2011 I-to-I Recap from Don Wagner

Having participated in most of the I to I races, I look forward to another with equal parts anticipation and dread.  This year, I diligently followed NOAAs forecast, and as Saturday approached, worried that it might blow too hard, but promised myself that I just wouldn't leave the beach unless conditions were perfect. 

I arrived , walked up to scope it out, and promptly got facial sandblasted just looking seaward.  No wind meter needed, I knew right away this was more wind than I wanted to deal with.  But, it was great to see windsurfing friends and we all visited awhile, waiting for the midday lull.  Sure enough , the wind seemed to slack a bit and shift more easterly, and Ron called for the start.  Honestly, I was still on the fence, but it was a beautiful day, and I kind of just wanted to go for a sail, you know, have a little fun.

So I rigged and took my current favorite slalom/formula board and 7.8 to near the water.  After getting final instructions/advice from Ron, I heard the now all too familiar "crack" as my 2006 NP mast self destructed.  But before I could breathe a sigh of relief, Ron was offering to lend me his 490, I knew that I would have to confront this windy Atlantic ocean after all.

I timed my launch ok, but couldn't seem to find much wind in the surf Zone, and suddenly Fernando blasts  past windward of me, only to encounter a sizable breaking wave, and fell Just in front of me.  I then jumped off and untangled our rigs.  So here I am, in the surf zone, desperately trying to ready my rig and waterstart whilst big enough chop/surf rolls at me with about a 4 second period and the no wind surf zone, and to top it off, the lifeguard is whistling frantically at me, as if I have chosen to violate his area, I'm ignoring him.

I finally got a break, made it through the surf zone, then tried to figure out where the starting line was.  Gave up and just waited until I saw Ron start, and started behind him.  Things went well for a while, in the straps, pushing hard to upwind.  Another misjudgment, I swear, I thought the wind was east enough that I could easily travel north to the inlet without tacking.  But my 49 cm. Techtonic was not up to the task, and I then regretted that I had not used my Kashy 62.  I had some hope, as in the gusts I could angle upwind a bit, but with repeated fin seaweed attacks, I barely cleared the first pier, and then was forced to tack short of the second pier.

I was a little surprised to see that Fernando was a short distance behind me, surprised that he too was having trouble staying upwind.  Tacking in these conditions involved throwing the rig windward, jumping off and then water starting .  Of course, I misjudged, ended up tacking two more times,  and by the time I rounded behind Fernando, the leaders were out of sight, and I accepted the all too apparent reality this was no longer, for me, a race.

Then I tried to head downwind, but I swear the wind picked up even more, and without chicken straps, I realized I had no hope of heading downwind at speed.  So began the slow, arduous task of sailing downwind with as much angle as I could bear, alternately powering then quickly depowering the rig, with my back foot in the opposite strap, too upright to stay continuously harnessed.  This was so inefficient that I had to tack 4 or 5 times coming back, just to maintain a comfortable distance from shore.

Then came the task of trying to find the launching/finishing site.  The whole coastline, as I was sailing, pretty much looked the same to me, especially as I dehydrated and fatigued.  But finally I saw kites, pinpointing the launch, and knew that my ordeal was nearly over.  It is always a challenge to beach larger windsurfing gear, and I was really hoping for help, especially because at this point, I was REALLY exhausted ....and sure enough, with more than a little help from my friends, I successfully timed and sailed my way through the surf  (thanks guys).

I considered kissing the beach, but instead just watched my board catch a gust and go flipping rail to rail down the beach.  I've never been happier to stand on dry land.

Don