Captain's Log: Stardate 11077.8
This past weekend, the Enterprise competed in the Port Washington Yacht Club Charity Cup Regatta benefitting the Family and Children's Association, an organization which protects, nurtures and shelters abused children. Very fitting, I should add, because for this race, the Enterprise was sheltering three abused crewpeople from Fantasy Girl: Stephan, Seagal and Robert.

"We're not allowed to talk and we can't eat," said Seagal, one of the three abused. "And the week before, they jybed while [her boyfriend] Stephan was on the boom and sent him into the Long Island Sound. They didn't stop either. Another boat picked him up."

As much as I explained that sailing on the Enterprise was vastly different, the three of them very nervously stepped on board and made careful mental notations of the locations of life vests, harnesses, throw ropes, radio, flares, and the other emergency equipment on board.

How different are things on the Enterprise? When beating to Can One, one of the crew asked if I saw the mark. I simply replied, "Yes, I see the mark. It's below me." Perhaps, on the other boat, the response would have been, "Yes, I see the mark. Blow me."

Now, I'm not saying that we're better than Baby Daddy Nanni or Dick Esposito, and maybe cursing, dumping crew overboard and stress is the way to consistent performance on the race course, but we had the Enterprise at Warp 7.9 without the spinnaker between Can One and Gong 29, all while eating lunch and making jokes. There was even a moment when Seagal took a nap on the deck in the bright sunshine.

And, get this, we WON. First Place. Nobody cursed at. Nobody overboard.

After the finish, we went ashore for the post-race festivities at PWYC, where there was a bountiful spread of food that would put any event on City Island to shame. Then again, there had to be a lot of food, because it took the Race Committee 38.5 hours to calculate the results.

Plus, they had to feed their protest chairman. I won't say he's a big guy, but he kinda makes Jabba the Hutt look like a supermodel.

Between meals, Lt. Jonathan pulled out and began puffing on a Vapor "cigarette", a battery-operated flavored smoking stick, supposedly a safe alternative to real cigarettes. When he coughed on the fake smoke and the low battery light came on, and then finally hid them away in his plastic NASCAR lunchbox, I suddenly realized why people in the U.K. call it a "fag".

I can't remember the last time I saw Lt. Ellen laugh so hard.

As so, the season is winding down to an end. The Enterprise hauls in less than two weeks and it's time to start thinking about work to be done over the winter as well as the 2011 season.