Enter your email to get updates in your inbox or subscribe to the RSS feed in your feed reader.
October 10th, 2008 in General.
Last night I was invited to attend the Annapolis premiere of “Morning Light,” Roy Disney’s production following 15 sailors and their pursuit of the Transpac race last summer. We were greeted with a full house, young and old, sailors and non-sailors alike in the theater to enjoy the film. After a short introduction we were treated to an incredibly shot film full of amazing sailing, great characters and plenty of emotion. It was an honor for me to be on the selection committee all those months ago to pare down the team from 500 applicants to 30 at the tryouts and then only 15 for the training period of the movie. Watching some of my close friends go on this amazing journey was a lot of fun to say the least. I sat beside my buddy Charlie Enright during the movie and he gave me the scoop about how much fun they had making the film. If I didn’t have the Olympics to chase after I would have loved being with that great group.
I’d recommend anybody to go and see this movie. I have a certain amount of emotion invested in the film as the crew is filled with some great and long-time friends, but the cinematography is spectacular, the training and race was truly fun to watch for both sailor and non-sailor.
Afterwards, we had a question and answer session with a panel of producers Leslie Demuse, Roy Disney, sailors Jeremy Wilmot, Charlie Enright, and Kit Will, and selection committee members myself and Robbie Haines (pictured below left to right). Kids from all of the youth sailing programs in Baltimore and Annapolis were full of excitement and questions, and the guys were able to give some fun answers. The mayor of Annapolis closed the evening last night, giving it her stamp of approval.
Click Here to go to the Morning Light website.
October 8th, 2008 in General.
Disney’s “Morning Light” movie has had its premiers in California and is set to open nation-wide on October 17th. Tonight and tomorrow on ESPN2 there is an hour special at 8pm (est) on the making of the film including the team selection trials held in Long Beach a year and a half ago.
Check out the trailer and information here. www.disney.com/morninglight
October 8th, 2008 in General.
For whatever reason, George Bush thinks it’s a great idea to keep inviting the Olympic Team back to his house for a visit. Yesterday morning, in the cool October sunshine on the south lawn of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, President Bush spoke to a crowd of some 500 people with the 2008 Olympic and Paralympic Teams standing behind him. As I wrote about last time we were invited there, the House and grounds are something to behold, and the support of the Bush administration is much appreciated by the USOC and the teams. Certainly regardless of political inclinations, the respect for the office takes everybody a bit by surprise, and wandering around the halls of the house really does make you appreciate that the White House is indeed the people’s house. The art work and decor may change with the tastes of the incumbent’s family, but the greatest thing about out democracy is the fact that the White House gets returned to the people’s custody every four years. Here’s what the President said.
October 6th, 2008 in General.
In an effort to transition this website into a more useful tool, I am going to begin to enable links and information channels to my upcoming availability for racing, coaching, speaking, charters, items for sale, as well as the standard regatta reports, updates and Monday Morning Tactician columns.
Below is the newest version of the upcoming CampbellSailing.com Calendar. To purchase boats, sails, compasses, please check the FOR SALE link on the right column and email campbellsailing@gmail.com. To charter either of my two available Lasers please email as well. Two boats are already chartered for Orange Bowl. Only one boat is left for Miami OCR and Midwinters East. See Calendar for availability.
My personal racing calendar for the winter is beginning to fill up as well. Please feel free to email if you have any questions.
September 29th, 2008 in Monday Morning Tactician.
I made it back on the water this weekend on Long Island Sound racing aboard Rima2 a Reichel/Pugh 55 based out of Stamford, CT. Having spent some time on boats of that size, I certainly knew what to expect, but in reality it was one of the first times I had been given total responsibility for tactical decisions and no more. Not having to worry about helming thanks to owner John Brim, and not having to worry about navigation and timing thanks to Ed Cesare and Molly Baxter, I was able to just put my head into the tactical challenge of getting a boat faster than the rest of the fleet through slower traffic.
