Scott said it was 4.7. He certainly had RIGGED a 4.7. Christian rigged a 5.something. But nobody was sailing. Not much in the way of whitecaps either. But word was the wind was coming, so I rigged a 4.7. Everyone who rigged went small, while Jon Ford and Peconic Jeff watched (yes, Peconic Jeff make a rare appearance! No gear though…he brought a camera to shoot the windsurfing, if any happened.) All that higher wind gear laying on the South Jamesport beach, dry.
The first move was to put a bigger board under one's 4.7. I'm usually on 77 liters for 4.7 so I went for my 93. Then I watched someone shlogging on 100 liters so I grabbed the trusty 109. One hundred nine liters, 70 cm wide, with a 34cm fin…NOT what the windsurfing gods intended for 4.7 sailing, but I wanted to plane, and so I sometimes did. Me Scott Artie George Christian and others doing the on-off for a couple hours.
Scott said the big winds would come an hour later, so Artie and I called the spouses to request late passes. And got them. But as the wind died further I bailed and went home. Artie dubbed it "the day that never was." Such is windsuffering.
(Scott excitedly waiting for the late blow to begin. Pic by Artie)
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