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[bolger] Re: Don't Try This At Home...

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  • david@crumblingempire.com
    Chuck -- I would be honored to be featured on your Web site! As it happens, I spend most of my time (when not sailing/rowing/building boats, surfing, or
    Message 1 of 4 , Oct 4, 1999
    • 0 Attachment
      Chuck --

      I would be honored to be featured on your Web site! As it happens, I
      spend most of my time (when not sailing/rowing/building boats, surfing,
      or fishing) working for my wife's Web development shop.
      (www.aardvarkelectric.com)

      She got her start when she put up a site devoted to her passion,
      gargoyles (www.aardvarkelectric.com/gargoyle) As a result of her talent
      and hard work, I am able to spend way to much time getting into trouble
      in the waters around Montauk.

      Lemme give the copy a once-over for style, spelling. Even my writing
      benefits from a good edit ;-)

      Thanks again for your flattering offer!

      David



      "chuck leinweber" <duckwork-@...> wrote:
      original article:http://www.egroups.com/group/bolger/?start=424
      > David:
      >
      > You probably don't know me, my name is Chuck Leinweber. I am a
      subscriber
      > to the Bolger newsgroup where you posted this letter. I run a minor
      web
      > page called Duckworks Magazine. I am always looking for material,
      and I
      > have to tell you this letter really caught my eye. This is really
      good
      > writing. I would like, with your permission, to reprint it as a
      feature
      > article in Duckworks Magazine. I can't offer you any money, only the
      > satisfaction of sharing your story with other boat builders.
      >
      > Check out the website: http://www.hilconet.com/~dworksmg/ and let
      me know
      > what you think
      >
      > Thanks for your time.
      >
      > Chuck Leinweber
      >
      >
      >
      > > Bolger Boat Builders --
      > >
      > > I've been launching my teal, "lil' winnie" off the beach at Ditch
      > > Plains in Montauk, NY and rowing or sailing out about 300 yards to
      > > chase after bonito, also called "false albacore." I actually caught
      one
      > > of these inshore mini-tunas, and the ensuing 15 minute struggle to
      boat
      > > the thing made me feel a little like the old man and the sea.
      > >
      > > It also made me want to catch more of them.
      > >
      > > Unfortunately, shortly after my first catch, the fish stopped
      biting,
      > > and no matter what I trolled up and down the beach, they ignored my
      > > offering. All around me there were dozens of these beautiful fish
      > > jumping and rolling, but for two days straight my rod remained
      unbent.
      > >
      > > So October 1, after a morning of lots of fishing and no catching, I
      > > rowed back to shore, and drove home to get my sailing rig. A
      foolhardy
      > > plan was taking shape in my brain.
      > >
      > > When I got home I told my wife she had to drive me back down to
      Ditch
      > > Plains, and that she should expect a call from the Montauk Point
      > > concession stand (6 miles from of Ditch Plains,) beach in about 4-5
      > > hours. I also quizzed her on a proper description of lil' winnie and
      > > told her if she didn't her from my after 5 hours, it might be a good
      > > idea to grow concerned.
      > >
      > > Once back at the beach, a small crowd gathered as I rigged the sail
      on
      > > the hull. I didn't dare tell them of my plan, lest my day end in
      chorus
      > > of "I told you so's." The whole thing almost ended right there as
      the
      > > boat drifted perilously close to the surf-washed jetty while I
      struggle
      > > to get the rudder in place.
      > >
      > > But, a couple of quick tacks and I was clear of the rocks. Another
      > > couple of minutes and I was well outside, falling off the wind (out
      of
      > > the SSW) for an easy reach to the point.
      > >
      > > I was a BEAUTIFUL day. October was announcing its perfection in
      every
      > > way. Sky blue, water warm, wind fair, crowds thin, fish swimming all
      > > around me. I settled in, put our my line and hoped (but not too
      much,)
      > > that a fish might change its mind about honoring my offering.
