Captain’s Log: Stardate 10365.8
It’s been a while since I’ve made an entry in the log, mostly due to the hectic days around Star Fleet Command (work.) Anyway, if one good thing can be said about last night’s race, it’s this:

For most boats, the calculation of which race to throw out involves a computer, an Excel spreadsheet and a better-than-average understanding of how both work. After last night, we don’t need no stinkin’ computers – we know exactly which race to toss. And toss it we will.

Lt. Mitch, who was to blame for our performance the week before (trying to pull down a spinnaker using the same two clews that pull 11,000 pounds of Enterprise through the water – he’s lucky he wasn’t launched into the stratosphere,) can easily be blamed for last night’s race as well by not showing up. Instead, Mitch decided he’d rahther pahk his cahr with his fahmily in Cape Cahd (which isn’t thaht fahr from Bahston.)

Replacing Mitch last night was Becky from USS Exuberance, who came to the club in her new Turbo Jetta (think “Jumbo Shrimp” or “Advanced BASIC” or “Clearly Misunderstood” or “Tight Slacks” or “Microsoft Works” or, well, you get the idea.) She did pretty well on foredeck and I believe Commander Dave found her much easier to look at than Lt. Commander Jory or Lt. Mitch.

Also on board was Ensign Lefty (who found flashlight duty far too challenging,) Lt. Kurt (whose wife told him that he’d better get home right away and he assumed on his own that this meant after sailing – nice knowing you Kurt,) the triumphant return of Ensign Hilde, and . . .

Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert! Deflectors up full! Security teams have been put on high alert and biomedical teams are standing by. There’s an alien on board originating from the Herpes Simplex galaxy and it has taken control of Ensign Patty’s lips. Don’t touch her! For heaven’s sake man, don’t kiss her! Stay clear and arm yourselves if you have to. This could be worse than the Borg!

In all honesty, Patty took quite a bit of ribbing last night and she should receive a lot of credit for, knowing the way we are, just showing up last night with that... that... thing.

Of course, the best part was when Patty said “I think I got it from my father” and then, realizing what she had just said (and to the group to which she had said it,) frantically searched the Enterprise for a time machine so she could go back a few minutes and stop herself from saying it.

With only two more races to go, the fight for second place continues on – a second throw out will do us very well. By next week, we should have our full crew back in action.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 10362.7
Today, the Enterprise finished in what we believe to be second place after racing for over 14 hours in the CIYC Distance Race. The ship and her crew performed exceptionally well in a variety of weather conditions. And, it during this race, when I realized one thing.

We’re a bunch of perverts.

One would think that this realization would come to light after all the “in-your-end-o” in this captain’s log, the consumption of two butt-cakes, the search for Tune-spooge in the v-berth, or the following of the exploits of Lt. Laura skinny-dipping with Bob Vila.

But it was when Lt. Mitch decided to consume a dark chocolate penis while seeing just how much reflection he could get when aiming a laser pen light at Lefty while she wore silver spandex pants that pretty much sent us over the edge.

Right now, Lt. Kurt, Commander Richard and Ensign Hilde are saying “Wha-?” As creative as I like to think I am, I couldn’t make this stuff up in a million years.

Let’s digress, shall we? The race started in very light winds followed by some frustrating sail configuration changes and almost getting run over by 80 or so speedboats. The wind finally increased some and it was a pleasant day sail to the first and only mark.

Right before reaching the first mark, a storm system came through that had me suggesting “What do you guys think about a sail change?” to screaming “Get that sail down now!” in a matter of seconds. The winds kicked up over 30 and the Enterprise was moving at Warp 7 on the main alone. Elsewhere, the USS Phoenix broached – Thankfully no one was hurt.

The crew thought the mark rounding was disappointing. Well, not so much the rounding, but the mark itself. After sailing for a full day, we were hoping for something a lttle more extravagant than a red buoy covered with seagull shit. Ah, the opulence of yacht racing.

The crew took turns on the helm and we passed the entire spinnaker division that started ahead of us tacking up the Sound. Dinner was well-received, Lefty got a good look at some tugboats, and we were able to come up with a true test to see of MarTune really loves Patty.

We passed Execution light and the wind clocked down to a tenth of a knot – in fact, it took us over 2 and a half hours to finish from there. The USS Exuberance, on her maiden race voyage, had to engage their impulse drive to avoid a barge (all after 13 hours of racing – ouch!) while the USS Tolo did their impression of New York City just a couple days before (a complete loss of power.)

We finished around two in the morning, and I’m extremely thankful and proud of the crew and their performance (at least those that showed up.)

Captain’s Log: Stardate 10362.2
“Scotty, I need power!”
"I cannae do it sair! The system is overloaded!”


And so it was for most of the Northeast United States and parts of Canada. Despite the commuter woes, the heat, the humidity and the business loss, we should take some time to look at the positives for the great blackout of 2003.

Fox News was off the air.

Shea Stadium was dark, so the Mets couldn’t lose.

Z-100 stopped playing music (although I imagine that would be bad for aspirin sales.)

We did get to see the night sky as clearly as we would racing in the Around Long Island – all without the puking.