The 55-footer was slightly bigger and better equipped than most of the boats in our class, so we spent much of the weekend racing against the clock, which is certainly a concept I’m not all that accustomed to. Getting off the starting line very well twice and clearing nicely in the third race, I was quite pleased with the fact that we got the boat pointed in the direction we planned to go each of the three first beats. The difficult part of racing is then to get the crew and the boat re-focused on getting into the speed groove, minimizing the number of turns, and staying out of traffic as much as possible so that we could maximize our time spent at full-speed. In one-design racing, tactical decision-making is so often focused on positioning and boat to boat interaction. Both of those ideas balanced with a focus on boatspeed make one-design racing the multifaceted sport that we love. IRC and PHRF racing is an entirely different animal where ratings become such a large part of the mentality that it can be hard to switch the rounded tactical mindset into one centered on positioning the boat in places where it’s speed can be maximized. It took me a few legs to realize that was the biggest factor.
The breeze was light as we headed out and quickly built to about fifteen knots ahead of forecasted rain. Unfortunately, the boat’s mast was tuned for the forecasted range of 4-8 knots and in the first couple races I think we were slightly slow because of the complacency to stay with that setting instead of hurrying to fix it. Regardless, we got off the line well in the first race, pulled out to leeward of the group, tacked, crossed and centered up on the racecourse ultimately making a commitment to fewer tacks and the upper right side of the racecourse. Unsure of the layline capabilities of the boat, I let Ed call the first couple laylines and tried my best to confirm his calls. A small left in the last few hundred yards to the mark really left us pinching into the first top mark. We sailed the starboard tack header down the run and ultimately gybed a bit shy of the port tack layline and had to sail deeper than optimal for the last bit of that leg as well. We corrected the mistake for the next lap, but overall had great boathandling from the group allowing me to make calls through the traffic of the other two fleets and finish very close to the next two boats on time. I learned very quickly how sailing those less-than-optimal angles for any amount of time can be detrimental in the IRC/PHRF formats. For the rest of the day I felt the need to be a bit more conservative and go a little deeper before committing to tacking. Ultimately, sailing fatter into marks was a better play for the boat, but learning that nuance took a racing context to really understand.
One of the big lessons I learned by simply being in the tactician role was to be louder and more vocal to the rest of the crew as necessary. On board our boat, the helmsman’s role was one to make the boat go straight and make its maneuvers as quickly and smoothly as possible. There was very little need for any coaching through the turns, even in traffic. But once I had thought the next few moves through in my head, consulted the navigator, and talked over the helmsman’s shoulder so he could start visualizing what was going to happen, it was then my role to relay those plans to the rest of the ten guys forward so that they could have time to work out their next move, ask questions if necessary and properly prepare for the upcoming maneuver. We had a choice at one point to go with a flatter reaching sail for a triangle course that the race committee set for us instead of the regular windward-leewards. In the only boat-handling issue of the day, that sail went up with only the head and tack attached leaving the sheets slack on the deck and the clew whipping out to leeward as we burned off our speed down the first reach. Knowing that I had to be in a more vocal role, it was my position on the boat to call the mast man to “Hold” before dropping the jib, allowing us to at least have two sails up for the rest of the time down the leg before we could pull up the bigger spinnaker.
We had a couple of classic, tactician v. helmsman conversations through the weekend where I asked him to put the boat through a gap that he wasn’t sure we could shoot, or tacking across a boat he wasn’t sure we could cross, but all in all it was a very satisfying experience where the boat went where I knew the boat could go. One situation in particular impressed me. We were approaching the windward mark in the midst of a J122 clump. We were on the port layline with the leader of their group, just ahead on the starboard layline. Making the call that we could not lee-bow effectively, I pushed the team to hold on port, and follow the transom of the J boat into a tack. As soon as we tacked, I snuck down to leeward to get a view of the afterguard of the boat ahead. With about 200 yards left into the mark, he motioned to me that he wanted us to go through them to leeward so that we wouldn’t roll them or be hoisting directly on top of their breeze as we both turned down the run. Considering he was leading his group, I would have wanted the same thing. I love when rational people can successfully communicate with each other with one wave of the hand. When I came back up to the rail and let our helmsman know the next play, he took a double take and asked me if I was serious. I let our jib man know we were going to crack of and foot to leeward of the boat ahead. We broke through their bad air in about a boatlength’s time, and rounded the mark just bow-ahead.
In another case, we had been sailing on starboard for quite some time and two slower J44s were going to cross us from the left side of the racecourse. From a long distance out, I could see that they would be in play, but that their crosses would be close. The last thing I wanted was a short lee-bow from a J44, the last thing the driver of the J44 wanted was to have to leebow a 55-footer and get rolled, or be forced to take a massive duck. To ease his tensions about the close situation, I made eye contact from a few hundred feet out and waved them across. Only at that point did I tell our helmsman that there were a couple boats coming across our bow. There was never any need for change of course on either boat, but often hyper-tension at the wheel leads to irrational action. The boats crossed without trouble and we were able to keep the boat going upwind at optimum VMG.