      > >
      > > Now most people think the beach at Ditch Plains faces South -- it
      > > doesn't, it's more Southsoutheast. And the further East you go, the
      > > more the land bends to the North. While my initial course (East)
      was a
      > > comfortable relationship of swell and wind, it was also taking me
      > > further away from the land with every passing minute. My plan was to
      > > hold this course until I had cleared the point, then jibe and come
      back
      > > Westnorthwest on another reach. What I didn't want to do was spend a
      > > lot of time running before the wind and swell, where my little boat
      > > felt vulnerable to an unplanned, (and uncontrolled) jibe, broach,
      and
      > > ultimately, sinking. (She's a fine little craft, but alas, negative
      > > buoyancy when swamped.)
      > >
      > > I held to this plan until I was about due South of the Candle, at
      which
      > > point a quick recalculation told me that a was going to have to
      round
      > > Block Island to get far enough East of the point for a comfortable
      > > reach back to the West. Not entirely comfortable with the thought of
      > > being 10 miles out at sea in a 12 foot, flat-bottomed craft,
      sporting a
      > > wopping 16 inches of freeboard, I pulled the tiller to weather, let
      out
      > > the sheet, and began my run past the point, a fine swell at my
      stern.
      > >
      > > You'd be amazed how little it takes to get a boat on plane when
      you're
      > > running before a good swell. You'd also be amazed how unpleasant the
      > > normal pleasant sensation of surfing can be when you've got the
      "wrong
      > > board for the conditions."
      > >
      > > Lil' winnie charged down the face of the swells, and threatened to
      go
      > > straight for the bottom, except I was crouched all the way in the
      > > stern, trying to keep her bow up. Of course, since she's a
      > > double-ender, there was no room for me and the tiller, so I had
      almost
      > > no steerage. We plowed forward and I hoped that what little bit of
      helm
      > > I had could keep her from veering off into some sort of deadly
      broach
      > > and/or jibe.
      > >
      > > Finally we were north of the point and I coaxed her through a
      somewhat
      > > controlled jibe, pulled to weather and began an easy reach toward
      false
      > > point. Since the whole run had only taken about an hour, I decided
      to
      > > try and beat the tide and press on to Montauk Harbor, and ultimately
      > > South Lake Beach.
      > >
      > > By now the wind was stronger, and since it was coming off the land,
      > > gustier too. But other than a little more jumping on the rail now
      and
      > > then, the reach to Shagwong was uneventful. I knew that past
      Shagwong I
      > > was going to be close to the wind, and against the tide as well.
      But,
      > > since it was only a mile and a half from Shagwong to the harbor, I
      > > wasn't too worried.
      > >
      > > I should have been.
      > >
      > > As I rounded Shagwong, I hit the full force of the outgoing tide. In
      > > addition to that, I had the chop from the wind coming out of the SSW
      > > and a swell coming up the sound from astern. All this made for a
      > > confused sea that did not favor my flat-bootomed, plumb-sided hull.
      In
      > > addition, the wind was now even gustier -- I was alternating between
      > > nearly being knocked down by the wind, or rolling her over to
      weather
      > > from not getting off the rail fast enough. And worst of all, I
      wasn't
      > > making any headway against the tide. As time slipped by and the
      jetty
      > > drew no close, I had visions of a coasty helicopter circling
      overhead
      > > because I had failed to show up at the concession stand (now 3 miles
      > > behind me.)
      > >
      > > Now there's nothing I value more than the chance to make a REALLY
      bad
      > > choice, see just how bad that choice is, and somehow walk away
      scared,
      > > unscathed, and a little wiser, and my frustration at my lack of
      headway
      > > was offering me just such a chance.
      > >
      > > I reasoned that the wind was so gusty because I was just a few dozen
      > > yards offshore, and that if I went further offshore, I would find
      clear
      > > air, and in that clear air I could set and hold a stead course. I
      fell
      > > of the wind and headed out into the sound.
