCA Sailing’s Instagram. (International Laser Class Association)

How about bigger boats? Keelboats don’t easily capsize, and they’re drier. Many people extend their seasons well into the fall. At Miramar Yacht Club, which hosts a branch for our school in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, some members keep their boats in all winter and sail from time to time. The Club is open all year, despite launches being hauled out for the winter. The Bay is super calm, so it’s reasonably safe to just row out to one’s boat if weather permits with a life jacket on and others around knowing what you’re up to.

Around 12 years ago, I was living in Greenwich CT. I was in a super kewl and fun/funky apartment complex right on the water, at the end of a peninsula and street, next door to Indian Harbor Yacht Club. Fancy club, and expensive, but a sailors club. The main thing they needed to know before one joined is that you actually were into sailing and active at it. They didn’t care if you had a lowly J/24, as long as you sailed it. They had a frostbiting program in the winter, on Dyer Dhows. And, it was open to non-members. I was very close to just joining that program, as it was happening almost in front of my living room window.

A Dyer Hair Day? I do note the helmet on the sailor to the left… And while two of the Dyer Dhows here have no names, punny plays on Dyer and winter weather are the norm. Photo from Mamaroneck Frostbite Association’s site.

And then, I took a snowboarding lesson. I was a newbie; never did it before. I hadn’t skied since I was a wee boy either, and skiing and snowboarding are very different skills with almost no overlap, so no muscle memory, etc, to dial up. “That’s that with that,” I said. I’d never frostbite again. I wouldn’t have time. Snowboarding is my winter jam. But transitional fall sailing? One of my favorite ways to play!

Pro tips for fall sailing:

Dress for fall, but be prepared for summer – or vice versa. You can still easily get sunburned, especially with clearer atmospheric conditions when it’s from the northwest. Bring both a warm hat and a sun hat. And, sunscreen for exposed spots.

Don’t dehydrate. Wind and sun do that, even when it’s cooler. Bring water.

Bring a hot beverage in a thermos or some soup in case you get chilly and need a warm-up.

Do you ski or ride? You can bring those clothes, minus helmet/boots, and you’re in good shape!

If you’re skippering the boat, beware the setting sun. It sneaks up on us early now; we’re conditioned to sail into a sunset that is much later in the summer. Don’t get caught with dimming light and dropping temps when you have a ways to go – especially if the wind picked up from the afternoon sun and hasn’t died down yet.

My biz card for the side hustle awhile ago: teaching snowboarding part time while also running a sailing school and its winter nav classes and Caribbean sailing vacations. Whew! Busy boy. I don’t teach for a mountain any longer, but occasionally offer a private lesson. (Certification lapsed for non-renewal just for full disclosure. Easy to renew if needed: one continuing ed clinic and pay a season’s back dues!)

As well as being a certified sailing instructor with ASA since 1983, when they started, I was a Level I snowboarding instructor with AASI/PSIA for few seasons much more recently. I got certified almost exactly 2 years from when I first got on a snowboard. Not because I was prodigy, but because I had a teaching background and had stubbornly applied myself on a board to get as competent as possible as early as I could. I didn’t even have a goal of teaching – it didn’t enter my mind until I was getting ready for my second full season of snowboarding, and I saw some instructor recruitment info on mountain resort web sites. “You don’t have to be the best skier or rider on the mountain to teach. You have to be good with people, enthusiastic, etc, etc.”

An idea was born. I pursued it. I was hired to teach at Okemo in Ludlow, Vermont, to my great surprise (more on that story in another issue of the Blog Rant.) And, I brought back a lot of instructional cross training and teaching methodology to the Sailing Center. More on that later, too.

Our Director & Dockmaster, Captain Card, taking a break from navigating Memorial Chutes or Here Be Dragons (some navigating, eh?). They’re adjacent, anyway, and just like on the water, there are not road signs in gate-accessed sidecountry in the mountains. Solitude Mountain Resort, Utah, February ’22.

I occasionally have free time to give snowboarding lessons, and I always enjoy it. If you’re interested, or know someone who is, shoot me a message by reply to this or from the contact page on our site (in the main menu of every page and post).

Think wind – and snow!