Windsurfing Magazine

iberger
2010-07-26 07:28:03 | 309 views | 2 Comments

Today was going to be my first return to the Hudson after my foray into beach sailing in Cape Cod. Cape Cod had been pretty good to me. I had sailed out in the swells of Corn Hill beach pretty successfully, with not too many spills, so I was ready to go back to my home front and conquer the Hudson yet again. The river had other plans.

Winds were forecasted to be north in the mid-teens, so I packed my quiver into my wife’s Volkswagen Jetta and headed for Swamp Hole. Presnt at Swamp Hole was our resident wind guru Ned, who’s forgotten more about windsurfing than I’ll ever know. I first rigged my Exocet Cruiser, a board I’m falling less and less in love with, with a 6.5. The winds were almost right for a 6.5 but I couldn’t seem to get my weight right on the board or something. I don’t know … I’ve only had one or two satisfying sails with this board. Then an odd thing happen: I went down on top of the sail and it suddenly felt weird underneath me, like it was all crinkly or something. When I uphauled I realized the sail had popped off the end of the mast. That particular sail only has a strap at the top, not a pin or end-cap, and I hadn’t been putting a pin on the strap to hold it in. Now I learned my lesson with that. I limped back to Swamp hole and decided to redo everything. I rigged my cammed 7.0 instead and dropped it onto my Kona, then set out again.

I had a couple of planing runs out into the river when the wind started picking up, I mean really picking up! My friend John Spanos, who was also out there, estimated the winds got to 30-35. There I was, out there with a 7.0, getting knock down like crazy. It was brutal. Forget about sheeting in; the best an intermediate sailor like me could hope for was surviving and getting somewhere, but I was having trouble even standing up! (No, I don’t know how to waterstart yet.) After about fifteen minutes of this beating, my muscles were aching and I wa getting exhausted. So much for a nice little sail.

The problem with launching from Swamp Hole is that there are only two recovery points, one close by at Senasqua Park and another at Croton Point Park, which is quite a bit downstream. I was flailing about parallel with Senasqua but was also getting blown south. Man, I did not want to recover at Croton Point! Getting battered in high winds, seriously battered, is one of those moments which tests a less-skilled sailor like myself. After you’ve been knocked down for the twentieth time your arms start to ache. You swallow a lot of water (The Hudson River! Yum!).

Then crazy thoughts enter your brain. You start muttering: “I hate windsurfing! I hate this sport! Why the hell did I ever go out on the river? I promise, God, when I get back to shore, I’m going to take up skateboarding. Or jogging. Or gardening. Or anything where I won’t have to get into the water. Just please let me get to shore!”

For some reason, my thirty-fifth attempt to sheet in was successful. I managed to get the sail engaged, spilling most of the wind, and pointed the Kona towards Senasqua. I made it in and parked the board on the beach. No, I did not kiss the ground; the joy of being on shore kept the thought from my mind. Then I did the “walk of the conquered hero” back to Swamp Hole to get the car.

After chatting at Swamp Hole for a while, the wind died down. Ned suggested that I might be able to sail my board back,“if you got the tacking right.” Now, tacking is one of the things I can actually do on my Kona board reasonably competently (Ned taught me) so I took him up on it. I walked back and returned upwind to Swamp Hole in just one tack. I was redeemed!

The only good thing about getting hammered out on the water is that it’s a good workout. Forget about the elliptical trainer or the treadmill: just get your inexperienced rear end out on heavy winds with a big sail, and you’re in for the workout of the month. Not that I would actually suggest this as a workout, but it has its benefits.