I have NOT taken up tennis...

...But there are DARK TRUTHS that must be confronted, and tales to tell. I have lost my story-telling MoJo so for now these stories ride and sail with me.

Commodore Hazard enjoys the deep pleasures in his mug

SMALL REACH REGATTA 2016!

After a year of self-imposed exile, Sea Pearl SCOUT and Cap'n Callsign sail in hard and fast to Brooklin, Maine for another exciting...

SMALL REACH REGATTA

THE ONE

THE ONLY

Hark! The skies open with glorious sounds of boats, small boats, fun boats, sail boats and rowboats!

MRS MUMBLES came too, which was nice.  So dependable, this MRS MUMBLES.

DAY minus-ONE

DAY ONE

Cap'n Jon sets up the bling on INDIGO while Chef Juan duckpunts by in
world-famous SAISON DuPUNT!

Cap'n The Angry-Teuton sails by with his not-so-angry wife in D'COCONUT,
a take-apart CLC Passagemaker. First build, beautiful build. I hope they build more!
Note Duckpunt HALF-TIDE! Ooooohh, how many duckpunts are here?

SO much awesome going on in this most awesome picture

MAINE LIFE

THREE! COUNT 'EM! THREE DUCKPUNTS!
(Notice that Commodore Hazard is regretting his initial resistance to building such craft,
"Golly Gosh Darn It! He is saying to himself as we leave him behind.)

YOU GUESSED RIGHT INTREPID READER!
"ThRRee! ThRRee duckpunts! AH AH AH AH" 

The three duckpunts on expedition!
MRS MUMBLES, HALF-TIDE, and SAISON DuPUNT
Love it! YES!
(Selfie by Cap'n Jon)

 
DAY TWO

Pete Culler designed Kingston Lobster Boat

VIKINGS ARE NEVER LOST

Yet again, the Caledonia Yawls are the fastest boats, along with the Sea Pearls and Coquinas.
NEDD LUDD, MABU (cheating with staysail), and MOLLY a Paul LaBrie peapod which
was quite speedy with the new rig.  Good sailing!

Melonseed RIVUS, one of the most beautiful executions. Also, quite speedy.

YES! FUNKY-FUNK ANDREW returns to GIS Amateur Style!
This year, sporting sporty topsail! What a lady-killer this boat is!

SAUSAGE BRIAN how we missed thee dear pork loving friend!
How my heart pitters and patters at
the splitter spatter of your sausages
frying off the transom,
I smell the fat from here
and swoon in your arms,
revive me with fermented malts.


(how awkward!)

Cap'n Jon and INDIGO sails to the thunderheads
looking for adventure
and safe harbor
wing and wing

Dragging the leg so we can catch up and talk and...
...WOAH! LOVELY WIFE SIGHTING IN THE BOW!
A rare moment for GIS Amateur Style! She is an elusive creature,
often not seen in such an alien environment.

 DAY THREE

I awake in SCOUT to a world surrounded by fog and deep thoughts
I love sleeping in my boat.

Later...

Cap'n Jon decided to take over Half-Tide Rock in the harbor.  The other duckpunts follow his lead.
We quickly colonize the rock and declare ownership, kick out the natives, and impose taxes
on any new settlers. 

Funky-Funk Andrew rows quickly in and takes the Half-Tide rock back for England,
For Queen, For Glory,For Empire, etc etc etc
and then he promptly gets attacked by...

...The native bloodthirsty barnacles who are completely opposed to autocratic English rule.
(remember SRR 2014?)

Chef Juan examines the wound and declares it fetid. We fetch for leaches and rum.

Funky-Funk Andrew decides HE TOO needs a duckpunt while Commodore Hazard avoids
the local taxes and stays offshore in SLIFPER

OH NO, a Coquina battle row-off!

John Gardner 16' Swampscott Dory

DAY FOUR

I had to leave a day early, so there was a day four and five, but I wasn't present.

Just imagine.

Sun and sand and sea and stars. And lobster.

Must've been nice!

The SLOGFEST at Lake Champlain

AHHHOOY YOU CRAZY INTREPID READERS, YOU!

I return SO FASTLY from the last post, with yet another GIS Amateur Style-blog cruisefest! It's like we are on the fire with crazy-quick back-to-back cruising, and probably an epic post coming up next week too! What's going on around here?!

To recap, a few weeks ago the NNECS crew went out and beat the pants of Casco Bay and ate lobster products and got rained on.  Obviously you know this because you already read about this great adventure here and you're an Official Intrepid Reader vying for Free Parking!

This week, Chef Juan and I decided to go beat around Lake Champlain! Back we went, back, into the hinterland deep in the mountains, where there is a lake bathed in the golden light of an Adirondack sun, crowned by mountains and sung of by the poets. She is the olde western frontier, the edge of the known colonial world.  At one time, Lake Champlain was THE highway and avenue to get products, goods, and people into the mid-west.  This body of water not only anchors the incredible Champlain Valley, it also was highly contested battlefield from the French-Indian war until the War of 1812.  So many American war dead repose in her waters.  Quiet lake, loud history.

