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In this issue:
- Upcoming Events
- CSC News Flash
- Incident at the Fuel Dock
- CSC Rodeo Wrap-Up
- Pomp and Circumstance
- Truth or Fairy Tale: the Clubhouse Project
- Blending In
- Crusty's Corner
- Contacting the Editor: need work hours?
Upcoming Events at Cal Sailing Club
Clinics and Workshops are open to all current CSC members. Send your ideas for future clinics and workshops to the [rear_commodore@cal-sailing.org]. Watch for notices posted on the CSC email discussion list and at the clubhouse for details on all upcoming events at CSC.
Visit the events calendar on the CSC website for descriptions of the events listed below.
- October 4 Advanced Dinghy Clinic, Part I with David Elias. 12:30-6:30pm, advance sign-up required, contact David at [delias@gs510.com].
- October 5 OPEN HOUSE, 1 - 4 pm
- October 5 Advanced Dinghy Clinic, Part II with David Elias. 4:30-6:30pm, advance sign-up required, contact David at [delias@gs510.com].
- October 5 ExComm meeting. 6:30pm at the clubhouse, open to all members.
- October 7 Advanced Dinghy Clinic, Part III with David Elias. 5:15-7:15pm, advance sign-up required, contact David at [delias@gs510.com].
- October 10 Full moon cruise to Clipper Cove. Raft-up and potluck dinner. Skippers Sypko Andreae and Kent Moriarty. 4:30 pm, advance signup required.
- October 11 Motoring Workshop, with Sypko Andreae. 1:30pm at J-Dock. Open to Jr Skippers, advance sign-up required, contact Sypko at [sypko@earthlink.net].
- October 12 Basic Dinghy Repair Workshop, with Matthias Roschke. 2pm in the boatyard, open to all members.
- October 19 OPEN HOUSE, 1 - 4 pm
- October 19 ExComm meeting. 6:30pm at the clubhouse, open to all members.
- October 26 Daylight Saving Time ends.
- October 26 Knots workshop, with Sallie Lang. Time TBA, open to all members.
- November 2 OPEN HOUSE, 1 - 4 pm
- November 2 ExComm meeting. 6:30pm at the clubhouse. Open to all members.
- November 6 GENERAL MEMBERSHIP MEETING. 7pm at the Berkeley Yacht Club, 1 Seawall Dr. at the Berkeley Marina (next to "O" Dock). Free, delicious dinner and dessert and a no host bar will be on tap along with election of club officers and other agenda items to be announced.
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October 9, 1:00 pm-5:00 pm
October 23, 1:00 pm-3:45 pm
Do you miss out on workshops or cruise sign-ups because you learned about them too late? Join our listserve, an email discussion list, for announcements about club activities, lessons, and work hours. To subscribe send a blank message to [cal-sailing-subscribe@yahoogroups.com]
CSC News Flash
H2O Photos at CSC
H2Ophotos, founded by club member David Anstice, is pleased to announce a special opportunity for CSC. Starting in November, members will be able to purchase high quality action photos of their windsurfing and sailing activities. Visit www.H2Ophotos.com for details.
Special Discounts for CSC Members
Okay, everyone knows that CSC membership is an amazing deal because you can learn to sail or windsurf for only $50. Well the truth is that if you take advantage of one of the many discount offers below, your membership pays for itself in a huge way. As a CSC member you can purchase some amazing merchandise for as little as 14% of the retail price. So what are you waiting for? Treat yourself to some good gear at the end of the season. Buy holiday gifts for family and friends. But act quickly because quantities are limited. Contact Jane or Saul at [cscxtras@yahoo.com] to place your order. There is a $3 handling fee for each item and orders must be prepaid by check or cash.
Cal Sailing Club sincerely thanks each of our sponsors for these generous discounts:
DOUGLAS GILL www.gillna.com foul weather gear, fleeces, boots, and more. The latest closeout deals from Douglas Gill are hot off the press. Review the price list posted at the clubhouse.
