Captain’s Log: Stardate 10660.8
Last night’s conditions were close to perfect. Nice breeze, comfortable temperatures, and the crew of the Enterprise ready for action once again. And this time, we had an ace, a ringer, a sure thing: The Pope.

But, after a poor start (I really should stop listening to people and do my thing – we have better starts that way,) we had trouble gaining ground. The crew followed The Pope’s instructions to the letter, partially because of his experience and winning record, but perhaps more because of his new hobby involving shooting guns. I can see it now…

Pope: “Not a jibe set, a bear-away set!”
Dave: “Oops.”
((BANG)) -- ((SPLASH))
Pope: “Edd, you need a new foredeck person.”
Mitch: “Oh my God, he killed Kenny. I mean Dave!”
Kurt: “You bastard!”

It’s clear we have a lot of learning left to do on this Enterprise, but, despite the momentary heartbreaks, we did many things right. And there were some moments of real speed and catching up to the fleet. All in all, a job well done.

We learned some news things about sail handling, tacking, and backstay tension. I believe that if we combine them with what we know has worked for us in the past, we will do well again.

In the end, we finished where we normally have in the past, and although the Pope did seem a tad embarrassed to be associated with the whole “Enterprise” theme, I did notice he was wearing a NASA shirt. Right idea. Wrong century.

Back at the club, we celebrated Lt. Kurt’s 40th birthday, and then, probably related, the treatment for when the use of Viagra goes..., well, awry.