Captain’s Log: Stardate 10323.6
Last night, Lt. Mitch and I went to a sailing seminar at the Morris Yacht and Beach Club, featuring a senior sales manager of a local sail loft on City Island. The presentation, which included such high-tech devices like a 3 foot by 1 foot white board and a dry-erase black marker that had less ink than a No. 2 pencil, had the 50 or so attendees squinting and watching the presenter helplessly freeze like a deer caught in headlights. Thankfully, once the attendees started asking questions, the situation quickly remedied itself and some new information was learned by all. It’s amazing how some of the most basic sailing physics can open your eyes again to boat performance. One of the points of the seminar was that sailboat racing is about inches and that every inch gained counts towards a victory. Therefore, I’m asking every member of the crew not to delete those SPAM emails about special pills or procedures that can add 2 to 3 inches to what you have.

After the seminar, we had dinner at Rhodes with Bill, a crewperson on the USS Eagle. Discussions ranged from crew positions, ex-Enterprise crew (we miss you already, Laura) to tips on how to survive sailing with Ernie. I can’t go into more about the discussion, but I will say an evil plot is being formulated…

Talking about Ernie, a few members of the Enterprise crew are planning to go to his home for a season-starting celebration party. I wouldn’t necessarily say that Ernie lives far away, but if you remember the premise of Star Trek: Voyager -- you know, the fact that they were sent so far away that it would take them 60 years at Warp 5 to get back to Earth -- Well, that’s child’s play compared to this voyage. Hopefully we’ll find a wormhole to get us in and out of New Jersey before Dave’s unborn child is ready for college.