AQUATA www.aquatausa.com is offering amazing deals on their own labels and special deals from Magic Marine. Sale items include life jackets, sailing pants, sailing gloves, harnesses, bags, boots, rash guards, and sailing outwear of all types. Review the price list posted at the clubhouse.
O'NEILL www.oneill.com wetsuits and accessories can be purchased at special prices.
SVENDSEN'S www.svendsens.com/store All current card holding members continue to get wholesale discount on all purchases at their store situated at 1851 Clement Avenue, Alameda.
BERKELEY BOARDSPORTS http://www.boardsports.com/ All current, card-carrying members get a 10% discount on all cash or check purchases (8% with Visa or MC) at their store situated at 1601 University Ave, Berkeley. Please support them--they supply most of CSC's equipment at wholesale!
Incident at the Fuel Dock by Sypko Andreae
It was the last day of Will Lowe's senior skipper test. On board our Ensign sailboat were Nora and Edwin, a couple who had joined the club only a few hours before, Will Lowe, who was finishing up his senior test with a series of dockings, and finally yours truly on the poop deck, testing Will. Nora and Edwin didn't know much about sailing, which was just what we wanted. At first they had hesitated when invited aboard to participate in Will's test, but then decided to go anyway and very enthusiastically applied themselves to their new tasks. They soon proved to be quick learners. Amazing beginners!
During our dockings I noticed that Edwin had an athletic tendency to leap off the foredeck a bit early during arrivals and leap on a little late during departures, resulting in rather long, but graceful leaps. It looked magnificent, but a little dicey. At the time I forgot to comment on it to either Will or Edwin.
We did one docking after another and finally wound up near the Marina's fuel dock. After a bit of maneuvering to get the correct approach angle Will performed a well controlled docking, while Edwin made yet another early, long and graceful leap for the dock, bowline in hand. I stepped off the stern with the stern line. The wind, still close to 15 knots, came whistling in under an angle of about thirty degrees from the port bow. Under loudly flapping sails Will informed us about his departure decision: Edwin was to step aboard near the shrouds after doing a bow push and I was to pull the stern line to make the boat turn through the eye of the wind.
Everybody ready? Here we go. Edwin pushed the bow off forcefully and I pulled the boat forward with the stern line. The boat turned. This time Edwin was really late getting on board and looked as if he was about to make his longest leap yet. But then he suddenly changed his mind, ran back towards the stern to make his leap for the boat, thus interfering with my plan to elegantly step aboard the stern at the last moment. I could just imagine Edwin colliding with me in mid-air, causing both of us to miss the stern and falling in the water, so I let him leap aboard while I stayed dockside. Edwin scrambled inside the cockpit. His cap got caught in the main sheet and blew overboard. I was left behind on the dock and slowly let go of the stern line. What now?
When the stern was about ten feet away from the dock Will realized what had happened, looked back at me on the dock with a tinge of panic in his eyes and yelled "Aren't you coming?" I raised my hands in mild despair and yelled "Just come back and pick me up, any way you like!"
There went Will, still a junior skipper, sailing away un-rated, with his rating committee member left behind on the dock. An unplanned exercise for sure! The boat quickly picked up speed in a gust of wind, heading for the Berkeley Yacht Club, a very surprised Will at the tiller with his two totally clueless, but very happily excited crew.
There was a motorboat tied to the same fuel dock, about fifty feet upwind from where the Ensign had been. A guy, whom I assumed belonged to the motorboat, came striding down the dock towards me, while laughing and yelling: "Hey, you missed your boat, eh? Isn't that your boat?" I was concentrating on Will, hoping he would make it back all right and was getting a little nervous. "Look," I said, while keeping my eyes glued to Will in the Ensign, "I am really busy right now. Would you mind?" He turned silent and walked back to his motorboat.
