Post by ibex on Nov 9, 2008 15:35:30 GMT -5
All,
After 4 attempts at trying to get out on the water (and getting skunked by lack of wind) the last 3 attempts in a row (got in water once, didn't even get wet twice, drove to Geneva and back twice) this morning was my chance to try to chase the elusive prize that is the waterstart.
With the forcast for SW and WSW at 10-15, my friend Amanda and I headed up to Seneca Lake Park and back to my former home of Geneva in the early morning light. Rigging was brisk in the 40 degree cold breeze, but the promise of good wind, and redemption from the multiple skunkings, made it almost feel giddy to get my gear out. Given that the day started with 8-10 mph winds (just shy of whitecaps) I rigged my 6.5, did my usual "pre-peeing" of my wetsuit with hot water and headed for the lake.
By the time I go in, the wind had swung nearly westerly and I took off perfectly parallel to the shoreline on a beam reach. Even 8-10 mph is enough wind to get a longboard up on plane and shortly I was in the harness lines and cruising along from the marina/channel outlet to the beach area and back again several times. A note of caution though, my hot pink fin took a pretty decent beating on the northbound reaches because it gets shallow very quickly and one of these days I am going to painfully understand the limits of what 20+ year old plastic can withstand. After a couple more runs, Amanda was out on the water as well, and I decide that (given my short timeframe for the day) its was time to try what I had come there for.
The wind speed was perfect, right at 12-14 mph and even though my bootie zippers kept slouching downward and gushing 50 degree water onto my cold feet, the rest of me was toasty in the incredible wetsuit that a still-anonymous friend of a friend generously set me up with. I hop off my board into the waist deep water, lower my boom as low as it will go, flip it over onto the tail of my board and wade, like a ship leaving port, outward bound for deeper water and the opportunity to see if I was going to be able face down this windsurfing milestone.
Starting with a few waist/chest-depth deep water beach starts, I feel like I am ready to try a real honest to goodness water start. Without really thinking about what would be the best way to approach this, I tack another 50yds offshore, depower the sail and jump into the water on the upwind side of the board, while holding onto the boom and luffing sail. The shock of the cold water hitting my face causes a gasp reflex and I take in a mouthful of lake water, as my entire body submerges beneath the waves. Even though my feet can feel the grasping of some weeds on the bottom, my feet never touch and the numbing cold tells me that I am fully committed to this attempt. Through no particular forethought on my part, but by some stroke of providence, my boom came to a rest on the tail of my longboard and is (mercifully) more or less balanced there while I spit out my icy mouthful.
Kicking with my cold stumps (read: feet), whose half-zipped booties refill with 50 degree water on every kick, I push the nose of the board downwind by pushing down the mast with my right hand, while my left hand clutches both the rear footstrap and boom as a pivot point for rotating the rig. The point (for anyone who hasn't done/tried a waterstart) is that there is this particular angle of attack that the sail needs (mast position relative to wind direction), where any slight raising of the boom will cause it to take a massive "bite" of air, and if everything is balanced and set up right, you get enough lift to partially raise your body from the water the rest of it supported by one foot that gets hooked on top of the board, which you bring via a sort of hooking motion under your butt. The first deep-water try at this ends up with the board rounding upwind and an unimpressive slumping back into the water.
After carefully repositioning the rig slightly more downwind (and getting pretty tired from the swimming) on my next attempt I get pulled from the water and amazingly find myself in a semi-crouch on top of my board, about to fall back in the water. With all the fortitude of a block of jello facing down a jackhammer, I manage to recover and am amazed to find myself on the successful side of my first real honest to goodness waterstart.
After another 45 minutes of effort I pull off another 2 and nearly get another 3 (thats 3.03 in my successful.sort_of_sucessful bookeeping system) and I am totally tired, hungry, and my dogs are frigid. After 20 min of rest, some tea, food and encouragement, I head back out, this time borrowing Amanda's rigged (5.3m) sail, given that the wind was now howling and the lake was full of whitecaps. I had a few more good runs (no more sucessful waterstarts though) and start to get a better feel for applying mast-base pressure while on plane. 15 minutes later I haul my exhausted self back onto shore and we start the process of de-rigging and we head homeward after a quick stop for some headache medicine (coffee).
In reflecting on this day, and what if anything it "means" in the context of my life and this journey to try and master a new sport, it occurs to me that I don't feel like a different (or really even "better") person, but again I feel this striking lack of fear towards these challenges that I used to be afraid of. Its hard to describe, I wasn't as elated as I thought I would be (maybe I was just too tired), but at the same time I tasted the quiet satisfaction of knowing that I had been able to put to practice the things (from gear to time and teaching) that so many people have generously shared with me.
Other than learning to be a better surfer and a better person, I don't know what is going to come next in my life, but I recognize that the paint is starting to dry on my first season of windsurfing. I realize that it is only through the unselfish things that my mentors have done for/given to me, that I am able to sit where I now am.
I think to myself that all I can offer them in return for their kindness, and hope... that is thanks enough; is to honor them by no longer remaining a beginner.