      > >
      > > I did find clear air and plenty of it. I also found wind over tide
      over
      > > swell. I was high on the rail, with the sail half-luffed, trying to
      > > keep winnie from burying her lee gunwale as she pounded through the
      > > confused seas. Then all hell broke loose, or more specifically, my
      > > mainsheet.
      > >
      > > I had never really worked out a satisfactory way to attached the
      block
      > > to the boom, and now, in the midst of all the pounding, my "system"
      > > showed just how deficient it really was. The boat rolled violently
      to
      > > weather as the boom swung to lee. Without the stability of wind on
      the
      > > sail, she rocked from rail to rail, threatening to swamp. I tried to
      > > deploy the oars to get her pointed into the wind, and nearly threw
      both
      > > of them overboard. Panic set in as my brain issued and then
      > > countermanded a series of wildly errant and potentially disastrous
      > > orders. I was sinking and the wind was blowing me toward Rhode
      Island.
      > > Finally a voice cut through the chaos.
      > >
      > > "The boat is still afloat, she's not taking water. Don't do
      anything to
      > > make things worse."
      > >
      > > I obeyed. Crouching low, on my hands and knees in the middle of the
      > > boat, I held perfectly still and I obeyed.
      > >
      > > "Good. Now, without dropping them overboard, use the oars to get the
      > > bow into the wind."
      > >
      > > Ever so gingerly I slid the blades into the water and began to turn
      her
      > > windward. With the confused sea this was less than easy and I knew I
      > > couldn't get back to shore without regaining control of the sail. I
      > > held her steady with the oars and examined the damage. Reattaching
      the
      > > block wasn't an option, so I looped the sheet over the boom, shipped
      > > the oars, hardened the sheet, and made for land.
      > >
      > > As I beat back toward the beach, I saw just how futile my efforts
      had
      > > been. Aside from heading toward the beach at a nice clip, the tide
      was
      > > taking me down the sound at amazing speed. However, the pace slacked
      > > noticeably as I neared shore. When I got about 40 yards out, I put
      the
      > > tiller over and began beating back up the beach. The wind was still
      > > quite qusty, but I was making steady progress to the West. After
      about
      > > an hour I was in front of Gin Beach. I had to swing away from the
      beach
      > > to make the harbor, but as soon as the the West jetty came abeam, I
      > > tacked, and made for sheltered water. Now all that remained between
      me
      > > completion of the journey was an easy reach across the lake in a
      brisk
      > > wind.
      > >
      > > Normally this would be the part of the story where everything comes
      > > apart, I lose my boat, and finish the day a little older, a little
      > > poorer and a lot wiser. Well, the rudder did jump out of the
      gudgeons
      > > (all that pounding must have worked it up and out,) and if that had
      > > happened in the sound, I would have been done for. But as it
      happened,
      > > I was right next to a marina, in flat water, and I popped right
      back in.
      > >
      > > The reach across the lake was triumphant! In a fresh breeze and flat
      > > water, lil winnie sailed across the water at a fine clip. I sat on
      the
      > > rail the whole way, scared and smug and happy.
      > >
      > > With a quarter borrowed from a drunken fisherman I phoned my wife,
      "I'm
      > > at South Lake, can you come pick me up?" I was an hour late and five
      > > miles from our designated rendezvous.
      > >
      > > Nonplussed she answered "Glad you called, I was just about to start
      > > worrying."
      > >
      > > Hoping your sailing is less "thrilling" but just as satisfying,
      > >
      > > David
      > >
      > >
    • Chuck Leinweber
      Thanks, David, I will reply to your home address as I meant to do with this letter. My apologies to the group for taking up it s time with personal business.
      Message 2 of 4 , Oct 4, 1999
      • 0 Attachment
        Thanks, David, I will reply to your home address as I meant to do with this
        letter. My apologies to the group for taking up it's time with personal
        business. I would just add this: I am always open to contributions by boat
        builders of stories or pictures for Duckworks Magazine.