Monday Morning Tactician Says: It’s always good to have a bit of conversation going between competitors around the racecourse. Often sailboats only talk to each other when there is a foul or in some tense situation. I find that most of the time its worthwhile to have the other boat know your intentions, more often than not they are parallel to your competitor’s.
The quick summary of the weekend is that I was impressed by the cohesiveness and fluidity of the crew onboard Rima2. I think the group was well rehearsed and well prepared for the situations that we got into, and in that sense it was great to be able to step into the tactician’s seat. There were some communication items that we overcame as well as some improved understanding of the rating-style of sailing, but all in all a good experience for me. I’m really looking forward to more sailing like it, next step is finding somebody who’ll have me on board.
Photo from this weekend
(I’m behind the helmsman with the brown hat)
Next on the agenda is the move up the hill here in Washington DC to a slightly bigger place. Next week the entire US Olympic Team has been invited to attend a reception at the White House, I guess now that Mr Bush has submitted his version of the market-recovery-plan, he’s just going to host the team for the next couple of months until he’s out of office. Looming on the horizon is the Melges 24 North Americans to be held in Annapolis at the Eastport Yacht Club. Can’t wait to get racing there.
September 24th, 2008 in General.
Speeches and boatracing: just about sums up these last few weeks. Since coming home from China I’ve been in the process of tackling my small slice of real life, albeit staying as far away from an office as possible. Beyond a failed log canoe weekend, I’ll have spent three weekends making the mad Friday dash between Washington and New York for speaking engagements at Island Heights Yacht Club in New Jersey as well as Seawanhaka Corinthian Yacht Club in Oyster Bay, New York last weekend. Tonight I’ll be at the Annapolis Yacht Club before heading back to New York this weekend to race with the 55-footer Rima2. Beyond some Sonar teamracing last weekend, and some Thursday night races under the sunsets and airplanes with the Georgetown Alumni Racing squad, the sailing has been remarkably on the backburner. I’m very excited to jump back in as the fall season starts here. Melges 24 North Americans are set for the end of October in Annapolis and coaching will likely take up some of the on-the-water hours in the coming weeks. I had the pleasure of spending an afternoon in the county on Monday with the St Mary’s College laser sailors as they get ready for their MAISA championships.
I was lucky enough to send out 215 individual thank you cards to the multitude of donors who supported my Laser sailing over the last few years. What an incredibly humbling experience, sitting in front of the post office putting stamps on that big a stack of envelopes. I wish that I could thank every person and their family in that pile. It would take me seven months to thank them all if I spent one night with each of them!
Filling the rest of the time is something I’m itching to do, but certainly a bit of rest is doing me good. I’ve been able to bridge this website into a number of columns in upcoming editions of Sailing World Magazine, so we’ll see where that goes!
The winter season is the next item on the agenda. I’m looking into some Melges 32 racing, debating heavily whether to get involved in some Star sailing this winter and trying to sort out whether or not to charter my Lasers for the winter in Florida before I put them up for sale. If anybody has any interest in winter charters or two good Lasers please feel free to contact me at campbellsailing@gmail.com.
More to come from CampbellSailing.com. Stay tuned for future Monday Morning Tactician columns as the racing ramps back up!
September 9th, 2008 in General.
Unfortunately, the effects of Hurricane Hannah blew out our weekend of racing on the Silver Heel against the fleet of Log Canoes in St Michael’s Maryland this weekend. Forced to postpone likely until next year, we’ll turn to some other racing through the rest of the fall season here. Here’s a shot from last year:
Meanwhile, let’s go USA! Our Paralympic teams started their regatta yesterday and are off on a hot streak: http://olympics.ussailing.org/Olympics.htm
September 4th, 2008 in General.
