Frostbiting v. Florida (& Other Conundrums)

Fly down to the beach? Fly out to the Rockies? Drive up to them thar Catskills? Or, ponder how to sail on a milder day right here in Brooklyn? Plenty of choices.

I wanted to drive up to Belleayre Mountain in the Catskills yesterday. They were forecast to get 4-6 inches of pow overnight with another few possible during the day. I even got the ticket on line and refilled my Ski3 card for direct-to-lift access. But, it wasn’t to be.

IN THAT PIC: screenshot of the summary forecast for Belleayre Mountain in my OpenSnow app, before expanding that below. OpenSnow is a top-tier app for mountain weather predictions. It’s gotten me some epic (Ikonic?) storm chases. Free trial; $30/year thereafter and worth soooo much more.

Yes, they got the goods: 7 inches as of the morning check! But, I didn’t sleep well enough and despite actually getting up at 5:15, went back to bed within 20′ and said F it. Maybe the next day. (Little to no fresh pow would be left, but packed powder all over and no stampede to get to it.)

IN THAT PIC: forecast details expanding on the pic above. This makes it easy to see the timing of things, and the consistency and trend, which determine not just when, but IF you go. This was two days out. Final forecast was for 4-6 overnight and another 1-3 during the day. Actual snowfall as of early Monday morning when they first measured it? 7 inches.

Plus, I was stressed about getting ready to fly down to Florida to visit my partner’s family. Yes; looking forward to it, despite not being much of an FL fan. But, I’d play tennis to help get in shape for snowboarding, maybe cast my fly rod from the beach for practice and, you know… never know what’s right there within casting distance in salt water, where anything can swim anywhere it wants to.

I love the fam, so there’s that. And, I enjoy flying for some reason. But, I have to knock stuff out and get caught up before I go for 5 days and then wind up behind again. So, no. Didn’t take the whole day today to shred groomers.

Usually, when I fly down to the Virgin Islands (BVI) to run Sailing Center trips, it dumps up here upon my departure. Then, when I return, it NUKES and sometimes delays my flight getting back. I miss it and figure I’ve got it coming to me another time. This time around, I missed some storm chasing opportunities in a variety of places not because I’d left, but because I wouldn’t have enough time before my flight south. So it goes…

For this trip, it’s looking very quiet snow wise for the time I’m away plus some more for good measure. Maybe that means what comes later will be bigger and badder. But, if not, what about local sailing?

IN THAT PIC: all quiet on the inlet. View from Sheepshead Bay out into Rockaway Inlet, with the bridge separating that from Jamaica Bay in the background. Saturday morning, December 9. Those are cormorants or loons on top of the mooring ball.

It’s been relatively mild here in NYC. On Saturday, I was dressed in a fleece top and sun hat while doing crankcase and lower unit oil changes on our Carolina Skiff and checking the Tartan Ten on its mooring. By around 2pm, it was just about T-shirt weather for about an hour. Miramar YC was having a whiskey tasting, and allegedly also a pipe pairing. I had to pass as I was driving back to MannyHanny.

Saturday was a great temperature for sailing… but not really enough wind. Dead on the Hudson and NY Harbor; light down in Sheepshead Bay and Rockaway Inlet. There’s almost always more wind there, even when it’s light all around. Four to five more knots and I would have postponed some of the chores and dragged some people out for a sail. But, there will be other opportunities. Always are. (Want in on that? Hit us up to be e-blasted when we see a weather window!)

IN THAT PIC: Some of the swans at the beach that day. There are quite a few more outside the edges of the shot. Two of them were flapping away in tandem – synchronized swatting or something. Did you know they sail? They’ll travel downwind by flaring their wings to provide surface area. Feet steer.

I’m a life member at Hunter Mountain in the Catskills, which is the most well-known of them. My folks bought a house on the Mountain when I was wee. Either it came with life memberships, or there was a promotion so good my Dad was glad to buy for the whole family .Mom? I asked her later in life if shed’ ever tried skiing. “I did it once. That was enough.” Damn…

Dad was really into it, and I went to ski-school and stuff until they sold the house. Then, we maybe did one more trip in Vermont before they pulled the plug and that was it for snowsports for me and I wasn’t quite 10. It wasn’t until after I’d taken up snowboarding 14 years ago that I discovered there were other hills to ski/ride on in the Catskills. I heard of Windham first. A client from the school turned me onto Belleayre during the pandemic. He’d bought season passes for his family as a way to get out and do stuff in fresh air without being too crowded, and they were cheap. The mountain was almost empty and they had semi-private skiing. And, they liked the hill.

