Captain's Log: Stardate 10766.3
There was a point last night on the first upwind leg that Commander Richard's cell phone rang, and I told him to shut it off. That, my friends, was the biggest mistake of the night and it all falls on me.

Because that phone call could have been something important that could have kept Richard on the phone for several minutes, perhaps hours, and then he would have been too busy to give opinions about which side of the course to go on, when to ease off to make the windward mark and so on and so on.

With a dying breeze and bad tactical decisions left and right, our fate was sealed on the first leg alone, leading to a clusterfuck of biblical proportions. And, just to piss on our proverbial grave, we couldn't get around the first mark and then it seemed we were the only boat in all of Long Island Sound to find the only windless hole in the universe that is over one billion light years across, and I had no idea it even existed until I read about it in today's Yahoo! News (link to article.)

And when a boat off of New Rochelle started shooting off fireworks, the crew figured it was a better time to watch the pretty lights and argue about the make and model of the BB gun in the movie "A Christmas Story" than stuff like, oh, spinnaker trim, downhaul, mark locations and so on.

But it wasn't all bad. Our tacks were super-fast and our spinnaker sets have reached legendary status. It's now amazing to watch the bow team of Captain Dave and Yeoman Brittany work so well with pitmen Lt. Jonathan and Yeoman June.

We crossed the line last, and on corrected time, we have still yet to finish.

Luckily the crew had the right idea – as Jonathan picked up the mooring, most of them were down below quickly drinking down three bottles of wine and ravaging through a bag of tortilla chips.

There's only two Wednesday Night races left. Suggest investing in liquor stores.