Will performed a good docking. Edwin, again, performed one of his amazing leaps ashore. Again I forgot to comment on it. Soon Nora and Edwin stood on the dock, holding lines. Sails flapped loudly, sheets whipped in the air. I picked up the stern line and yelled: "All aboard and let's get out of here." Nora and Edwin, maybe not hearing me due to the noisily flapping jib, looked poised to push the boat off together, as a couple. That was a bit too much of well intended, but unbridled enthusiasm for me. It didn't seem to be the time for another couple of graceful leaps. So I yelled, a little louder: "Nora, Edwin, get on board, now." This time they got it right away, climbed on board, sat down and smiled, pleased as pink. They loved it, their first sailing adventure. So full of excitement!
Will sailed us away downwind, jibed a couple of times and headed for his last docking at the blue flag between the two dreaded Hornblower tour boats, the scene of past misfortune. The docking went fine. Will smoothly departed from between the two Hornblowers in a nasty forty-five degree cross wind from port. He followed it up with a solid final docking at J-dock.
We witnessed one last, much more modest, but very graceful leap ashore by Edwin. Will's senior test was finally complete. He looked very happy, grinning from ear to ear. We folded and flaked the sails and put the boat to bed. Edwin and Nora thanked us profusely for the wonderful experience. They kept repeating how interesting and exciting it all had been. All that within hours of joining up as new members of CSC for just $50. And this was only their first day!
CSC Rodeo Wrap-Up by Sander Caldwell
For the innocent passerby at the south sailing basin last Labor Day, it may have looked like CSC had finally gone over the edge. Sailboats sailed backwards, windsurfers rode boards without sails, and crazed sailors attempted to climb a slippery laser mast. However, these bizarre spectacles were just part of the first-ever CSC Rodeo, a daylong competition for members to demonstrate unusual sailing and windsurfing skills.
The official Rodeo events included a backwards sailing race, capsize race, windsurfing relay, 3-jib race, and balloon roundup. In between races, members could test their skill at climbing the mast of a laser anchored upwind of the dock, attempt to tame the unruly windsurf board bucking bronco, or just kick back at the club house and enjoy the delicious BBQ.
Seasoned sailors, including Dave Cary and Paul Kamen, showed off their boat handling skills and came away with some of the nice prizes generously donated by local marina businesses, including Hs Lordships, Marina DoubleTree, Skates, Office Depot, Berkeley Boardsports, and Chevy's. The Rodeo was a lot of fun to plan and organize and could not have happened without major efforts from Jane and Sypko. Additionally, Bill Prinzmetal (on race committee), Jim Pottenger (on BBQ), and Fred (dayleading) helped make the day a success.
Based on the smiles and chuckles of spectators and participants, the Rodeo was well-received. If anything, it suffered from running too many separate events, instead of concentrating on doing a couple of events repeatedly. Additionally, the windsurfers heeded the call of the wind in the afternoon and left to plane away. I'd like to consider this year's Rodeo as a beta-test and hope that it will happen next year and be even more fun!
Pomp and Circumstance
Break out the champagne from the CSC cellars, we have two new senior skippers this month! Congratulations and we wish them many happy days of keelboat sailing adventures.
Sergio Pacca, Sr. Skipper. If anyone wants to learn how to execute perfect rudderless circles around a buoy, talk to Sergio. Aside from wowing crew members with this skill, Sergio enjoys teaching, fixing boats, helping with the BBQ and most anything else that does not involve looking at a computer.
Leah Teitler, Sr. Skipper. Leah has accomplished a rare feat that many members unsuccessfully attempt each year: she completed all her senior skipper requirements in a single summer. Although she loves hanging out at the club and bench sailing, she vows to make herself get back on the water and avoid true senioritis.
Truth or Fairy Tale: the Clubhouse Project by Tom Wu
Once again fall is upon us. The strong summer wind has eased. A sense of calm slowly reclaims the Cal Sailing Club. Boats and sailboards no longer move with haste. But the diehard members will remain to see the winter through. “There’s work to be done”, they say as they don their elf caps. By next spring, all that was broken will be good as new.
Yet, even the CSC elves can use a hand or two. The clubhouse has seen its’ better days. Will it last through another storm? There is no longer a sense of permanence to this icon of 30 years. With every winter storm the question becomes “Is it still there?”