There’s still uncertainty as to the cause, whether this started in New York City or from a Niagara/Tomahawk shutdown in Canada, but I’m betting on Canada. The bastards!

Or, maybe Richard tripped and kicked out a plug somewhere.

Assuming the power stays, I’ll be purchasing and assembling the meals for the Distance Race. As of now, all systems are go! I do suggest, however, that any crew that are planning on taking the subway Saturday morning come up with an alternate mode of transportation.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 10361.9
As I was working inside Jeffries Tube S4 trying to restore power to our subspace beacon (the mast light) my communicator chirped. It was Commander Richard calling in from New Mexico.

“Eddie. Where are you?”
“On the Enterprise.” (duh)
“Is everyone there?”
”Everyone except one. And he doesn’t care about us anyway.”

That single, yet brief, conversation will pretty much sum up Richard’s involvement for the month of August. Luckily, as part of his punishment, he’ll be heading off the France soon, which for some reason seems to be a million miles closer to the sun than the rest of the planet. This is a particularly tough time for France, as this is the first time they are in adverse conditions without knowing who exactly to surrender to.

The race was a non-event. The light southerly breeze was replaced with a light westerly breeze, which then clocked northwest, and then south. It was like Patty was somehow steering the wind.

After the race, while the crew was comparing my legal arguing style with that of Lt. Columbo (not of Star Fleet,) I appeared on a protest hearing regarding the eligibility of a boat that raced against us in the Women’s Skipper’s Race. Most of the issues were very cut-and-dry, but the main issue, the fact that the boat’s rating is invalid, should seal the deal and get them disqualified. I won’t say that I “hate” the other boat’s captain, with hate being such a strong word and all, but, nevertheless, he should be thankful that carrying a phaser is not part of the standard uniform. Even one that’s set to kill.

The boat’s disqualification will award Ensign Patty with a third place trophy, which I hope she receives. Otherwise, the only thing she’ll have to show after her years of racing on the Sound is MarTune.

Distance Race, here we come.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 10361.1
As every officer in Star Fleet knows, according to the charter of the United Federation of Planets, the mission is always the priority and everything else is expendable. The ship. The crew. All expendable.

It was this past weekend during the Women Skipper’s Race when that passage of the charter was more than just a mere credo, but a terrifying possibility.

Ensign Patty had the conn in more than the standard WSR 3 knots of breeze. Overall she did pretty well – that is before she knew we were racing. It was 3/4 way up the windward leg crossing tacks with USS Watercolour when Patty asked “Aren’t we getting far from the start line?”

”Yes,” I replied. “That’s the idea.”

The tacks continued, the Enterprise heeling hard, cruising at a steady Warp 5, and approaching the windward mark. Patty then said, “I’m getting tired. When do we start?”

I shit you not. We would have been better off not telling her. All of a sudden, the pressure was on. We rounded the windward mark and upon being directed to go North (she’s from Canada and should know where North is,) Patty then began to maneuver the Enterprise in such a way that Dave and Jory were bracing themselves and that had me wishing I had installed seat belts in the cockpit. The spinnaker pole went vertical. The ship lurched. I began to believe we were going to jibe, tack, jibe, jibe and then somehow run our bow into a collision with our own midship.

For a moment, we would have felt safer sailing on Eagle.

Patty did regain control of the helm and I must commend the great work of Dave and Jory on the foredeck (after Dave put on a life jacket) and the work of Captain Jeff, Lt. MarTune and the returning Lt. Debra (all from the still un-launched USS Exuberance) for getting things back under control. The Enterprise finished the mission in third place and in one piece.

We’re ready for another Wednesday night and then our overnight trek to mid sound during the Distance Race.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 10360.0
Expecting another evening of thunderstorms and dead winds, we were once again pleasantly surprised at the nice breeze and beautiful conditions for last night’s race. We had a great start, played every lift & header, and, according to Mitch, correctly played the commercial traffic passing through the sector.

Martin Tune, of the still-to-be-launched USS Exuberance, was given a two-fold mission: While sailing with the USS Tolo, to make sure to stay behind the Enterprise and to beat the livin’ crap out of the gay Klingon ship, Neverland Express. I’d like to say that he went on this mission for the good of the Federation, however, I think his motivation came from the threat of lost nookie from an Enterprise ensign.

While the Enterprise did beat Tolo, Martin failed at keeping Neverland behind. In corrected time, it was Enterprise, Neverland and Tolo, but with Ear-Cheese, who finished 7 minutes later, correcting into first place. We seem to have a real problem with Ear-Cheese. Does anyone have a 20-foot Q-Tip?

In the overall scoring, the Enterprise remains in second place, but Tolo was knocked into fourth. Our reach for first is still a good possibility, especially now that Commander Richard will be in New Mexico where he will have whatever is left of his manhood stripped from him. Word has it we won’t see him again until September. Beach house party anyone?

Patty is ready to take the conn for this weekend’s Women Skippers Race and I have started taking valium. Yes, it is the “Women Skippers Race.” All of the suggestions that have been sent in for renaming the race are being ignored (Bitch Race 2003, T’n’A on the Bay, Tits and Tillers, Babes on Boats, and Ho’s on the Helm.)