Isabel goes on strike! 5 Jul 19



16º 27.052s 145º 22.049w

Sun Jul 07 2019

A couple days ago our 0700 – 0900 kite boarding lesson was conducted in “rather robust conditions”. Wind between 20 and 30 knots best we could tell, and seas really choppy, up to perhaps the ½ occasional meter wind wave. It was difficult for newbies like us, but we did our best, driving the little, highly responsive 6 square meter kites around. Turns out they need to be driven quite aggressively to get up on the board, then one needs to be rather clever to keep locomoting, but in the right conditions once up on plane it’s just a matter of parking the kite at the right angle and manipulating one’s feet to change the board’s angle to the water, thereby controlling the resistance the gusty wind conditions. Or so I believe I’m told. Anyway, some rather magnificent face plants and loss of boards resulted, and we did spend a bit of time waiting for Adrien to rescue us. Poor guy did stay awfully busy going back and forth, offering encouragement and gentle coaching instructions. However much salt water we consumed, there seems to be an endless supply remaining.

Yesterday we were up at 0520 as usual to guzzle coffee and mentally prepare ourselves for what was to come. It had been a rather blustery night with numerous squalls moving through the anchorage, and Isabel finally announced around 0600 that she wasn’t going to set herself up for the abuse she received by the previous day’s conditions. She did try to advise Adrien and Aline of her decision over the VHF, but there was no response. Apparently they live in one hull of their catamaran, and the VHF radio is in the other one. Perhaps a hand held might be in order?

0700 – here comes Adrien to fetch us, and she advises him that she’s going to sit this one out. He’s OK with that and quite understanding given the previous day’s fun and games, but as he has nobody else willing to get up at the insane hour we are, it turns into a private lesson for yours truly. What a bargain! It turns out the conditions are much improved from the previous day, and I actually motor along to the left for quite a long way, with Adrien offering me suggestions each time I pause to rest (otherwise known as losing control in a graceful manner). Only one good face plant results in the kite turning inside out, which Adrien quickly corrects and I’m off again. Towards the end of the 2-hour session, I crash again but manage to release the bar which depowers the kite, however it does hit the water leading edge first. All is well, but after a few seconds there’s a loud popping sound, and the kite immediately goes flacid. Well, as in other (ahem) activities, flacid does not make for a satisfactory performance, so the kiting lesson is over for the day. Adrien laments that the kite is almost brand new, having only been used 3 times, and we both ponder why the internal plastic bladder might have popped.

Later in the morning the conditions seemed to mellow a bit, so I tool over to SV Pizza, Adrien and Aline’s catamaran, and discuss the possibility of an afternoon lesson for Isabel. Yahtzee! There’s a spot available from 1400-1600 along with a 10 year old girl, so Isabel enthusiastically agrees to continue with her lessons. That afternoon Isabel has a great lesson which boosts her self-confidence, and as the younger girl isn’t feeling excited about the chance to kite board, it turns into a private lesson! Isabel and Adrien return happy to report that she can motor along quite nicely to the left, so tomorrow it’s time to work on going back to the right. Good on her! These 6 square meter kites are quite the challenge to manage, and she’s really getting the hang of it.

In Isabel’s absence, I’ve been madly cleaning and tidying JollyDogs as we’ve agreed to host the birthday celebration of our good friend John on SV Halcyon at 1700. It’s been sunny for a change, so the boat is all opened up and airing out and the outdoor seat cushions are finally dry after being saturated by rain. In an effort to “freshen up” Isabel’s little beanbag chair (she’s terribly fond of this thing, which does make kicking back on the bow or cabin top supremely comfortable) I put it in front of the open saloon windows, figuring that if the wind really howls it’ll just blow back into the saloon.

As the witching hour for the party approaches, I go forward to police up drying towels and pillows on the foredeck, and note that the beanbag has taken its leave. My beanbag displacement theory in shambles, I’m forced to report to Isabel upon her return that her chair has disappeared. She is not pleased.

Well, by the time I noted it missing, I figured that it had likely blown a mile or more downwind and with my workload I didn’t even leap in the dinghy to go hunting for the chair. Funnily enough, sometime after Isabel’s return she hears a general hail on the VHF regarding the recovery of a beanbag chair, so she quickly claims it as hers and invites the rescuers to join us in the evening festivities. It turns out to be Kristian and Sabrina from the trimaran SV Aldebaran, and they are absolutely lovely people to hang out with.

By about 1730 the party is on, with even the birthday boy, his wife and their current crew Simon finally arriving. As their dinghy approaches JollyDogs, I note that Becca is standing proudly at the bow, wearing a beautiful long evening dress-like object and carefully balancing the birthday cake she baked. The crew of SV North Star are already on board, and thankfully they were able to provide the confectioner’s sugar required to complete the cake recipe. Also in attendance is the crew of SV Rhythm, Adrien and Aline and a SCUBA instructor pal of theirs, Keith and Martin of SV Otra Vida, and a couple other boats I’ve lost track of. Something like 20 folks altogether, and despite the light rain showers that persist in coming and going, a great time is had by all!

Around “cruisers midnight” (2100) all of the guests have departed except for the Halcyon, so after bucketing out and scrubbing the cockpit of birthday cake debris, it’s time to toast the birthday boy with a shot of tequila. You only get to be 39 once, John so make it a good year!

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