Have a great night everyone!
Shawn
After 4 attempts at trying to get out on the water (and getting skunked by lack of wind) the last 3 attempts in a row (got in water once, didn't even get wet twice, drove to Geneva and back twice) this morning was my chance to try to chase the elusive prize that is the waterstart.
With the forcast for SW and WSW at 10-15, my friend Amanda and I headed up to Seneca Lake Park and back to my former home of Geneva in the early morning light. Rigging was brisk in the 40 degree cold breeze, but the promise of good wind, and redemption from the multiple skunkings, made it almost feel giddy to get my gear out. Given that the day started with 8-10 mph winds (just shy of whitecaps) I rigged my 6.5, did my usual "pre-peeing" of my wetsuit with hot water and headed for the lake.
By the time I go in, the wind had swung nearly westerly and I took off perfectly parallel to the shoreline on a beam reach. Even 8-10 mph is enough wind to get a longboard up on plane and shortly I was in the harness lines and cruising along from the marina/channel outlet to the beach area and back again several times. A note of caution though, my hot pink fin took a pretty decent beating on the northbound reaches because it gets shallow very quickly and one of these days I am going to painfully understand the limits of what 20+ year old plastic can withstand. After a couple more runs, Amanda was out on the water as well, and I decide that (given my short timeframe for the day) its was time to try what I had come there for.
The wind speed was perfect, right at 12-14 mph and even though my bootie zippers kept slouching downward and gushing 50 degree water onto my cold feet, the rest of me was toasty in the incredible wetsuit that a still-anonymous friend of a friend generously set me up with. I hop off my board into the waist deep water, lower my boom as low as it will go, flip it over onto the tail of my board and wade, like a ship leaving port, outward bound for deeper water and the opportunity to see if I was going to be able face down this windsurfing milestone.
Starting with a few waist/chest-depth deep water beach starts, I feel like I am ready to try a real honest to goodness water start. Without really thinking about what would be the best way to approach this, I tack another 50yds offshore, depower the sail and jump into the water on the upwind side of the board, while holding onto the boom and luffing sail. The shock of the cold water hitting my face causes a gasp reflex and I take in a mouthful of lake water, as my entire body submerges beneath the waves. Even though my feet can feel the grasping of some weeds on the bottom, my feet never touch and the numbing cold tells me that I am fully committed to this attempt. Through no particular forethought on my part, but by some stroke of providence, my boom came to a rest on the tail of my longboard and is (mercifully) more or less balanced there while I spit out my icy mouthful.
Kicking with my cold stumps (read: feet), whose half-zipped booties refill with 50 degree water on every kick, I push the nose of the board downwind by pushing down the mast with my right hand, while my left hand clutches both the rear footstrap and boom as a pivot point for rotating the rig. The point (for anyone who hasn't done/tried a waterstart) is that there is this particular angle of attack that the sail needs (mast position relative to wind direction), where any slight raising of the boom will cause it to take a massive "bite" of air, and if everything is balanced and set up right, you get enough lift to partially raise your body from the water the rest of it supported by one foot that gets hooked on top of the board, which you bring via a sort of hooking motion under your butt. The first deep-water try at this ends up with the board rounding upwind and an unimpressive slumping back into the water.
After carefully repositioning the rig slightly more downwind (and getting pretty tired from the swimming) on my next attempt I get pulled from the water and amazingly find myself in a semi-crouch on top of my board, about to fall back in the water. With all the fortitude of a block of jello facing down a jackhammer, I manage to recover and am amazed to find myself on the successful side of my first real honest to goodness waterstart.
After another 45 minutes of effort I pull off another 2 and nearly get another 3 (thats 3.03 in my successful.sort_of_sucessful bookeeping system) and I am totally tired, hungry, and my dogs are frigid. After 20 min of rest, some tea, food and encouragement, I head back out, this time borrowing Amanda's rigged (5.3m) sail, given that the wind was now howling and the lake was full of whitecaps. I had a few more good runs (no more sucessful waterstarts though) and start to get a better feel for applying mast-base pressure while on plane. 15 minutes later I haul my exhausted self back onto shore and we start the process of de-rigging and we head homeward after a quick stop for some headache medicine (coffee).
In reflecting on this day, and what if anything it "means" in the context of my life and this journey to try and master a new sport, it occurs to me that I don't feel like a different (or really even "better") person, but again I feel this striking lack of fear towards these challenges that I used to be afraid of. Its hard to describe, I wasn't as elated as I thought I would be (maybe I was just too tired), but at the same time I tasted the quiet satisfaction of knowing that I had been able to put to practice the things (from gear to time and teaching) that so many people have generously shared with me.
Other than learning to be a better surfer and a better person, I don't know what is going to come next in my life, but I recognize that the paint is starting to dry on my first season of windsurfing. I realize that it is only through the unselfish things that my mentors have done for/given to me, that I am able to sit where I now am.
I think to myself that all I can offer them in return for their kindness, and hope... that is thanks enough; is to honor them by no longer remaining a beginner.
Have a great night everyone!
Shawn
