SATURN'S DAY:
I'd be the first to admit I'm a terrible choice to be PRO for a CBYRA level event. I can maybe handle club racing on a once a season basis. At any rate, it was with no small level of trepidation that I agreed to be PRO for our club's spring CBYRA-sanctioned race. But eveything went pretty well.
I'd gone to a lot of trouble to construct a really pretty colour-coded script file that gauranteed no screw-ups, and I printed out three copies, one for each of the crew. Of course, like a complete idiot I left them on the printer at home...
For those of you have never run a race, a script is the timing you can read out loud to the RC crew to make sure the right flag goes up at the right time and with the right sound. I find that they are pretty much full-proof, but they have to actually be on the boat, not at home on the printer.
And so it went! Luckily, the wind gods were bountyful. The predicted 0-3 kn from everywhere turned out to be a wonderful SSE 10-14 gusting 16. Perfect.
And we had the perfect RC boat, Bryan A's wonderful Tayana "Vancouver" 42, a Robert Harris design that's solid as a rock, yet quite lively to sail, when we took a breather to beam-reach over to Love Point to watch our fleet on their spinnaker runs.
We knew we had to get back to Balto Light to finish the boats, involving a sprint across the CRAiGHILL ENTRANCE CHANNEL, but the Dutch Bulk Ore carrier "SPAARNEGRACHT" had other designs and we had to lay patiently as she went by at 12 knots.
The day was so gorgeous, one of our racers decided to go for a sail after they finished. And the party at the PSA clubhouse was crankin; when we finally docked the RC boat. Thanks again to Bryan and Jamie who made the RC work fun and efficient!
SUNDAY:
Woke up after a decent night's sleep on a boat on a floating dock. Is that a day on the water? I suspect it was. It was a solid seven hours and I staggered up to the clubhouse to wash off the grit from all three quarts of sunscreen I used yesterday for the race. I'm on a scrip for possible Lyme's Disease and it makes folks fry in they are in the sun too long. I figured out why a couple of folks asked me if i "was ok?" the day before. All that zinc-oxide had turned my face an ashen gray and I looked a couple of days from Death's Door.
Back at the boat, I tried to find the wasp that kept me company all night and gave up. It's in there somewhere but apparently it didn't mind me snoring next to it and it left me alone. The giant welt on my neck is from something else.
Good times!