Captain's Log: Stardate 11247.0
Yesterday Starfleet was put on high alert. It seems that some force of unknown origin has pulled New York City and the entire Northeast portion of the United States a million miles closer to the sun. When we arrived at the Enterprise, I wondered just how warm the interior would be, surrounded by humidity and all hatches sealed up tight.

When I opened the hatch, I was met with a blast of hot air that could melt the polar ice cap. And then, without an environmental suit, I stepped down below.

The first Enterprise-themed sauna. A few more minutes down there and I could have finally dropped below the 200-pound mark.

Whoever was going to be repacking the chute tonight was going to be one unhappy camper and it had me thinking back to many years ago on the Enterprise-A when Andy Brick went below to pack the chute in the middle of August, then came back up drenched in sweat only to say, "It sucks down there."

Come to think of it, I believe that was Andy's last race.

The wind, all 7 knots of it, was coming from the North, which was a bit of a surprise given all our expectations for a South-Southeasterley thermal of epic speeds to cool off NYC's one double-oh-my-God heat index.

On board for the first time, was Crewman Nicole, proving to all that she does, in fact, exist. After getting acquainted with where things are on the Enterprise, we gave her some old kneepads and put her on the foredeck with Captain Dave. That'll teach her for missing the first third of the season.

She did well, learning the mish-mosh of control lines and dodging around the deck during tacks, until, during the third tack, her prescription sunglasses lunged outward, did a half-backflip and soared on a semi-perfect arc resulting in a minimum-splash entry into Eastchester Bay. And the judges say:

This was, of course, after the worst start of my career, where, at 20 seconds to go, the Enterprise was doing Warp 0.8 in an area of zero breeze at about 7,000 boat lengths from the line.

Add to that some slow tacks and trying to find pockets of pressure while trying to avoid big currents, and our performance was so heartbreakingly sad that I expect Adele to write a song about it anyday now.

We did, however, discover the magical four words to better performance downwind:
Do. Not. Distract. Richard.

As we headed back in, the shuttle pilot (launch driver) mentioned that Lt. Kurt was on the dock at 7:00pm looking for us. Sorry, Kurt. We waited as long as we could.

With a third of the season behind us, I think it may be time to do some further training to increase crew performance. It may also be time to move some people around to positions they may be better suited to doing. Hmmmmm.