This year more elves have come to help. A new clubhouse they will build. “Who are these new elves” you ask? They are the senior architectural students of UC Berkeley. And 14 of them there are. These young little elves are more ambitious then most. A new clubhouse they will build in 4 months. “No more time for sleep,” they say. A clubhouse will be built.
Busy they have been. The first week they arrived with cameras and took pictures of our charismatic clubhouse. They had meetings with our chief elves. Lots of notes they took. They grabbed pencils, paper, and measuring tape. Off they went, here, there and everywhere around our little clubhouse. “No time for sleep,” they say, as they disappeared with notes in hand.
Second week came. Now these young elves have pretty drawings with dimensions and color diagrams to show. A powwow was had up on the hill. A friendly discussion took place between all the elves. More notes were taken by the young little elves. “No time for sleep,” they say, as they disappeared with notes in hand.
Third week came. Wow, these young elves have little cardboard models of our new clubhouse in hand. Pretty they were, all 4 of them. One was rectangular. One was square. One was bold. And one just made sense. More discussions were had and cookies were passed around. “No time for sleep,” they say, as they disappeared with notes in hand.
So here we are at the end of September with high hopes of what these young elves will do. A couple more weeks of note taking and they’ll be off with hammers and nails. In their workshop they will work from sun up to sun down until it’s done. Come early December they will be back with a clubhouse on a truck. With a little luck and some help from us, these determined elves will get the job done.
More information about this project is posted at http://www.grin.net/~tomwu/calsailing/web/new_clubhouse_index.htm
Soaked But Not Sorry by Steve Poulin
I came across the Cal Sailing Club while launching my kayak from the Snoopy dock a few years back. The little armada of boats and windsurfers had caught my attention since moving to the East Bay and I finally decided to check it out. It was a weekday afternoon and fairly quiet. I found my way up the steps of the ramshackle clubhouse, a cross between a hot dog stand and a bait and tackle store, and encountered a pair of young men in progressive states of repose and relaxation. I had a lot of questions and these gentlemen considered them carefully, sometimes batting them back and forth to one another with their eyes before giving me one and two word answers. I figured maybe I was getting attitude, hey, maybe I looked like a dot com invader with my t-shirt, REI shorts and Teva's. But I discovered on my subsequent returns to the shack that it was the prevailing sentiment, and God was I happy to have found it.
I shelled out the dough for a membership with my five-month-old son sitting up on that well-worn counter, desperately smiling at the day leader who just as studiously ignored him. Don't get me wrong - these people are nice - very nice- there's just a culture to maintain and they're determined to maintain it. If you don't have a good sun and spray burn around your raccoon eyes and you're not wearing appropriately disheveled wet suit pieces or foul weather gear then you run the risk of standing out, at least during the weekdays.
I wanted everybody to know of course that I considered myself an experienced sailor. I'd lived on Cape Cod, for God's sake, and kept an old McGregor at a mooring in Pleasant Bay. For a few summers in my early twenties I endeavored to live on the thing, and even pushed the creaky centerboard across Nantucket Sound to that old whaling island itself, and down to Martha's Vineyard, too. Later, when I moved to Bellingham WA I borrowed a friend's heavy old US Yacht and I putted around the San Juan Islands for a summer, coming across Rosario Strait in a gale that left my wife at the time sobbing and pretty much convinced that she'd made a bad decision. How to get credibility at the club? Well, I guess I just had to get out there.
I was at my social work job in the City when an early afternoon breeze started picking up so strongly you could barely smell the urine lifting off the South of Market sidewalks. My time had come. I clocked out early and raced over for my first lesson, and it wasn't long before my aforementioned credentials were soaking wet.
I do not possess impressive foul weather gear but I figured with the wind so strong I should heed the advice in the club's literature. And so I arrived at the docks that glorious, sunny, blowing Thursday afternoon, with a Helly Hanson rain jacket from the rack at the Sports Basement, a pair of Royal Robbins water resistant pants that fold into a single pocket, and the old Nikes that I've jogged holes through. Certainly if my footwear didn't give me away as an amateur, than my baseball cap should have, but the day leader sensed my enthusiasm and he sent me scurrying down the dock to catch a sailboat just departing.