I’ve been there twice now; wanted to go more, but I rarely go to the Catskills now as it’s usually better for me to drive the extra 2 hours and be in Vermont. But, I prefer Belleayre to Hunter and Windham. Hunter, especially, has a lot of potential compared to Belleayre. It’s larger, has longer runs, has more tough terrain, and has its truly beginner and expert areas separated from the main mountain. Plus, they expanded the resort into a new area and added an extra high-speed chair in that area for some of the most efficient lap-making one could conceive of.

Yes, but…

Hunter isn’t being run the way it used to be. It’s been sold several times, and now everything kicks up to Vail Resorts. They seem to have bought it for market share in the Epic/Ikon struggle over the skiing Universe. They don’t run as many chairs as often, don’t make as much snow, and don’t open up the new North area or existing West areas to as much capacity as needed. Plus, their new glade in the North area seems to never be open – which it needed badly, as there were essentially none before this. They don’t seem to care.

Belleayre?

IN THAT PIC: the Belleayre trail map. It’s very left & right, like Brighton in Utah. That’s where the comparison begins and ends, but for a small northeast hill, it fights above its weight class with a nice balance of terrain and legit glades. Plus, they seem to put some effort into their terrain park.

It’s state owned/operated like Gore and Whiteface, and there’s some connectivity in pass and ticket sales, including the state’s Ski3 discount card. My take, in no particular order:

  • It’s cheaper. A full price walk-up-to-window ticket with no discounts is $104, and if you purchase as late as the evening before, it’s less. Buy a few days earlier, and it’s much less than that. Plus, they have a frequent skier discount card that’s worth considering if you’re not sure a season pas is worth it.
  • It’s run well! They have their act together and act like they care. (Same for Gore and Whiteface, in my opinion, after one visit to each on my two shots up north to get my COVID shots during the pandemic up in Plattsburgh.)
  • Belleayre seemed to get more trails open earlier than Hunter and Windham this season, and they blow a lot of snow. Plus, they get comparable real snow. (This time, they got significantly more.)
  • They have GLADES! Real ones. If you like trees, you’ll love Dreamcatcher and some others. I went up twice; neither time had there been a dump before I went. Both times, Dreamcatcher was open. And, it had good snow and some of it deep! (It’s one of their double diamonds and it’s the largest of their glades.)
  • Don’t like glades? No problem. They have plenty of groomers for all ability levels. If you’re a true expert, and especially if you’re an extreme terrain skier or rider, Belleayre might leave you feeling flat. But if you’re most things less than that, you should be able to enjoy Belleayre.
  • They have a nice mid-mountain lodge with a great bar and nice views from it. Doesn’t hurt that they have decent coffee.
  • They have a gondola! That means when it’s running, you can usually skip it to cut down on lift lines. Plus, they have one high-speed quad that runs in another area and lets you lap a large portion of the mountain quickly.
  • There’s less hill work on the local roads driving to and from the hill. That’s important in crappy weather.

Caveat: No lodging right on site, however, unlike Hunter and Windham – so, if you’re going to hit it during a real dump or just after, and you have to drive a ways, it might not be the call.

And, back to sailing! What if you want to just sail here in the winter?

Check out “frostbiting.” It’s short course racing in the winter, and there are a number of ways to play. Most of it’s on dinghies: they can flip over and you’re likely to get wet at some point even if you don’t flip. If you’re up for the challenge of dinghy sailing in the winter, game on. Dry-suit time. Unless, of course, you’re racing Dyer Dhows at Mamaroneck Frostbite, where it’s hard to get spray on you and also harder to flip over. But, if you do, you’re getting very wet. So, a dry suit isn’t a bad idea here either.

IN THAT PIC: Dyer Dhows rigged up and ready to..? Not sure if they’re about to drop in or if some cold sailors ran in to warm up. I remember clearing snow off the boats before rigging and splashing back in the day. Pic from Mamaroneck Frostbite Association’s site.

Dyers are NOT self rescuing. Back in the day, the chase boat would come rescue you and drop you off at the committee boat. That was a houseboat with a wood-burning pot-belly oven for heat. Wring out the wet clothes, warm up, and go back out. After bailing out your swamped Dyer, of course. Never again for me. I’d rather get the exhilaration of a fast dinghy, and have a good chance of a “dry capsize” where one jumps up on the rail and never actually gets wet. Most dinghies people race are self bailing, meaning water that gets in goes back out on its own. That includes the Sunfish, which is arguably an inefficient design, but it works – and it’s fun and fairly forgiving. That said, it’s harder to right one when it does flip, but at least it’s self bailing/rescuing. At that point, you might want to brace yourself thusly…

IN THAT PIC: fire (in background) and firewater in front. Whiskey tasting at the Miramar Yacht Club (home port to New York Sailing Center).

