Post by ibex on May 16, 2009 17:12:36 GMT -5
I took a math class in grad school (the last time around) once called "Real Analysis". Its basically the foundation for why calculus works and at the heart of it is basically proving that if you have a sequence of numbers - that the sequence "goes somewhere" or converges to "something."
If today's session of windsurfing is any indication - the prospects of converging towards a lifetime of joy from this pursuit and the people that are a part of it - are looking pretty good.
Amanda and I rolled into Seneca SP and as we were rigging 6.3 and 7.5 respectively, we were joined by Sharon (another guy Matt?) and Suan. The wind was forecast to be S 18-20 with gusts around 30 but it felt more like 15-ish, as the south breeze pushed up "friendly looking" whitecaps on each of the waves heading towards the N end of the lake. I *finally* have learned to get proficient at rigging this gorgeous sail (after only 20-odd attempts) and soon it is smoothly whisking me across the lake on my 120L board, and takes me well over a mile from our launch point.
It felt great to settle back into the sailing routine, a vast improvement over my 3 previous days of sailing this week, I was stoked to be able to get in the straps a mere 200yds from shore. For no other reason than having the opportunity to sail several days in a row, I feel like the pieces of technique are coming together. From the outset, the big rolling swells out of the S feel welcoming and it feels incredible to actually have the feeling that its going to be a day to remember, in a great way, from the very first run.
After a few laps across the lake and back, the wind is picking up and Amanda and I swap boards (my 120L for her 105L) but I keep her spiffy HSM women's-specific Diva sail, with its giant yellow (with glitter!) daisy emblazoned on the leech while she goes to grab a smaller sail to go out on. Comfortable in my own masculinity, I first I feel a little underpowered on the smaller sail, but this quickly changes in the accelerating wind. Soon I see several other sails out on the water and Bill ("ninja-sensei" in his spare time) comes over to say hello and we are both stoked at the incredible day that is unfolding before us on the lake.
Its funny, one time I asked my buddy Mike (who ends up fielding the majority of my "newbie" questions) "so what is this whole 'bump and jump' sailing thing that people always talk about?" and his answer was "well, its basically like a really good S day at Seneca when the swells are up and every little wave turns into a jump for you to play with." Thursday was phenomenal (blowing 4.7 on a 120L board) but today felt even better at 6.3 on my first ever attempt at a 105L board. I don't have much to compare it to... but my feeling is that if this is that "bump and jump" sailing is about, I am definitely game for more.
For those who have never experienced swell sailing, imagine being in something like a hardware store or convenience store, where the shelving is about waist/chest high, and you are riding this hovercraft that has to ability to smoothly zoom over the top of each of the aisles, smoothly arcing up one side and down the other of the shelves, as you playfully dance among the aisles. That is basically what swell sailing is like, with this endless stream of waves stacked up for your surfing enjoyment. Each one offering the promise of a jump, the opportunity to carve and surf down its face at incredible speed, or simply ride "down the line" as you ride the trough between two swells.
The wind is getting really strong at this point and the grassy rigging area has 15-20 sails and nearly as many sailors, in various stages of the rigging/re-rigging/resting process, enjoying the gorgeous day. It really was a "who's who" of locals as the Ithaca crowd (Sharon, Suan, Amanda and myself) all got to mingle with the ROC cohort (Art, Bill, Ken, Mark, Joe, Ted, Brian and Mike - I know I am forgetting some folks here) - not to mention the half-dozen kiters that were ripping it up just N of us.
With the 'eyes wide open' lust for life that a 5 year old has running down a hill, I stop only to down a liter of water and am back on the water, wondering how in the h*ll I got to be so lucky to enjoy these fabulous moments. I am in the straps SCREAMING along, with my 175lbs leaning as far out as I can to resist the relentless pull of the sail. With the straps tightened over my booted feet, I feel like each wave is an opportunity to get blissfully airborne, carving at will up and down each wave face - and each reach keeps getting faster and faster in the incredible wind.
In a previous life, I attended the Navy's flight school down in Pensacola FL, and there is this great aviation term that applies to sailing, that is called VNE or "velocity to never exceed". Its basically the maximum speed an airframe can move through the air before it becomes unstable or the potential force generated by any control input might actually cause damage to the airframe. Its different for every aircraft, but there is an upper engineering limit on how much force any plane can safely withstand, and its important to be aware of it.
On my second-to-last reach of the day I recognize the point where I am within 10% of my VNE and the power from the sail is just immense, and so is the speed... but the siren's song of the water is simply irresistible, and I point the sparkly 6.3 towards the western shore for one last run. I suffer a few catapults along the way, and even manage to botch a couple gybes, but the lake is still a 3 mile wide playground of swells. Some places have little waves, some big, but every inch of it is incredible. On the last run back to shore, The pull of the sail is so strong, that even sailing upwind (at like 10 o'clock to the wind) I am leaning so hard against the harness lines, and carving the heel-side rail with such force, that my rear end is leaned out only inches off the water. I feel the wind accelerating even faster yet and feel myself getting withing 5% of VNE and its clear that its time to stop pushing my luck and get this big sail off the water.
While de-rigging it strikes me that without a doubt, today was my "lifetime best" day windsurfing. Not just for the incredible wind, but also for the great people I got to share it with. Every single person on that beach shared the same hungry taste for the wind and water, but more than that, they shared this wonderful sense of community. Everyone brought something different with them to the lake: a different place in life, a different experience, a different skillset, a different sail and board - but everyone left with the same incredible grin - the same warm feeling that comes from a great day of sailing. The kind that you remember for a long time.