Thank God, I thought, I didn't have to rig it! And sure enough, Franco, the other student had done all the hard work and was on his knees fiddling with the boom. Our instructor John (name changed to protect his innocence) was game when I requested permission to board.
"You sailed before?" he asked me, no doubt influenced by the oversized attached life jacket flapping in the wind.
"Lots," I told him.
"Can you back us away from the dock?"
"Sure," I told him.
I was hoping he'd call my bluff, but he didn't, and I initially took this as a vote of confidence although I've come to suppose upon reflection that he probably just figured there wasn't a whole lot to lose, and he'd been bored until the wind picked up.
He left me the helm. He asked if we should reef the main in such a blow and I told him no. Franco appeared completely petrified even in his full-length wetsuit, but he took things in stride, if not complete comfort. We did a few tacks and then it was out into the real water and wind. And that is where that infernal hinged tiller proved my undoing. Steering with that thing is like trying to learn Spanish by studying algebraic equations. Yep. I messed up the most important tack of my twenty minute Cal Club career, we swung downwind for a second too long - the damn wind was trying to rip our ears off, I swear - and a wave crashed over the gunwale and then another and there we sat, the cockpit completely immersed and a fine place for some fishing.
"I'm really sorry," I said. John had hopped onto the bow and was managing to keep his rubber boots dry up there. Franco was looking longingly at the traffic beginning to build on Highway 80. "Should we bail her?" I asked John.
He looked at me incredulously. "What do you think, skipper?" he asked me. And so Franco and I went feverishly at it, me with the paddle, and Franco with the Clorox bottle.
This is what the club is all about. It provides a safe place and the tools to make your life different for a few hours, sometimes disastrous, sometimes spectacular. It teaches you the thin line between the two, and in the process it gives you a place to learn about yourself - the real you, battling the elements, and the you that would rather hide in your head.
I've gotten into windsurfing now. So if you see a guy up on a board with white knuckles, waterlogged Nikes, and a flapping green Helly Hansen rain jacket, I don't care what the rules say, please fall off.
"Big Bore Series"
Here to do God's work, Crusty is searching for a smokable butt, when a honking luxedan bursts open and a powermatron sings him a siren song about a quick twenty to be made.
Halfway across the parking lot, Crusty agrees to don a silly baseball cap and a rainsuit thingy, thereby to masquerade as an erring husband who does not deserve, among other things, to be ferried by said powermatron in said luxedan across the bay to engage in a silly race on a silly sailboat.
Sadly for Crusty, the erring husband's place on said silly sailboat was on a silly little seat downwind of the rest of the crew, and thus he is not ejected before said silly sailboat casts off and glides out into the bay, nipped at by nervous inflatables darting back and forth, shadowed by a large ferry bearing a banner reading (at least to Crusty's eyes) "ORAFiC4saLE" .
Salty types bark questions at Crusty, who nods to indicate that he has the twenty. Fingers are pointed, and Crusty chooses the direction most likely to yield a liquor store.
The wind whips up, and insanely obscure words are shouted as the rising sails snap crackle and pop like the world's most expensive bowl of cereal; Crusty yells the words back, sure that they are the mantra that will bring some delightful powdery smoking injectable dreamstuff to his cranium.
The silly boat bucks, rolls, and scoots; the silly sailors jump and tug and crank and yell; Crusty just sits there getting more and more pissed off at the general lack of even so much as one lousy beer.
There is more and more yelling, there is still no beer. There is cheering, there is still nothing to cheer about. There is hugging, there is definitely nothing to cheer about. Crusty is slapped on the back and happy faces yell words in his face, when will this crap end? The boat is again at the dock, there is something familiar in the air: someone is dispensing some kind of wine all over Crusty's head.
Things start to look up.
Contacting the editor: Sherry Daniel
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