Captain’s Log: Stardate 10660.0
This past weekend, the Enterprise competed in both the CIYC Leukemia Cup Regatta and the CIYC Women Skippers Race (a/k/a "Bi-atch Race 2006", a/k/a "Tits on Tillers".)

In my 30-plus years of sailing, 25 of which devoted to racing, I have never been in a race as frustrating as this year’s Leukemia Cup. The committee, eager to get a race in – any race – started us in under 5 knots of breeze. We tried to get a good position at the start, moving at a whopping Warp 2, when we got caught in a port/starboard situation with the Suliban vessel Chieftan, whose Captain’s physique made it clear that he spent more time at the barbecue hanging off the stern of his boat than at the helm. We had to get out his way, but were faced with a lobster pot in our way. Instead of letting us pass (what a dick – he had plenty of room,) he forced us to get hung up on the anchor line. 30 second to go. We can’t shake free. Were we doomed?

No. Ensign Jonathan stripped down to his Hello Kitty boxer underwear and jumped in, although we couldn’t be sure if it was to clear the anchor line or because he missed the intimacy of his relationship with brine shrimp. Anchor line cleared, airlock 3 open, airlock 3 closed, and we were on our way. We followed the only wind channel we could find, hoped the current would do what it was supposed to and took the right-side of the first leg. It paid off big time and we were back in the race, passing boats that had started 5 minutes ahead of us.

The downwind (and I use the term “wind” very loosely) leg was brutal to the nth degree. Moving along at a little over Warp 1 and baking in the heat of the midday sun. Most of the crew were falling asleep on the leeward rail in the shade of the main.

The wind built from the South as we rounded the next mark and the Enterprise began to fly at Warp 6. Several boats went towards the middle of the sound to make use of that breeze, but in the north, there was a stronger breeze building from that side. We inched our way over as the Southerly died and everyone who went that way paid the penalty.

We found the Northerly and accelerated to Warp 7.5 towards the finish, taking a Third in the regatta. At the barbecue party after the race, everyone compared the number of times they tacked on the last leg without changing course (we did six, I think) and how they marveled at our lobster pot clearing technique and our tactical moves. A great victory for the Enterprise. And, more importantly, the Enterprise fundraised and donated close to $1,000 for the cause.

The next day, Ensign Zoraida took the helm for not one, but two, Women Skipper’s Races (I had only brought enough Valium for one.) The first race was in 17 knots of wind creating quite a few “Ay Dios Mio!”s from our helmswoman. For the first start, I had her “close the door” on a competitor to windward by telling Zoraida to aim for the stern of the RC boat. Barreling along at Warp 6.7, the RC boat’s stern was coming up fast. So fast, I found myself telling Zoraida, “Now, don’t actually hit the stern. Committee’s don’t like it when you hit their boat.” We missed them by about a foot, close enough to see the tremendously worried look in the owner’s eyes.

We rounded the top mark in first place thanks to the expert work of the crew and Zoraida’s excellent steerage for Donald Trump’s penis in New Rochelle. Commander Jory worked well with Crewman Charlie on the foredeck while Charlie’s girlfriend, Zoraida’s boyfriend and Jonathan’s wife looked on. We rounded the downwind mark in first again and we turned back upwind to the finish – until the mainsail traveler exploded. We sailed solely on the jib while we replaced the blown shackle and lost a few minutes in the process. Main traveler repaired, we crossed the finish line first and corrected into Third Place.

And, starting a new tradition, Zoraida thanked Jory for his foredeck work by giving him a lap dance that lasted all about 5 seconds. We’re not sure if Jory liked it, but I could swear I saw a dollar bill sticking out of Zoraida’s shorts for the rest of the day.

The second race was almost as exciting, until the wind died on the downwind leg. Still, we caught the new breeze first and crossed the line ahead of the fleet. We finished overall in Third Place for both races and come November, Zoraida will have a trophy to take home.

We can see that not only is Zoraida great at foredeck, crew morale (she’s the cookie girl,) but she will one day blossom into a great helmsperson as well. She appears to have a great future in yacht racing as a member of the crew of the Enterprise. She needs to work on her points of sail and fright issues.

And, oh yeah, dump the lameoid.


Captain’s Log: Supplemental
I do have to say, with all honesty, that City Island Yacht Club is not only the best club on City Island, but the people and camaraderie that exists there may just make it the best club on the planet. I am honored to be a member of the club and, even more so, honored to call many of its members my friends.

A few weeks ago, two such friends, Alan Woliner and Dan Steinberg, were out on Dan’s ship, the USS Rubiyat, with a video camera shooting footage of a Wednesday Night race. The week after, some of us in the bar got to see an hour and change of the raw footage, mostly made up several EBYRA racing boats before and during the race all sailing around to the tune of a variety of beach music favorites, running from The Beach Boys to Jimmy Buffet to Caribbean steel drum bands.

Except when it came to footage of one boat in particular. Alan and his son, who apparently is a video editing expert, put together this little homage. . .

Cry Havoc! And let slip the dogs of war!

(I suggest you have a fast Internet connection when clicking on this. It’s 18 megabytes. But, trust me, it’s well worth it.)

Thank you, Alan. And thank you, Dan. This is truly a treat.