        Chuck

        >
        > I would be honored to be featured on your Web site! As it happens, I
        > spend most of my time (when not sailing/rowing/building boats, surfing,
        > or fishing) working for my wife's Web development shop.
        > (www.aardvarkelectric.com)
        >
        > She got her start when she put up a site devoted to her passion,
        > gargoyles (www.aardvarkelectric.com/gargoyle) As a result of her talent
        > and hard work, I am able to spend way to much time getting into trouble
        > in the waters around Montauk.
        >
        > Lemme give the copy a once-over for style, spelling. Even my writing
        > benefits from a good edit ;-)
        >
        > Thanks again for your flattering offer!
        >
        > David
        >
        >
        >
        > "chuck leinweber" <duckwork-@...> wrote:
        > original article:http://www.egroups.com/group/bolger/?start=424
        > > David:
        > >
        > > You probably don't know me, my name is Chuck Leinweber. I am a
        > subscriber
        > > to the Bolger newsgroup where you posted this letter. I run a minor
        > web
        > > page called Duckworks Magazine. I am always looking for material,
        > and I
        > > have to tell you this letter really caught my eye. This is really
        > good
        > > writing. I would like, with your permission, to reprint it as a
        > feature
        > > article in Duckworks Magazine. I can't offer you any money, only the
        > > satisfaction of sharing your story with other boat builders.
        > >
        > > Check out the website: http://www.hilconet.com/~dworksmg/ and let
        > me know
        > > what you think
        > >
        > > Thanks for your time.
        > >
        > > Chuck Leinweber
        > >
        > >
        > >
        > > > Bolger Boat Builders --
        > > >
        > > > I've been launching my teal, "lil' winnie" off the beach at Ditch
        > > > Plains in Montauk, NY and rowing or sailing out about 300 yards to
        > > > chase after bonito, also called "false albacore." I actually caught
        > one
        > > > of these inshore mini-tunas, and the ensuing 15 minute struggle to
        > boat
        > > > the thing made me feel a little like the old man and the sea.
        > > >
        > > > It also made me want to catch more of them.
        > > >
        > > > Unfortunately, shortly after my first catch, the fish stopped
        > biting,
        > > > and no matter what I trolled up and down the beach, they ignored my
        > > > offering. All around me there were dozens of these beautiful fish
        > > > jumping and rolling, but for two days straight my rod remained
        > unbent.
        > > >
        > > > So October 1, after a morning of lots of fishing and no catching, I
        > > > rowed back to shore, and drove home to get my sailing rig. A
        > foolhardy
        > > > plan was taking shape in my brain.
        > > >
        > > > When I got home I told my wife she had to drive me back down to
        > Ditch
        > > > Plains, and that she should expect a call from the Montauk Point
        > > > concession stand (6 miles from of Ditch Plains,) beach in about 4-5
        > > > hours. I also quizzed her on a proper description of lil' winnie and
        > > > told her if she didn't her from my after 5 hours, it might be a good
        > > > idea to grow concerned.
        > > >
        > > > Once back at the beach, a small crowd gathered as I rigged the sail
        > on
        > > > the hull. I didn't dare tell them of my plan, lest my day end in
        > chorus
        > > > of "I told you so's." The whole thing almost ended right there as
        > the
        > > > boat drifted perilously close to the surf-washed jetty while I
        > struggle
        > > > to get the rudder in place.
        > > >
        > > > But, a couple of quick tacks and I was clear of the rocks. Another
        > > > couple of minutes and I was well outside, falling off the wind (out
        > of
        > > > the SSW) for an easy reach to the point.
        > > >
        > > > I was a BEAUTIFUL day. October was announcing its perfection in
        > every
        > > > way. Sky blue, water warm, wind fair, crowds thin, fish swimming all
        > > > around me. I settled in, put our my line and hoped (but not too
        > much,)
        > > > that a fish might change its mind about honoring my offering.
