Blowing about 27 at North Sea Road…Jeff on a 4.2, me on a 4.0, taking long reaches out to the fast current between the launch and Robins Island, because that’s where the current are serving up 4-5 foot standing waves for us to jump off of and/or surf down.
We’re at it for an hour or so, and Jeff is sailing further and further upwind on every reach. Each reach is about half a mile, so keeping an eye on each other at the ends isn’t easy to begin with, and Jeff is sailing god knows where half the time. At one point I go in to the beach to take a rest, and standing on the beach look out to see where Jeff is now.
At first I can’t spot him. Can’t spot him at second either. I proceed to spend a solid minute scanning the bay looking for him. Now I start to think “okay, if he’s separated from his board a mile from shore, I should really get going. Then I think “no he’s just adjusting his boom-mounted camera”. After flipflopping on what I should do for another minute I put my board back in the water and start heading upwind. Dude’s been down in the water for at least three minutes…there’s a problem and it’s nuking out there.
Not thirty seconds after I launch I spot Jeff. But it can’t be Jeff. He’s downwind instead of upwind, close to shore outbound instead of a mile out sailing inbound…there’s no way he could be where he is without my having seen him there. And that’s not all…he’s sailing curiously slow and steady even though the wind is honking and the water hectic. Jeff has gone Shakespearean on my ass…he’s died while I was lollygagging on shore, and sent his ghost to windsurf in my face for punishment. Extremely weird
So I went like a shot downwind towards Jeff’s ghost. It totally looked like a ghost sailor until suddenly he got more wind and then it looked like Jeff. I sailed behind him and we surfed some waves, caught some air etc. Not a ghost.
(Photo of Jeff, by Jeff, as he gets into the rollers of the South Race between Robins Island and shore.)
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