Why don’t we “frostbite” on the keelboats from the school? Well, we will! We’re going to go out from time to time this winter when weather allows. But, it has to not be actual frostbiting weather. That means seasonally mild temps and winds. So, it will be fewer and farther between than a typical frostbite racing program, and no racing. Just one, maybe two boats out with a few people having a good time. Fill a flask with the firewater of your choice; just don’t drive afterward.

How to get in on that? Hit us up to be included in an e-blast about it.

Want to do true frostbiting, with the racing and the cold & wind sometimes, and the potential for getting wet? Here are a few places to consider…

Mamaroneck Frostbite: a single-purpose seasonal organization that goes way back. I used to do this from 1979-mid 1980’s. They race Dyer Dhows as do some other clubs in the region. Not surprisingly, they’re in Mamaroneck, NY.

Cedar Point Yacht Club: a year round racing club in Westport CT that encourages newbies as well as seasoned vets. They have a frostbiting program. Details not on their site (at least nowhere I looked), so go to their site to contact them. They race Lasers and RS Aeros.

Centerpoint YC Frostbiting: CPYC is a year-round membership club with a frostbiting program in the ‘off’ season. They’re on Long Island’s North Shore. They race several classes of dinghies: Lasers, Penguins, and JY 15 sloops.

Weather and whether… that’s the continuing conundrum. Just go out and do something.

Like Clockwork!

Actual clockwork – the works that solved the problem of how to sail across an ocean safely by keeping proper time for navigation. And, these clocks from the 1700’s are still ticking!

IN THAT CLIP: Harrison’s four timepieces that revolutionized navigation and long distance sea travel.

I visited the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, England this month. Been on my list since I first read “Longitude” by Dava Sobel, about the English crafstman and inventor John Harrison. I’ve written about it before, but now I’ve seen it.

“You have to see it to understand. Now I’ve seen it.”

The Dragon Queen, Game of Thrones

(I also saw the dragon motifs in Wales, and got some great drag swag, but that’s another story from the same trip.)

Harrison’s clocks revolutionized sea travel and have withstood the test of time. It took him most of his adult lifetime, partially because he was a self-sabotaging perfectionist, but he solved the problem of his time: how to determine longitude at sea. His timepieces were the first chronometers, or very accurate time pieces that would work for extended sea voyages without adjustment or maintenance. And, he won the incentive prize offered by Parliament: 20,000 pounds. That translates into roughly $7 million when adjusted to today’s value.

IN THAT PIC: His first chronometer clock, H1. Kept good time near-coastal in Europe.

Why was this a problem to begin with?

  • To determine longitudinal position at sea (east/west), one needed to know the time at the home port of departure (now Greenwich, England, or GMT for all) and compare it to the local apparent noon (sun at its zenith).
  • To do that, one needed an accurate time piece.
  • They existed on land, but none of the day could keep time at sea due to the motion of the ocean, as well as changes in humidity and barometric pressure.
  • Until the problem was solved, vessels were constantly at risk of delayed or premature arrivals, getting lost, or worse, running aground. That last eventuality was the straw that broke the stiff upper lip of the land: a small armada was lost off the coat of England due to poor position reckoning.
IN THAT PIC: H2. Tried to sole some problems; he found another. NEXT!..

The detailed history is best left to Dava Sobel, but suffice it to say it that this wasn’t an easy affair. Here’s a super-short summary.

In 1714, Parliament created the Board of Longitude and offered the prize.

In the 1720’s, Harrison created his first clock. It was huge, unwieldy, and elegant a/f – so much so that a fancy-lad clockmaker in England makes stunning replicas.

It worked well enough on a proper sea trial, and it was duly recognized by the Board, but there was room for improvement. A small sum was paid with the promise that another improved clock would be built.

IN THAT PIC: H3 Not good enough. The can of worms, they squirms…

It took three more iterations, decades of time, and some political jockeying to get it done…. but the fourth time was the charm. From a large machine, to a large pocket watch, Harrison created a consistently reliable chronometer and safe navigation was possible. Sadly, despite this accomplishment and also winning the king’s ransom of a prize, he died a bitter and broken man.

IN THAT PIC: H4. DONE. Kept accurate time from England to the Caribbean.

But, I was a happy fan at the Royal Observatory. I highly recommend anyone traveling to London take a side trip to Greenwich, which also has the Maritime Museum and the Cutty Sark. Easy on tube + rail. Harrison’s clocks might be the best part about the Observatory but there’s plenty more, including the touristy thing: standing on the Prime Meridian!