One of my favorite parts about the Olympic Games and any event under the umbrella of the USOC is the constant care, attention and assistance that you receive while in that high level event. I’ve been lucky enough to participate in three of those events at three levels: the 2005 World University Games in Turkey, the 2007 PanAm Games in Brazil, and the recent Olympic Games in China. I joked amongst my teams at each event about how good it is being in “the envelope.” In reality it’s quite a grand experience. Every little detail is sorted so that you can basically sleepwalk through from the moment you step into the airport on your way to the initial team processing until you step foot in the boat for your first race. Like any top-rate organization the USOC makes sure that you are put in the best possible position to win at the end of the day. Flights, food, hotels, the village, every logistical thing is taken care of and you couldn’t spend a dollar if you wanted to. On top of it all: if anything is making you uncomfortable, there is always somebody there to answer your questions. Stepping into that envelope is sweet. If you show up in the right uniforms when the schedule tells you to, you can do no wrong.
Stepping out of that envelope is when reality smacks you in the mouth. There is a bit more freedom and you’re no longer under constant surveillance of people making sure that you’re alright, but at the reality is that you’re on your own again. For the US sailors that means you’re on your own budget, making your own arrangements and for most of us back to work. The Olympic balloon slowly deflates and all of a sudden there are months of time on the calendar sitting blank waiting to be populated by some good racing and good events. All those questions that you’ve been dodging about “What are you doing after the Games?” suddenly become more valid.
So I have to pose the question to myself, “What am I doing after the Games?” Olympic sailing for the US Sailing Team is a difficult endeavor demanding a lot of sacrifices. The time spent fundraising, planning flights, hotels, cars, shipping boats, chartering boats, hiring coaches, all take time away from the task at hand: training in the gym and on the water and racing. I’ll use an analogy from one of my coaches, that the US Team right now is much like a Club team at the collegiate level of the sport. All around the circuit and leading into the Olympic experience we were up against a number of different Varsity programs. When I was sailing for Georgetown, we had at least one, now two, coaches working full time to make sure that the logistics, fundraising, flights, hotels, cars, etc. were taken care of so that as student-athletes could use their time as carefully as possible to pass their classes and then hop in the vans and go boatracing on weekends. Club teams in college sailing are at a huge disadvantage because of the constant need to attend to that other stuff while taking care of books, practice and racing. If I had gone to a school with a student run sailing team, there is no chance that I would have had nearly the college career that I did. In similar context, my time with the US Sailing Team has been living that Club team lifestyle. Hoping for staff coaching at an event, constantly contacting sponsors, and trying to keep the ol’ blog up to date so that the campaign stays fresh in the national and international spotlight. I know that there are a lot of people in the US Sailing Team organization that are working hard to establish that Varsity atmosphere, but it is difficult to make that transition without proper support.
“What am I doing after the Games?” still hangs in the air. The attempt is certainly to break into the next level of the sport. Knowing that I perform best in the larger team environment, one focused on improvement and where corners don’t need to be cut for any reason, I have to remain open to the sailing at a Grand Prix or America’s Cup level. With the Cup at a standstill, the market is certainly full of people calling themselves professional sailors, but I’m ready to help some program out in a real way. Meanwhile, I hope to be able to put my writing to use and find work through that field. I’m in the process of settling into a new base of operations in Washington DC and may want to lend some services to my alma mater in some way, shape, or form.
The immediate next step is to thank all 208 individual donors to my campaign through the last two years. 208! Not to mention my family and close friends, I had a posse of 11 people in Qingdao cheering me on and am forever indebted to them. I had an unbelievable response from people back home via email and comments on the website during the Games and I wish I could thank everybody individually, but thank you. My product sponsors Kaenon, Sperry and Magic Marine have been no short of great through this campaign and I hope they will continue with me as I expand my range in the sport.
The next step is to get back in the boat: a group of friends here will be heading out to the Eastern Shore of Maryland this weekend to take part in some log canoe racing. I’m looking forward to our second shot at this crazy version of our beloved sport and will report back on how the weekend went.
More to come.
August 25th, 2008 in General.
After avoiding the internet altogether the last few days I was in China, I had better get back to business here. As many CampbellSailing.com readers may have seen, the end of my Olympic regatta was no walk in the park. The final day of racing was a phenomenal day of sailing. Uncommon westerly breeze filled steady across the course while big puffy clouds floated off the shore and 80 degree sunshine satiated all the fleets’ desires to get some decent racing in. The Race Committee finally got together three races as the wind died through the afternoon and somehow per usual we finished the afternoon’s race in less than three knots of wind and a raging upwind current.