        > > >
        > > > Now most people think the beach at Ditch Plains faces South -- it
        > > > doesn't, it's more Southsoutheast. And the further East you go, the
        > > > more the land bends to the North. While my initial course (East)
        > was a
        > > > comfortable relationship of swell and wind, it was also taking me
        > > > further away from the land with every passing minute. My plan was to
        > > > hold this course until I had cleared the point, then jibe and come
        > back
        > > > Westnorthwest on another reach. What I didn't want to do was spend a
        > > > lot of time running before the wind and swell, where my little boat
        > > > felt vulnerable to an unplanned, (and uncontrolled) jibe, broach,
        > and
        > > > ultimately, sinking. (She's a fine little craft, but alas, negative
        > > > buoyancy when swamped.)
        > > >
        > > > I held to this plan until I was about due South of the Candle, at
        > which
        > > > point a quick recalculation told me that a was going to have to
        > round
        > > > Block Island to get far enough East of the point for a comfortable
        > > > reach back to the West. Not entirely comfortable with the thought of
        > > > being 10 miles out at sea in a 12 foot, flat-bottomed craft,
        > sporting a
        > > > wopping 16 inches of freeboard, I pulled the tiller to weather, let
        > out
        > > > the sheet, and began my run past the point, a fine swell at my
        > stern.
        > > >
        > > > You'd be amazed how little it takes to get a boat on plane when
        > you're
        > > > running before a good swell. You'd also be amazed how unpleasant the
        > > > normal pleasant sensation of surfing can be when you've got the
        > "wrong
        > > > board for the conditions."
        > > >
        > > > Lil' winnie charged down the face of the swells, and threatened to
        > go
        > > > straight for the bottom, except I was crouched all the way in the
        > > > stern, trying to keep her bow up. Of course, since she's a
        > > > double-ender, there was no room for me and the tiller, so I had
        > almost
        > > > no steerage. We plowed forward and I hoped that what little bit of
        > helm
        > > > I had could keep her from veering off into some sort of deadly
        > broach
        > > > and/or jibe.
        > > >
        > > > Finally we were north of the point and I coaxed her through a
        > somewhat
        > > > controlled jibe, pulled to weather and began an easy reach toward
        > false
        > > > point. Since the whole run had only taken about an hour, I decided
        > to
        > > > try and beat the tide and press on to Montauk Harbor, and ultimately
        > > > South Lake Beach.
        > > >
        > > > By now the wind was stronger, and since it was coming off the land,
        > > > gustier too. But other than a little more jumping on the rail now
        > and
        > > > then, the reach to Shagwong was uneventful. I knew that past
        > Shagwong I
        > > > was going to be close to the wind, and against the tide as well.
        > But,
        > > > since it was only a mile and a half from Shagwong to the harbor, I
        > > > wasn't too worried.
        > > >
        > > > I should have been.
        > > >
        > > > As I rounded Shagwong, I hit the full force of the outgoing tide. In
        > > > addition to that, I had the chop from the wind coming out of the SSW
        > > > and a swell coming up the sound from astern. All this made for a
        > > > confused sea that did not favor my flat-bootomed, plumb-sided hull.
        > In
        > > > addition, the wind was now even gustier -- I was alternating between
        > > > nearly being knocked down by the wind, or rolling her over to
        > weather
        > > > from not getting off the rail fast enough. And worst of all, I
        > wasn't
        > > > making any headway against the tide. As time slipped by and the
        > jetty
        > > > drew no close, I had visions of a coasty helicopter circling
        > overhead
        > > > because I had failed to show up at the concession stand (now 3 miles
        > > > behind me.)
        > > >
        > > > Now there's nothing I value more than the chance to make a REALLY
        > bad
        > > > choice, see just how bad that choice is, and somehow walk away
        > scared,
        > > > unscathed, and a little wiser, and my frustration at my lack of
        > headway
        > > > was offering me just such a chance.