Again: read Longitude by Dava Sobel. Get the illustrated version. Fascinating and revealing. There’s also a Nova episode about it, and despite being a little campy with reenactments, it’s great. Sobel is interviewed in it.

We teach the basics of latitude and longitude work in our Coastal Navigation course, Start Sailing (ASA 105), including how to use lat/lon coordinates from a GPS to plot position on a paper chart. Old school blended with new.

It’s Always Sunny in Brighton Beach!

Until it isn’t… or is that Brighton, Utah? The weather has been wild all over, but we’re starting to teach people how to sail in Brooklyn and ignoring the powder out yonder.

We started on April 4, did a few lessons, resume this week with a private on Wednesday, and take a break for our Virgin Islands Sailing Vacay (BVI). After that, our first full Start Sailing course of the season kicks off on May 6.

IN THAT PIC: sunny day for sailing some Sunnies! Sunfish class dinghies racing on Jamaica Bay, near New York Sailing Center’s home base on the other side of the Marine Parkway Bridge. Posted on behalf of the Sebago Canoe Club on the Facebook group Sailors of New York.

The little guys above are Sunnies! That’s a nickname for Sunfish, one of the world’s most well-know sailboat classes. There are a ridiculous number of them worldwide accumulating since they were born in… 1947!!! I most certainly did NOT know they went back that far. By the time the Sunfish turned 50, there were over 300,000 of them. They’re a competitive racing class with well attended world championships. I’ve sailed them once or twice, along with the similar Sailfish.

That shot was posted to promote the Sebago Canoe Club‘s spring regatta, which involves Sunnies and Lasers (which I’ve raced extensively). Sebago is in Jamaica Bay, a short ride away from our Sheepshead Bay location at Miramar Yacht Club. Like Miramar, Sebago is a cooperative and all members give service to the club to help run it and keep costs down.

So, the Sunnies will be out in force. How about us?

IN THAT PIC: seagull preparing to take off as we sail near Brighton Beach, Brooklyn. The fog in the background appeared to emanate from the Coney Island Amusement Park and extend all the way out over the Atlantic (out of the frame to the left).

We’ve been sailing off Brighton Beach. That’s next to Manhattan Beach. But… it’s not in Manhattan. We don’t do Manhattan for sailing. Brighton is on Coney Island, facing south toward the Atlantic, and almost there. Directly across Rockaway Inlet is Breezy Point. If Montauk is “The End,” as the bumper stickers say, Breezy is the beginning. It’s the very start of continental Long Island, and where New York Bay meets the Atlantic.

Brighton was a bit cloudy and more than a bit foggy the last time we were out. It happens. There was enough wind to sail after being almost becalmed briefly. That’s super rare here. Remember… Breezy. The area has its own micro climate, with fair weather far more often than foul. Last season, we did five full learn to sail schedules there, spread out over the whole summer and early fall. We also did numerous private lessons. How many times did we cancel due to thunderstorms? Zero. Not so with our old digs at City Island. “It’s (almost) always sunny at Breezy and Brighton.”

How about Brighton, Utah? Still snowing!!! They just got some more, and have little more on the way. As of this writing, they’re still 100% open. Every. Single. Trail. And, all the glades. 65 big runs, at the little big mountain in Big Cottonwood Canyon.

IN THAT PIC: yesterday, April 23, at Brighton Resort, Utah. Fully open, and still snowing. They, like all their neighbors in the Wasatch Range and a number of other resorts out west, broke their all-time recorded snowfall records. Brighton? Approaching 900 inches this season! This is a screenshot from their Insta.

Who cares? Anyone interested in both sailing and snowsports; anyone concerned about climate change. The Wild Winter that Was out West broke many records. We might not be glad that it did. Add in the drought we had on the East Coast this winter, and the spring tornados that have wrought havoc on the southeast, and who knows what to expect going forward.

Down around Breezy and Sheepshead Bay, for at least the foreseeable future, we can count on afternoon sea breezes most days, with virtually no risk of thunderstorms. It is known. We’ll take it, and take our chances with what happens when the next winter comes.

VIDEO CLIP:

IN THAT CLIP: my new riding buddy Jack spraying me on his way down a double- diamond bowl with a few trees mixed in. Powder day, Brighton Resort, early March. Click pic to play video on Insta!

In Full Spring

Our season for teaching people how to sail a boat, or get better at it, is underway.

Actually, it began on April 4, one of our earlier outings! We started off conservatively with a private lesson for an experienced student who has a new boat arriving soon. He’s been a regular private lesson client for awhile, and has come down to our new location in Sheepshead Bay a few times now despite plans to keep his boat on the Sound.