DAY 1: BLUEISH
DAY 2: REDISH

 Little did I know what that crazy-man Chef Juan had in mind for me! Ghosting, rowing, more rowing, rowing, and then a 14 hour sailing SLOGFEST OF DOOM which I care not to repeat.  I like to stop and see things and eat food and drink water and walk around a bit.  Maybe pee too, I like peeing.  This is Vermont, sure, no lobster shacks, but what about an ice-cream stand or two? Anything?

NO! FOURTEEN hours on my boat is just TOO MUCH. I bow, I scrape the ground with my nose, I capitulate, I revoke my status of Sailor-Lord-King in front of Chef Juan the muscle-endurance power of NNECS.

All hail.
HAIL.

Chef Juan flexes his Sinewy Muscles of Kitchendom and he:

1. Takes the day in his hands
2. BREAKS IT OVER HIS KNEE
3. AND THEN HE CRUSHES IT.

DAY 1

I show up late for dramatic effect and we hustle to get going.  The forecast called for 10-13 out of the north, and the drive testified that the landmass was experiencing such nice wind, but the lake was experience feeble breezing out of the south and it ended up dying in a catastrophic fashion.  We snuck our way north to Knight Island, with much ponderous rowing.

The Ghosting Begins

Ghost ghost ghost, ghosting along... OOOoooOOOoooo spooky ghosts

The Adirondacks of my distant far-gone long ago dreams. They weigh heavily on me.

Telltales are my obsession. Looks calm ahead, someone should warn me!
(Chef Juan took this picture)

Dragging feet for hot feet makes feet happy.
(Chef Juan took this picture)

CHEF JUAN rows into the Oblivion Blue if that's what it will take, dammit!
I can see him snickering at me from here.
"Teeheehee," he snickers as he rows.

I row my steed through the heart of the painted New England landscape.
(Chef Juan took this picture)

We gather for dinner. It is late. As usual, boat camping mandates CHAOS! 
I am glad to report I still camp like a messy hoarder you see on those TV shows.

Chef opens his world famous ILUR-based restaurant:
CHEZ CHEF JUAN-on-WAXWING.  (Think some of those Hudson River town names.)
I helped as sous-chef and managed to NOT drop dinner into the bilges.

Near the end of the blue hour, we settle down for some well deserved sleep.

Chef Juan took this picture

DAY 2

Chef Juan rows into Knight Island to have a gander. It's early, around 700am.

I row in as well, to look upon the ocean of calm.
I also leave a deposit in a convenient out-house for the gods of wind.
Poseidon, hear my smelly call!
I will not step on land again until I am an old broken man this evening. 
Little did I know at the time, the world seemed so green and good.

After much fruitless, pointless, desperate tacking to windward to round North Hero, we run out of time and give up on the larger goal of rounding both North-Hero and Grand Isle and turn around for The Gut, between the Isles... We will circumnavigate Grande Isle instead of both.
Brilliant idea!

We make vehicular traffic stop for NNECS!
Entering The Gut between Grande Isle and North Hero,
the the west side of the island, where we will head south.

FINALLY  in the gut we get a lunch stop.  I down three pieces of Chez-Chef-Juan's wife's chicken and then jumped onto these items which are supposed to be brownies, but are apparently 
DOUBLE-DOGGIE-DEATH PILLS or something to that effect.  WOW.  Unreal.  Chef Juan's wife for PREZ! WOW. I stole some and at them for breakfast the next day!

America is land of the plastic, reversed-sheer, disaster boat.  Someone-- somehow, someway--escaped assimilation and was able to stash a little peapod-ish row boat for use! Imagine!  How deviant. I sneak in for a closer look before the capitalists come get me and foist something big loud and ugly upon me! Who is this mystery owner of this reasonable boat? 
Why does it not have speakers?
Why is it not covered in glitter?

Downwind the west side of Grande Isle

Passing the Cumberland Head - Grande Isle Ferry
Still heading south.

STILL GOING 

STILL GOING DOWN THE WEST SIDE
"This is a big island!" I start thinking. "We should have started to do this sooner."
Also, hero wing-and-wing shot by Chef Juan

Finally around the southern end of Grande Isle and Camel's Hump swings into view!
Check yer Vermont quarters! Ooooh get me off this boat! It's 730pm!
Still an hour to go! Look! The Moon!

Just to top off a great day, we have to beat 2 miles to windward to get back to the ramp.
It was hard fought beating, but with no current, which was actually nice.
I was BUSHED. Here, Chef Juan drives north with Whiteface Mountain framing his sails.

This is a ho-hum picture, but I LOVE how this sail is setting, close-hauled to the wind.
It's a Dabbler sail, and you can see the professionalism in how it is built.  
This rig is just set perfectly and the sail is cut just so and it's working hard for Chef Juan.  
A real nice job here, beautiful in it's utilitarianism. 

Revenge.

ANOTHER NNECS VICTORY! GRANDE ISLE!