        > > >
        > > > I reasoned that the wind was so gusty because I was just a few dozen
        > > > yards offshore, and that if I went further offshore, I would find
        > clear
        > > > air, and in that clear air I could set and hold a stead course. I
        > fell
        > > > of the wind and headed out into the sound.
        > > >
        > > > I did find clear air and plenty of it. I also found wind over tide
        > over
        > > > swell. I was high on the rail, with the sail half-luffed, trying to
        > > > keep winnie from burying her lee gunwale as she pounded through the
        > > > confused seas. Then all hell broke loose, or more specifically, my
        > > > mainsheet.
        > > >
        > > > I had never really worked out a satisfactory way to attached the
        > block
        > > > to the boom, and now, in the midst of all the pounding, my "system"
        > > > showed just how deficient it really was. The boat rolled violently
        > to
        > > > weather as the boom swung to lee. Without the stability of wind on
        > the
        > > > sail, she rocked from rail to rail, threatening to swamp. I tried to
        > > > deploy the oars to get her pointed into the wind, and nearly threw
        > both
        > > > of them overboard. Panic set in as my brain issued and then
        > > > countermanded a series of wildly errant and potentially disastrous
        > > > orders. I was sinking and the wind was blowing me toward Rhode
        > Island.
        > > > Finally a voice cut through the chaos.
        > > >
        > > > "The boat is still afloat, she's not taking water. Don't do
        > anything to
        > > > make things worse."
        > > >
        > > > I obeyed. Crouching low, on my hands and knees in the middle of the
        > > > boat, I held perfectly still and I obeyed.
        > > >
        > > > "Good. Now, without dropping them overboard, use the oars to get the
        > > > bow into the wind."
        > > >
        > > > Ever so gingerly I slid the blades into the water and began to turn
        > her
        > > > windward. With the confused sea this was less than easy and I knew I
        > > > couldn't get back to shore without regaining control of the sail. I
        > > > held her steady with the oars and examined the damage. Reattaching
        > the
        > > > block wasn't an option, so I looped the sheet over the boom, shipped
        > > > the oars, hardened the sheet, and made for land.
        > > >
        > > > As I beat back toward the beach, I saw just how futile my efforts
        > had
        > > > been. Aside from heading toward the beach at a nice clip, the tide
        > was
        > > > taking me down the sound at amazing speed. However, the pace slacked
        > > > noticeably as I neared shore. When I got about 40 yards out, I put
        > the
        > > > tiller over and began beating back up the beach. The wind was still
        > > > quite qusty, but I was making steady progress to the West. After
        > about
        > > > an hour I was in front of Gin Beach. I had to swing away from the
        > beach
        > > > to make the harbor, but as soon as the the West jetty came abeam, I
        > > > tacked, and made for sheltered water. Now all that remained between
        > me
        > > > completion of the journey was an easy reach across the lake in a
        > brisk
        > > > wind.
        > > >
        > > > Normally this would be the part of the story where everything comes
        > > > apart, I lose my boat, and finish the day a little older, a little
        > > > poorer and a lot wiser. Well, the rudder did jump out of the
        > gudgeons
        > > > (all that pounding must have worked it up and out,) and if that had
        > > > happened in the sound, I would have been done for. But as it
        > happened,
        > > > I was right next to a marina, in flat water, and I popped right
        > back in.
        > > >
        > > > The reach across the lake was triumphant! In a fresh breeze and flat
        > > > water, lil winnie sailed across the water at a fine clip. I sat on
        > the
        > > > rail the whole way, scared and smug and happy.
        > > >
        > > > With a quarter borrowed from a drunken fisherman I phoned my wife,
        > "I'm
        > > > at South Lake, can you come pick me up?" I was an hour late and five
        > > > miles from our designated rendezvous.
        > > >
        > > > Nonplussed she answered "Glad you called, I was just about to start
        > > > worrying."
        > > >
        > > > Hoping your sailing is less "thrilling" but just as satisfying,
        > > >
        > > > David
        > > >
        > > >
        >
        >
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