Due to the vagaries of spring weather, as exacerbated by global warming and climate change, we stopped our long standing tradition of kicking off learn to sail courses in mid April. Now, it’s early May, with an occasional advanced course starting earlier as well as private lessons.

CLICK TO PLAY! Insta clip from our first lesson of the season.

Next up after that lesson: I brought our Carolina Skiff down from City Island. I ran it down the East River, which is not necessarily for the faint of heart, and then NY Harbor (even less so) before getting through the Verrazzano Narrows and on to Rockaway Inlet and Sheepshead Bay. I knew I needed to not only time the current properly, but also the weather. Our skiff is very open, so spray can be an issue. It’s also more flat bottomed than deep-vee’d, so it has serious limits to how much of a pounding it can take in chop. That said, it’s super stable and can handle rolling/yawing extremely well.

I settled on a Sunday with a forecast for very light north winds, switching to light from the southwest late in the day. If all went well, I’d have a gentle wind at my back on the way down and no worse than a gentle one from on one side toward the end of the trip. The slack current at Hell Gate was predicted for exactly noon, and I love the ‘high noon’ thing. I assumed a 10-knot average speed, and based on the distance, figured it would take 2.5 hours non stop. Of course, I’d stop for various reasons a number of times, including potentially for a fuel top-off, so guesstimated 4 hours dock to dock.

CLICK TO PLAY! Insta clip of my run down to Sheepshead Bay from City Island, and then an orientation sail with new instructors the next day.

It was a milk run. Sunny most of the way to take the edge off the chill; flat calm due to light winds. There were occasional wakes, but I barely reacted to most of them and none were dramatic. I almost skipped the fuel stop, but heeded the advice of one our instructors who’s and ASA Instructor Evaluator, and super knowledgeable and experienced in that area. “You’re right there – how long a detour is it? 30 minutes? Just do it.” He was speaking from both experience and common sense. Most very experienced boaters have, at some point, had a fuel fiasco.

It was around 30 minutes. I also did numerous very short stops for grabbing a bite to eat, adding clothes, doing something on the phone, or taking pics. Total time dock to dock? 3:08. So, my 2.5 was damn close to exactly right. Score one up for the great navigator! Turns out… I didn’t need the extra fuel, but better to have to add stabilizer to that than wonder if a tow boat service could do a fuel drop half way between Hell Gate and Schitts Creek.

Next? A quick sail with two instructor candidates. Chilly and wet – but fun! See a sample in the clip above.

We did another private lesson for a City Islander soon afterward. She booked weeks in advance and didn’t realize we had moved to Sheepshead Bay! But, she decided to make the trek anyway. Her sister and she had taken lessons together previously, and wanted a better progression at a pace that suited them. They tried, we supplied, and they had nearly perfect conditions that helped that happen. They’ll be back.

IN THAT CLIP: sisters sailing together, per the paragraph above.

We also got out two students who had different backgrounds, but were both in need of a similar lesson. I grouped them and also brought along a new instructor we’re ‘onboarding’ for his second orientation session. We got becalmed just as we entered the Inlet, but then the wind picked up enough to fight the current. Soon, we didn’t need to consider the current.

Full courses begin on May 6, and our first Sailing Vacay Course of the year ends the day before down in the Virgin Islands (BVI). In the meantime, we’ll continue with privates as the weather allows. Spring weather up here is too volatile to plan on multi-day beginner courses for people with busy schedules. Some schools do it anyway and graduate people who haven’t learned to sail. We’ve paid attention to the weather trends and decided to start a little later, so students who Start SailingSM with us can get it done the first time.

IN THAT PIC: fog flowing from Coney Island on the right out over Rockaway inlet, and out past Breezy Point to the Atlantic (out of frame to the left). Bird about to take off for some drama. Foggy but beautiful sail on Sunday, April 16.

What’s in a Name?

Boat names are often painful, but sometimes inspired. When our students learn how to sail or cruise a boat, they’re often torn between smiling and grimacing at what they see out there.

Best. Name. Ever. Pearson 10M we’ve had at our City Island Branch for years.

(Ed. note: be sure to at least view, if not read, to the end… but for the best experience, do it all in order.) So… what’s up with those boat names? Most people who’ve owned a boat have either named it or at least considered re-naming it (despite the superstition involved). If you’ve never owned a boat, you’ve still probably given at least casual though to naming one.