Going into the day I was only about 20 points out of the top-ten and medal race contention, so I really saw it as if I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. If I could find a way out of the 16 range and put together three top-ten finishes I might be able to extend my series. I opened the day with a great start near the boat end and stretched out to the middle right. I rounded 15th an gained a few boats enough to start the day off well with an 8th.
The second race I had another good start, but after taking a header off the line got pinned into a spot I didn’t really like. About half way up the course I was looking to make a clearing tack back to the middle of the race course, leebowing a big group and hopefully getting back into the race. I saw one opportunity to tack starboard to port in front of one of my training buddies from Switzerland. I completed my tack in front of him, but not without having him cry out in frustration because of the close quarters. I sailed away from the incident confident that it was close but that no contact and no foul had occurred and knowing that if I did a 720 at that point, my regatta would indeed be over at day’s end anyway. I made it to the windward mark in the 28 range and was able to piece together a decent couple of legs and get back into the 17 range at the finish.
I though I still had a good chance going into the last race and after a bow-out start and a tack to the right, I was able to get around the first lap as high as 10th. Down the first reach the breeze started to get quite light and the current was pushing the fleet upwind at an alarming rate. By the time we got to the reach mark we were in a position to gybe across the fleet and try and cross them to the mark and star down the run. In the Laser fleet, unlike most of the fleets at the Olympics. the races are basically up for grabs between 8th and 35th place. All the boats get to most marks in most conditions bow to stern and more often overlapped. Somewhere in the gybe across the fleet’s bows the jury decided that I’d gained too much from a rock or the gybe and gave me a yellow flag. I had to spin a quick 720 as I watched the future gold medallist who I’d sailed the whole race next to sail away in a top ten finish. I still got out and to the inside of the run in ok shape in the teens, but with the current running hard upwind like it was the fleet was incredibly stacked up. As we approached the leeward marks for the gybe into the finish I was close to 14th place and the inside-most boat of what appeared to be a monster melee about to happen. Calling for room does little good in a situation where the outside nine boats are being rafted onto each other by the tenth boat as they try in vain to cut around the mark in 3 knots of wind while being flushed up the course in 1.5 knots of current. I literally sat rafted between my Turkish buddy Kemal and the mark for 20 seconds as guy slammed and pushed their way around the outside. I entered the situation 15th, and exited 30th. After an almost joking 360 for being rafted on the mark for so long, I think I finished 36th. The whole situation was incredibly comical in a sick sort of way. The same jury that had given me a flag for an extra rock on the top reach sat only yards away laughing as literally 25 Olympians fouled the daylights out of each other and me on the inside totally powerless to do anything about it. Guess how many protests were filed for the melee… zero.
I returned to the dock and hashed out a very civil protest against a friend about another small incident and thus took a DSQ in race two. The committee decided that I must have tacked too close to Christoph and that’s fine. The DSQ took me from a final position in the teens to about 25th overall. In reality once I’d fallen out of the top ten after the final race’s melee, the rest of it really didn’t count for much. It is a pretty fun thing to see the negative press about apparently bursting under the pressure of the Games. The scores never tell the truth. They don’t publish great comebacks or fleet-flipping windshifts. In reality, it was a very tough regatta and a bad result. I’m not unhappy with how I sailed. I know I could have finished better on a different week, but remembering that it was just one boatrace is hard for some people to do.
That said, I love the camaraderie of the Laser and all that the class has done for me over the last ten years since I started sailing the radial in 1998. I’ve been fortunate to know Zach Railey and Stu McNay (two of my teammates on this Olympic Team) for all of those ten years thanks to Laser sailing. I’ve been able to go to some incredible places and win some fantastic events. The Youth Champs, High School Champs, Collegiate Champs, World University Games and Pan Am Games and now the Olympic Games are certainly highlights of my Laser sailing, but the great men that I’ve been fortunate to meet and race against and race with are people that I will always call friends. This Olympic Regatta, for better or for worse will represent the last Laser regatta I sail in serious pursuit of the Olympic level. I won’t rule out a bunch of Laser sailing in my future, but at this point I will walk away from the class and into the future of my sailing career.
