s/v Mother Culture: 2013

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Beer Can Races on s/v Time Out

s/v Time Out on the right

A few weeks ago, Ben and I teamed up with our neighbors Ralph and Brigite, and friend Oliver, to compete in the Beer Can Races on their 26' Ranger, s/v Time Out. We came in 1st in our class that night. Ben has sailed with "Team Time Out" a few more times since and they've placed either first or second each time. Here are a few pictures of the race taken by various photographers who were out on the water at the time:

s/v Time Out rounding the buoy

s/v Time Out flying the spinnaker

s/v Time Out (in the forefront) - That's Ralph at the helm, Oliver in yellow, me in red, and Brigite up front. Ben must be hiding behind Ralph!

Ben and Ralph having a beer before the race begins

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Baysail

It has been quite a while since I last blogged. I finally graduated college and now I have a little more time to spare, so I thought maybe I'd give it another go. I can't promise that I'll keep it up but I figured I might as well give it the old college try. ;) In the last year and a half, Ben has been honing his sailing skills while I've become more and more fearful of the slant. Seriously, sometimes I think I hate sailing. Well, it's really more fear than hatred. My equilibrium does not appreciate the slant of a sailing boat. But I am a glutton for punishment... and I am too logical to let fear control me. So we sail. Our latest endeavor occurred on Friday. We set sail for La Playa. We intended to anchor for the weekend, but as we neared the mouth of the basin, Ben fired up the engine and as history would foretell, the engine flipped us the bird. Unsure if something was stuck in the prop or if the trouble was with the transmission, we flipped a bitch and headed home under sail. I know, I know... we could have tried anchoring under sail. But we didn't. We headed home and called in reinforcements to keep an eye out for us in case of emergency. Out on the field, there is some room for error when picking up your mooring under sail. But we live on the wall, which means if we f*** up, we chance hitting the rocks and destroying our home. Ben tried the engine one last time as we neared the ball and, lo and behold, that SOB fired up and we were moving forward. So we managed to get back on the ball all by our lonesomes. Here are a few pics of the trip: