Captain’s Log: Stardate 10266.0
Last night gave us the “Countdown to Catastrophe” – and unfortunately, I’m not talking about some WWF event. It was: 3 spinnaker sets, 2 hourglasses, and all on 1 downwind leg. Usually, as captain, I take full responsibility for the conduct of my crew, but this time, in all honesty, it was all Laura’s fault. She wasn’t there.

The absence of Laura (and Mitch too) forced me to relinquish the conn to Richard (who kept us in bad air for half of the first leg and wanted to round the starting pin as a leeward mark.) Deb went on to handle the guy, and it clearly appeared she wasn’t out of practice (maybe that’s why Jeff is always smiling.) I mounted the spinnaker (not the penis, Jory – that’s your job.) and went on to handle spinnaker trim.

Oh yes. And Brad was missing, but then again, when is he not? (I think Brad is staying away because of his unpaid bar bill at the club.)

We crossed the finish line a half minute behind Frolic, and on corrected time, we should finish a week from Friday. As Jory said, we’ve had a lot of forgetful races this season. There are now only three left (as we’ll be doing race committee on the fourth.)

After hanging out on the mooring for a bit discussing Richard’s upcoming bachelor party and eating tortilla chips, we headed inside for a meal and to give Patty tips on how to get a guy (The full list will be available soon, but it does include alcohol, Viagra, slutty clothes and a tranquilizer gun capable of knocking down a medium-sized gorilla.) Patty demonstrated her “come hither” look, which pretty much ended the meal and cleared the table.

Before leaving, I met up with the captain and crew of USS Frolic, where we discussed the upcoming One-Handed Race, the Boatless Regatta, and a possible second Boatless Regatta in Atlantic City during the boat show. Also discussed was Martin Tune’s first day of command of the Frolic, which led to a mutiny attempt being held off at knifepoint.

One last note: One of the crew of Desperado wanted to know why their ship was designated as a Klingon ship and not another species. The answer is, quite simply, because Tommy Colucci is a Klingon. Here’s proof:

This is a photograph of Kor, a Klingon commander who was pitted against another Enterprise captain, James T. Kirk, while on a mission to the planet Organia (Star Trek: The Original Series – Episode 27: Errand of Mercy.) Those of you who have seen Tommy can not deny the resemblance.

Captain’s Log: Supplemental
I thought it would be appropriate to include in the log that Star Fleet, fearful to provide him with a brand new ship, has decommissioned the USS Boondoggle, renamed her to the USS Eagle and has restored command to Captain Bivona.

The Eagle’s original crew has been asked to return to duty, but many of them have either found a home on other starships (including Mitch, who is a welcome and vital part of the Enterprise crew) or have decided they rather stay off the rocks and out of the water.

If you’re a non-Enterprise crewperson, have an intrepid soul, someone who laughs in the face of fear and knows how to put on a PFD in under five seconds, I’m sure Ernie would like to hear from you regarding a crew position on the Eagle.

And I’ll remind you that my law firm does wills and estate work . . .

Best of luck to you, Ernie. Congratulations.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 10264.1
The full crew of the Enterprise (minus Brad, of course, who was either working or participating in some kind of speed-dating circle jerk, and Lefty, who made it a point to tell us that she wasn’t puking on Greek ferries) came out last night for a pleasant evening’s sail and a fairly exciting race.

The night started with us hauling Ensign Patty up the mast to repair the damage to the warp core caused by an error Dave made the week before. After much effort and untwisting halyards through small blocks, Patty yelled out “It’s coming!” loud enough for all of Eastchester Bay to hear. It was good for her.

Joining us for the first time was future step-cousin and Intruder nephew Jordy (although we’ll forever spell it “Geordi” for obvious reasons.) Geordi experienced the thrills of yacht racing, did some genoa work, and almost lost a sneaker in the process. All attempts to secure a VISOR for him to wear while on board were futile, as Patty explained that they just don’t make them in our century. Geordi heads out to a Star Fleet Academy in Pennsylvania today.

The race went fairly well, with two well-executed spinnaker sets and some fast-paced upwind legs. There were a couple of slow tacks and Lieutenant Laura spent more time looking for trimarans and humming an old Rick Springfield song than watching spinnaker trim, but the nice breeze and low humidity made for a great night.

Next week, both Laura and Mitch will be off the Enterprise on special assignments. I’ll be relinquishing the conn to Richard for the night to take over spinnaker trim and Deb will go back to handling the guy (because, frankly, Jeff was starting to get lonely.)

Captain’s Log: Stardate 10262.2
One would have thought with skyrocketing summer temperatures and solar radiation news alerts that conditions for last night’s race would have been hot, humid and dead winds.

Far from it. In 15 to 20 mph breezes (with gusts well over 20,) the Enterprise was in for a fast-paced night. Achieving well over Warp 5 on the main alone, we went with the smaller headsail and prepared for our start, knowing full-well I had to make up for last week’s disaster. I timed things out and made a long, fast drive for the line. The USS Frolic saw our approach and tried to tack underneath us, in an effort to gain advantage and push us over the line early – but seeing his tactic, I used the Enterprise’s speed and maneuvered the ship below him, pushing Frolic up and possibly over the line early. Frolic slowed and we crossed the line in first place.

The crew did an amazing job in very strong conditions. As we approached the first mark, despite the strong winds, we launched the spinnaker in what was our best set yet. The Enterprise accelerated and we never dropped below Warp 7. The takedown had to be a fast one, and during the clean-up, Lt. Commander Dave Beaver lost his hold of the spinnaker halyard, to which all he could say was “Oh shit.” The halyard went past Patty’s face and soared outward and upward as if it had its own Warp Drive.

We attempted to reach for it during tacks, but the high winds kept it aloft. We were doomed to a wing-on-wing downwind leg with a small headsail – and even though we were averaging Warp 5.2, and performed a well-executed jibe, it cost us position. We finished the race in fifth.

On our way in, we strapped Patty into the boson’s chair, which seemed to be ten sizes too big. After establishing orbit, we sent her upwards to try and restore our systems. The halyard, during our tacks and downwind leg, wrapped itself around the top of the mast and wouldn’t budge. We decided this would have to be fixed during daylight hours and then pondered whether or not to tie things off and leave Patty up there – and despite Laura’s pleadings, we brought her down.

Back in the clubhouse, we were teased by the club stewards with a promise of meatball parm heroes, tried to collect $1.00 for the viewing of race results and the catch phrase for the evening was “Mount the Penis” (words that Jory will not soon forget.)

It was probably the most exciting night of the season. Speaking of which, there are now only six races left in the Wednesday night series, the last of which we are scheduled to perform Race Committee duty. I’d like the crew to plan now for the One-Handed Race (a fun race) on September 21 and the Fall Series on October 5th and 6th.

Finally, both myself and the rest of the crew of the Starship Enterprise wish Dave the best of luck in his attempt to create a second life form with his wife Karen. We could be looking at a “next generation” of crew over the next several years. Just work hard, Dave. You’re approaching the outer edge of AMOC, Star Fleet’s “Allowable Months of Conception.”

Captain’s Log: Stardate 10260.3
In light easterly winds shifting north, the course in last evening’s race was close to pathetic. The first mark was a fetch, there were no jibes and the finish was a fetch. In a race like that, the start is everything – then it’s a parade to the finish. And our start was horrible. The crew did a great job of genoa tacking and spinnaker setting – and our defeat last night rested solely on my shoulders.

On board last night were the usual suspects, except for Richard, Deb and Lefty. We were all amazed at the sudden reappearance of Ensign Brad Nassau, whose acting career has gone so far off Broadway that to get to Times Square, he’d need a plane ticket.

The best part of last night had to be after the race. After establishing orbit, out came the beer, sodas, Doritos and Cheese Curls (a poor man’s Cheez Doodles.) We all sat on the bridge discussing whatever came to mind while Brad attempted to catch snapper (It took him and Mitch so long to assemble the pole that the fish caught on and left the area.)

Ensign Patty, who now has an official uniform – with built-in nipples, asked me to radio the USS Frolic because she left her pants on board over the weekend. I was sure to use the general hailing frequency so that everyone in the sector knew. Frolic located her pants and returned them to her (with a wet crotch area – insert your own joke here, there’s just way too many to choose from.) I suppose Jeff has some ‘splaining to do.

Lastly, Lt. Laura repeatedly explained that she was upset that my order to Jory to “Mount the penis” after the completion of the Women Skippers Race did not make it in the Captain’s Log. Happy now, babe?

Captain’s Log: Stardate 10259.5
Our weapons were ready. Our shields were up. The intrepid crew of the Starship Enterprise manned their battle stations as we went to red alert. I increased speed to Warp 4 and set course for the USS Frolic. For some reason, instead of having their weapons ready for return fire, the entire crew of the Frolic was wearing grass skirts and dancing a hula to ukulele music being played by their own Martin Tune. We approached, slowed and the order came to fire. Enough firepower was put forth to Frolic that sent their helmsperson Carol Weis running for cover, their Captain attempting to load a bucket to return fire, and the complete saturation of both the ukulele and Martin Tune. We made a few more passes, knowing they would return fire, but to make sure we hit Debra Weinstock (an Enterprise lieutenant that serves on Frolic on weekend missions – and under the Frolic’s commander most evenings) and Rebecca Robb. We then concentrated fire on USS Indecent Proposal, USS Chaika, USS Hub Bub and a few surprise hits on the Klingon battleship Desperado.

Business as usual before the Women Skippers Race.

Prior to departing, the crew ate a good meal and commenced introductions for our two guest replacement crew from the doomed USS Eagle, Tom and Resa. Tom will handle genoa trim and spinnaker guy, while Resa will help with foredeck (as long as there are no bananas up there.) As we ate, Laura and Patty began to blow (up) the six-foot penis. Laura was having some trouble, either from lack of experience or enthusiasm, but Patty quickly made up for it, during which she said she was reminded of high school. (She quickly said it was the song on Q-104 that reminded her of high school, not blowing a large penis, but none of us believed her at that point.) Once fully erect, we mounted the penis on the bow, to let everyone know how excited we were to be doing this race.

Once in the starting area, I gave the conn to Lt. Heald, hoping not to revisit the opening sequence of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, or when Deanna Troi took the helm of the Enterprise-D in Star Trek: Generations crashing it into Veridian III. There was a genuine look of concern from Dave, Jory and Kurt. Dave even sent his shoes overboard, yelling “Save yourselves! Swim to shore!”

With a decent start and shaky winds, the Enterprise performed well on a very long course. In most races, how the boat performs and places at the finish is the measure of a good race. Yet, for this race, the fact that there were no collisions, no injuries and no insurance claims, made for a very successful mission.

In all seriousness though, Laura did very, very well. The race was a real pleasure.

Even moreso if she’d get that penis-blowing thing down.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 10258.4
The crew of the Enterprise returned in full force last night, fully recovered from our ten-mile trek in rough seas in the 5% Around Long Island Regatta. Ensign Lefty didn’t make it down from Poughkeepsie, probably because she had to pull over to the side of the road a few times to throw up.

The winds were light and variable at first, but the 3:00 southerly came in (at 7:30) and provided us with a nice night of sailing. We started in second place with very little speed and almost hit the starting pin. Right behind us was USS Hub Bub, who tacked to get away from our bad wind, and ended up getting Bivona’d by losing their helm control (those crew persons from USS Eagle and who have ever sailed with Ernie certainly know the meaning of “Bivona’d”.)

Using her sly and evil tactics, The Intruder will be taking our tactical officer to New Mexico for a couple of weeks, thereby breaking his promise to both myself and the crew of his continued participation in Wednesday nights – not to mention his promise of an after-race pool party this Saturday following the completion of the Women Skippers Race. Adding in the fact that, tactically, Richard’s mind was already in New Mexico, he has sorely let the crew down.

Tactics aside, the crew performed exceptionally well with quick tacks, a fast spinnaker hoist and a few well-executed spinnaker jibes. We crossed the finish line in first place, correcting into third with USS Frolic and the Klingon warship Desperado a few minutes behind us.

On a final note, before leaving the mooring, Dave thought he saw Brad coming out on the launch, who turned out to actually be Mitch. This now raises a single question . . .

Brad who?