BoatUS compiles an annual list of the most common boat names. That lets one either choose something they theoretically can’t go wrong with, or avoid something overdone to death. Here’s the top 10 for 2022:

  1. Andiamo
  2. Osprey
  3. Serenity
  4. Encore
  5. Zephyr
  6. Second Wind
  7. Adventure
  8. Knot on Call
  9. Shenanigans
  10. Grace

I’ll note that Andiamo was also number 1 for 2021, and has made the top-ten list in half of the last dozen years. Of course, we know an Andiamo or three. One of them is an S2 8.6 that still lives at City Island and used to summer and winter with us when we had a small marina. Zephyr? We had one in the fleet, albeit briefly.

Graduates of our school, and Sailing Club members, finally got their own boat and kept it with us for one season in exchange for limited use by the school. Yup; that’s a thing we do in case you’re interested. Their circumstances changed, and so did the home for the boat. So it Goes, anyone? Also up there in popularity, but missing this year’s list? Aquaholic.

You might have to look closer, but they’re all smiling about something… Second Wind, a Pearson 26 we’ve had at the City Island branch for awhile.

Best and worst names at the Sailing Center itself? Kilroy Was Here, complete with the face doodle as shown in the top pic, and, shown here, Second Wind (ouchie FAUCI!). We chose Kilroy and tolerated the Second without bothering to change it. At least the graphic was well done, and most students seeing it hadn’t seen countless others before. Not yet, anyway. One of our graduates got his first boat during the pandemic. Catalina 32. Very nice. “Second Wind.”

Decades ago, I started frostbite dinghy racing on a Dyer Dhow out of MFA (Mamaroneck Frostbiting Association). Temperature puns were common. My dad and I came up with what I thought were the two best Dyer names ever… Dyer Straits (me, sail #228), and Apocalypse Dhow (Dad, sail #501). Yup; boats have been gone forever but I still remember the sail numbers. “228; we have your finish.” That means you lost a long time ago; get your ass back to the line for the next start ASAP. “501; over early as usual!” Dad was overly partial to dip starts, but he certainly had the courage of his convictions, as they say.

But, this post wasn’t inspired by what we own or chose. It was about what we see out on the water, or in boatyards and marinas. So, we’ll occasionally post a good pic here in the Rants, as well as on Instagram and maybe FB. To kick things off, we’ll do one sailboat name of the punny variety, and a powerboat name of the hobo-ghetto, oh-no-you-did NOT-just-go-there-variety.

So, here’s a pretty good punny name well hung on the transom…

This one caught our attention in October on Sheepshead Bay, during a private lesson at our new branch down there. Don’t know the make of the boat; has pleasing lines not dissimilar to Kilroy (Pearson 10M).

And, I’m closing this out with the worst name I’ve ever seen. No others going forward are even slightly likely to overtake this one, and I wouldn’t want to overtake this boat…

Worst. Name. Ever. (Hey! THAT’S a name!!!)

Sail Away in Sheepshead Bay!

Our first class there taught them how to sail a boat in Brooklyn – or anywhere else.

Our first Brooklyn schedule is basically in the books. We did days 1 & 2 (out of 3) at our new location in Sheepshead Bay hosted by the Miramar Yacht Club.

So..? How did it go?..

In that pic: the lucky first three students at our new Brooklyn location in Sheepshead Bay. That’s the Marine Park Bridge in the left background connecting Flatbush Avenue to the Rockaways, and Breezy Point behind the sailors.

Exceeded our expectations. Not by much, as they were rather high based on due diligence, it not being our first rodeo, etc. Probably just the weather: as that’s so unpredictable these days, we were pleasantly surprised at the pleasant weather. This area gets a more reliable afternoon sea breeze than anywhere else around here – definitely a check going in the ‘PRO’ column. It was dead in Western LI Sound on Saturday afternoon, so our 103 course in progress there reverted to maneuvering under power. No need for motors at the Gateway to the Atlantic, however. There was even a Pearson 30 sailing out under main alone. Impressive.

In that pic: a Pearson 30 in the background, which sailed out of the Bay under main alone. In the foreground is the Amanda Rose, the Ensign sloop we were aboard for the course.

The ‘CON?’ The super-close deli/food mart is a bit slow for banging out the lunch orders. So we learned we’ll have to call those in, cross the street, and pick them up. Coffee? Decent (by our Dockmaster’s rather high standards). Quesadillas? Great. Overall, lunch experience def not a deal breaker. We have yet to explore what else there is to try around here. (BYO always possible.)

The Bay is super protected, so there are never large motorboat wakes rocking the boats when boarding, rigging, departing, or returning to the mooring. We came and went numerous times each day, often just for practice. We had a few small wakes over the course of the weekend; nothing that interfered with anything.