I am already looking forward to the next S day at Seneca. Thanks again, and have a great night everyone!
Shawn
If today's session of windsurfing is any indication - the prospects of converging towards a lifetime of joy from this pursuit and the people that are a part of it - are looking pretty good.
Amanda and I rolled into Seneca SP and as we were rigging 6.3 and 7.5 respectively, we were joined by Sharon (another guy Matt?) and Suan. The wind was forecast to be S 18-20 with gusts around 30 but it felt more like 15-ish, as the south breeze pushed up "friendly looking" whitecaps on each of the waves heading towards the N end of the lake. I *finally* have learned to get proficient at rigging this gorgeous sail (after only 20-odd attempts) and soon it is smoothly whisking me across the lake on my 120L board, and takes me well over a mile from our launch point.
It felt great to settle back into the sailing routine, a vast improvement over my 3 previous days of sailing this week, I was stoked to be able to get in the straps a mere 200yds from shore. For no other reason than having the opportunity to sail several days in a row, I feel like the pieces of technique are coming together. From the outset, the big rolling swells out of the S feel welcoming and it feels incredible to actually have the feeling that its going to be a day to remember, in a great way, from the very first run.
After a few laps across the lake and back, the wind is picking up and Amanda and I swap boards (my 120L for her 105L) but I keep her spiffy HSM women's-specific Diva sail, with its giant yellow (with glitter!) daisy emblazoned on the leech while she goes to grab a smaller sail to go out on. Comfortable in my own masculinity, I first I feel a little underpowered on the smaller sail, but this quickly changes in the accelerating wind. Soon I see several other sails out on the water and Bill ("ninja-sensei" in his spare time) comes over to say hello and we are both stoked at the incredible day that is unfolding before us on the lake.
Its funny, one time I asked my buddy Mike (who ends up fielding the majority of my "newbie" questions) "so what is this whole 'bump and jump' sailing thing that people always talk about?" and his answer was "well, its basically like a really good S day at Seneca when the swells are up and every little wave turns into a jump for you to play with." Thursday was phenomenal (blowing 4.7 on a 120L board) but today felt even better at 6.3 on my first ever attempt at a 105L board. I don't have much to compare it to... but my feeling is that if this is that "bump and jump" sailing is about, I am definitely game for more.
For those who have never experienced swell sailing, imagine being in something like a hardware store or convenience store, where the shelving is about waist/chest high, and you are riding this hovercraft that has to ability to smoothly zoom over the top of each of the aisles, smoothly arcing up one side and down the other of the shelves, as you playfully dance among the aisles. That is basically what swell sailing is like, with this endless stream of waves stacked up for your surfing enjoyment. Each one offering the promise of a jump, the opportunity to carve and surf down its face at incredible speed, or simply ride "down the line" as you ride the trough between two swells.
The wind is getting really strong at this point and the grassy rigging area has 15-20 sails and nearly as many sailors, in various stages of the rigging/re-rigging/resting process, enjoying the gorgeous day. It really was a "who's who" of locals as the Ithaca crowd (Sharon, Suan, Amanda and myself) all got to mingle with the ROC cohort (Art, Bill, Ken, Mark, Joe, Ted, Brian and Mike - I know I am forgetting some folks here) - not to mention the half-dozen kiters that were ripping it up just N of us.
With the 'eyes wide open' lust for life that a 5 year old has running down a hill, I stop only to down a liter of water and am back on the water, wondering how in the h*ll I got to be so lucky to enjoy these fabulous moments. I am in the straps SCREAMING along, with my 175lbs leaning as far out as I can to resist the relentless pull of the sail. With the straps tightened over my booted feet, I feel like each wave is an opportunity to get blissfully airborne, carving at will up and down each wave face - and each reach keeps getting faster and faster in the incredible wind.
In a previous life, I attended the Navy's flight school down in Pensacola FL, and there is this great aviation term that applies to sailing, that is called VNE or "velocity to never exceed". Its basically the maximum speed an airframe can move through the air before it becomes unstable or the potential force generated by any control input might actually cause damage to the airframe. Its different for every aircraft, but there is an upper engineering limit on how much force any plane can safely withstand, and its important to be aware of it.
On my second-to-last reach of the day I recognize the point where I am within 10% of my VNE and the power from the sail is just immense, and so is the speed... but the siren's song of the water is simply irresistible, and I point the sparkly 6.3 towards the western shore for one last run. I suffer a few catapults along the way, and even manage to botch a couple gybes, but the lake is still a 3 mile wide playground of swells. Some places have little waves, some big, but every inch of it is incredible. On the last run back to shore, The pull of the sail is so strong, that even sailing upwind (at like 10 o'clock to the wind) I am leaning so hard against the harness lines, and carving the heel-side rail with such force, that my rear end is leaned out only inches off the water. I feel the wind accelerating even faster yet and feel myself getting withing 5% of VNE and its clear that its time to stop pushing my luck and get this big sail off the water.
While de-rigging it strikes me that without a doubt, today was my "lifetime best" day windsurfing. Not just for the incredible wind, but also for the great people I got to share it with. Every single person on that beach shared the same hungry taste for the wind and water, but more than that, they shared this wonderful sense of community. Everyone brought something different with them to the lake: a different place in life, a different experience, a different skillset, a different sail and board - but everyone left with the same incredible grin - the same warm feeling that comes from a great day of sailing. The kind that you remember for a long time.
I am already looking forward to the next S day at Seneca. Thanks again, and have a great night everyone!
Shawn