After only a few days off sightseeing Beijing and enjoying the rest of my Olympics at the Bronze Medal baseball game and the Gold Medal women’s basketball and the Closing Ceremonies with a few of my closest friends in China, I’m already looking forward to getting involved with other areas of the sport. I know that the Laser does not showcase my best skills in the game of sailing. Frankly I’m very much looking forward to using my brain instead of my legs to get around the course. The team-building and team dynamics that I learned at university will be better applied to sailing boats with more people on board. I’m not sure exactly the direction I’m headed for the next few months, but I do know that I will be racing boats fast and looking forward to it.
The Olympics has had a powerful influence on me. I look forward to coming back again. I have a wealth of great experience from this event that will make me a better sailor and a better person. Our team was rich with outstanding racers and staff and great friends. Parity in the game has created a negative atmosphere around this team’s performance over recent quads when in reality we are improving at a phenomenal rate. I want to personally thank Gary Bodie for his great help with the team since I’ve been on it. I have great faith that Kenneth and Dean and our staff will lead this team into a strong future. I desperately want to continue my involvement, but at this point I have to step away and reassess financially and personally. I’m really happy to have made some great friends and had incredible support from great sponsors and donors to my Laser sailing. I hope that they will see my step into the future of the sport as something that they can support with equal and increasing fervor.
More photos and debrief from the Olympic experience to come
August 17th, 2008 in General.
Just imagine the following scenario: 15-20 knots, direction steady between 75-85 degrees, 4-5 foot waves, dying ebb switching to flood tide (keeping the fleet off the starting line), start time an hour earlier than normal (posted at 1200), and three races scheduled. What could be more welcoming to a race committee? Unfortunately, with the addition of heavy rains and a few more knots of breeze, the entire day of racing was almost written off.
The Laser fleet arrived on course area C expecting to get a third of the regatta finished up in heavy winds and big seas with a huge amount of time spent on the upwind legs. Instead, we were subjected to an hour of general recalls and mid-sequence postponements until finally the adverse current finally switched on to cause enough sag that we could get a start off. The rain was torrential and coming down hard enough that visibility was severely limited during the actual race.
When the race finished and we lined up for a second start, the race committee boat unexpectedly blew the postponement with 25 seconds to go (not uncommon this week, in an apparent attempt to avoid general recalls and the use of the Black Flag rule). Minutes later it became obvious that the committee boat was adrift and had either pulled up anchor or had lost its ground tackle and was drifting downwind with the wind and current at about 2 knots. AP over H was signaled and the fleet could do nothing but follow orders and rip downwind for the harbor entrance.
Once we pulled our boats out of the water and took shelter out of the rain, we heard the boards and 49ers were also en route to the dock. The boards were the first to be postponed for the rest of the day (AP over A in signal flags), and then the Finns were signaled to begin their medal race on course A out in front of the pier. Seeing that the Finns and hearing rumors that the 49ers would soon follow the Lasers and Radials expected to be heading out at any moment… Then the AP flag went down and the fleet anxiously pulled their lifejackets back on and started putting sails up until we saw that they were indeed hoisting the AP over A flags for us as well. The riotous whistles, banging hands on boats and buildings, audible boos and hissing from the fleet of sailors being told that they couldn’t go racing was really intense. The disappointment from a group of athletes who only wanted to go out and race was obvious and frustrating.
The saving grace was that I got to hustle across the boatpark and onto the seawall just in time to stand by Zach Railey’s folks and a bunch of Team USA and watch Zach sure up his silver medal at his first Olympics. To be able to help the big guy up the ramp at the end of such a fantastic event is an honor as his friend and competitor for so many years. It should not be attempted to be put into words how proud I am of my friend because it cannot be, and it’ll inflate his ego more than it needs to be! What a regatta, what an effort! Congratulations Zach!
Us Laser guys are scheduled for three more races tomorrow (it will be the fourth consecutive day where we’ve been scheduled for three, so we’ll see if we can break form and get more than one race off). Hopefully I can break out of my mid-regatta funk here and get back into medal race form for Tuesday. After winning the pin in two of the general recalls, I was trying a slightly more conservative mid-line approach when I got picked off in the only black-flag general recall that we’ve had this regatta (instead of the usual mid-sequence AP surrender). That’s just one of those parts of the game that make boatracing all the more challenging. It was a bit unfortunate to have to sit in the driving rain, heavy seas and 15-25 knots flogging my sail for an hour and half only to be abandoned back to shore, but that’s life. And somehow I get the feeling that it probably beats a day at the office most of the time. At least that’s what I tell myself.
More to come from the Olympics in Qingdao.