Getting out from the Bay to Rockaway Inlet, the large, wide body of water around the corner? It was anywhere from very manageable to easy at all times. I expected to have trouble sometimes with beginning students. It was more or less as it is everywhere: see if there’s a direction you prefer or maybe need, to start in. (Often there is none.) Check whether there’s a gust of breeze approaching. Hoist sails. Check for boat traffic. Time the wind, and let go the rope!

Next: short sail around the corner, along the east end of Coney Island, to get to open water. That is tight sometimes, but everyone is doing it. If the wind is coming from where you’re going, you must zig-zag to get there. (There’s your first sailing lesson!) Not a problem if the waterway is wide open. This channel is a bit tight, so one must focus on the sailing and also look for other boat traffic. Most of that is sailboats, so they all get it. Most of the rest? The fishing fleet, which come and go twice a day typically, so they’re used to it and going slow and steady. It works out.

VIDEO CLIP: CLICK TO PLAY. An Ensign sloop sailing out of Sheepshead Bay, off Kingsborough Community College.

More than half the time, the wind allows sailors coming around the corner from Sheepshead Bay to aim straight where they want to go and just, well… go. And, it if it’s a zig-zag getting out (the direction that more often requires it), coming back after sailing is the easy part. Straight! The prevailing sea breeze from the south allows for easy returns, and also for easy approaches to the mooring when done.

How about the sailing once outside? Superb! It’s very roomy in the Inlet, which feels more like a bay. We don’t have to leave Rockaway Inlet to do any training for learn-to-sail/101, and even to just cruise and enjoy a bit, it’s hard to leave this playpen. There are several options awaiting, however, for variety and for longer-distance sails in our cruising courses and for Sailing Club members who want to get off the leash and roam.

The boat we’re teaching on down there? Awesome! The Pearson Ensign, designed in 1962 and still going strong today. In fact, it’s resurgent. The Miramar YC has around 20 of them in the fleet, as well as any number of other sailboat designs members keep there. We’re using a Club-owned boat and have other member-owned boats on standby that they’ve volunteered.

VIDEO CLIP: CLICK TO PLAY. Watching a nice ketch with wood masts returning to Sheepshead Bay as we continue to practice and play aboard our Ensign.

The Ensign has been a popular day sailor and racing class since its inception. The Class Association has licensed new builders in the last decade or so, which is rare for a design of this vintage. Carl Alberg, the venerable naval architect who thought it up, got it right. The boat sails very well across the wind spectrum, is super roomy and comfortable, and very stable due to its full keel. It’s an excellent choice for this area, which includes Breezy Point. The name is appropriate. Each time we’ve sailed here, there were always other Ensigns sailing in and out of the Bay. Always sailing; never motoring, although some of the boats do have engines.

No dolphin or whale sightings this weekend. We did see gamefish busting up bait on the surface with terns diving on the bait from above. Only a matter of time before we see full-on feeding frenzies (blitzes) and some dolphins. Whales are less common to see, so that might require a day trip on the Tartan 10 for our Start Cruising course when the timing is right.

So far, so good! It’s a hospitable environment, both at the Miramar Yacht Club who are gracious and enthusiastic hosts (who actually go sailing too), and on the water. It feels like we’re out in the Hamptons are on the Cape. Yet, there it is, behind us and the trees along the beaches: the NYC skyline, reminding us how short a distance we are from home despite feeling a thousand miles away.

In that pic: a C&C sailboat off Plumb Beach, just outside Sheepshead Bay, competing with the skyline for our attention. It won. Plumb Beach is part of Gateway National Recreation Area, and we saw kiteboarders doing there thing there!

Come join us in Brooklyn! We can teach you to sail in a few days. Then, you can join Miramar Yacht Club and sail the same type of boat you just learned on as well as meeting members of the Club with other boats – and who knows how many might invite you sailing on their boats?

“Location, location…” Yup: we now have two!

Now you can learn how to sail a boat with us out of Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn as well as City Island – the best locations in NYC and the Tri-State Region!

IN THAT PIC: an Ensign sloop, full and by as they say, off Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, approaching Breezy Point, Queens!

We’ve had a lot going on this spring & early summer. We moved the school down the street on City Island. I wrote a textbook (separate post coming on that). And, we explored opening a satellite branch in Brooklyn. And did it!

Now, we’re at the Gateway to the Sound and the Gateway to the Atlantic! The northern and southern extremes of NYC both offer ideal sailing – and learning – conditions. Your hardest decision might just be which Borough to book.

IN THAT PIC: the NYC Subway Map, with black stars at our two locations – the Bookends of the Boroughs, and the Gateways to the Goods! City Island is at the top, just off of NYC’s largest Park (Pelham Bay). Sheepshead Bay is at the bottom, close to Gateway National Recreation Area, in green – like, you know… parks.

Our new host is the Miramar Yacht Club. It’s a wonderful cooperative that’s been around since 1905. It’s in Sheepshead Bay, a super protected port that allows sailing straight off the mooring before exploring Rockaway Inlet, Gravesend Bay, the Verrazano Narrows, and even the Atlantic. Have a little time? Head into very large Raritan Bay, with Sandy Hook creating a natural barrier to ocean swells when they occur.

While nearby Jamaica Bay and parts of Rockaway Inlet can have decent currents, most of this area has the mild currents that make for great sailing in general, and learning in particular. Miramar has a sizable fleet of Ensign sloops, and they race on Wednesday nights. A large majority of them never use engines to get out and about, and also back. That was a huge checkmark in the right column for me.

And, Ensigns are what we’ll be sailing on initially (and possibly also their Tartan Ten). Here’s a fleet!..

IN THAT PIC: Ensigns racing out of Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, from the Miramar Yacht Club.

If Montauk is “The End,” as the bumper stickers say, Breezy Point is “The Beginning.” Clear waters are flushed between Jamaica Bay and the Atlantic Ocean, with an abundance of fish and birds. How about marine mammals? Dolphins are regular, common visitors.

You can expect to see dolphins.

David Shin, Commodores, Miramar Yacht Club

Whales? They occur too, says David, albeit not as commonly. While all this could be a bad sign from a global warming perspective, at least we can enjoy it while we pursue sailing – something with a low carbon footprint that’s not exactly a guilty pleasure.

How does one get there?

Driving, public transit, or even bicycle. There’s good street parking in the area (sorry, no on-site parking due to limited space for members). Subway? Take the B during the week and the Q on weekends. Bus transfer, or grab a drink from Starbucks and walk. Have a bike? Bring it aboard and shoot over. Or, we can pick you up from the subway.

Speaking of pick-ups, here’s one of the Club’s launches at dusk (I shot this pre-season before it splashed)…

IN THAT PIC: dusk at the Miramar Yacht Club in April. The boat? One of their two diesel launches. The tower on the left? Their hoist to dry-sail boats and to haul for winter. The waterway is Sheepshead Bay, with Coney Island behind.

Expect to see an announcement from us about an Open House soon. In the meantime, if you want to explore this exciting new option for learning to sail, just contact us and we’ll discuss scheduling or just a tour!

To see more about our host there, the Miramar YC, follow this link…

https://www.miramaryc.com/

“A school has no name…”

…or is it no location?  Or too many, so a school is confused about where it is?

Do two (or three) wrongs make a right (location)?

Wonder what percentage of you get the GoT reference of this post’s title. (If you don’t get GoT, let us know and we’ll bring you up to speed.)

Hint…

GoT final scene
Wings over water – on sailboats and soaring dragons. Final scene of season six finale, Game of Thrones.

WTF am I talking about?  Sailing schools who are geographically challenged and are either so confused they don’t know where they are – or want you to be so you sign up for their school at one of their dubious digs.

Example: a school is named after a geographic location.  An island.  They had to move from that island to a neighboring state.  They still reference teaching at that original island in their blurb on the ASA School’s page. But a girl has to cross a river to get to them.  (oops; there’s another GOT reference…)

Another example: a school has three locations, none far from the others (and all in our state).  One moved across the bay it’s located in.  Map page still shows it where it isn’t.  At least it’s the right bay.   One is entirely new.  It’s listed on the ASA page as being in a particular Bay, where they say the sailing is Great.  But a school is not in this bay.  It is in another, far away, and the sailing is not in this tiny bay.  A school sails in an inlet on an ocean. (And a school cannot hide from that ocean’s swells.)

What do we care?  We like good old fashioned, straight up honest advertising.  Plus, we’re very proud of our location.  It’s extremely accessible from so many places, both by public transit and car.  The area is insanely good for teaching sailing and just enjoying a day sail or a cruise.

Some schools have multiple locations.  Some locations have multiple schools.  Tiny little City Island, barely a mile and a half long, has historically been home to two sailing schools – sometimes just one, and for a time, three.  Plus, it has two college sailing teams.  Both those universities have campuses on Manhattan.  But, they sail out of City Island.  Finally – we have three yacht clubs on the Island and the vast majority of their members’ toys are sailboats.

We have had opportunities to add a satellite location at the “bay on the ocean,” on the Hudson, etc.  We have always declined.  Not worth having a location slightly more convenient to Manhattanites, or to spread ourselves around hoping to capture another demographic, just to take clients’ money and give them a piss-poor education and experience that, if they even learn properly from, they’ll soon outgrow.

A school has an ethic.