NAC Wednesday

1600 Racing cancelled for the day, no races sailed. More storms, heavy rain, etc. Computer is a giant pain in the ass...

Hurricane Alex has seriously put a damper on things here in Bay Waveland. Rain seems to be the theme as the day starts with it, breaks for a bit, then starts again. Missy and Lexi have missed out on longer morning walks so far, but we were treated to Chef John and Susan’s delicious breakfast burritos Wednesday am, since we have a 1:00 start time.
At the club, thunder accompanied Clinton taking down the postponement flag (a sign, perhaps?). Some of us remained on land, and it turned out to be ok, since the brave ones returned shortly, beaten back by another band of storms. Hoist helpers were ready at moment’s notice to assist with launching and hoisting boats back on trailers. This is a serious task, as much of the activity at the hoist takes place during thunder storms! The guys were great. They would assist 50 or so boats in and out on one hoist and one ramp, in crazy conditions with amazingly good humor. Dave and I decided it was a good thing we brought the spray tops. Can’t believe we even thought about leaving them home.

While talk of Bloody Marys in NO continued, Bushwhackers and Margaritas at the club sufficed. Henry Picco had recommended a restaurant,Rickey’s, earlier in the week, and we decided on that for dinner. Our house joined Harry, Carrie and Caroline Berger, Larry Taggert, and Mel, Bill, and Courtney, and Jeff and Amy there. Good food, good stories, good times. The conversation drifted to talking about stuff that freaks us out and this led to laughter that made our stomachs and cheeks hurt, and brought tears to our eyes. Watch out for critters in the boat, Ryan!

Start time moved to 10 ish tomorrow.

OK Amy to the rescue with another awesome recap of today;

Flying Scots NACs
Wednesday, June 30, 2010

In Which We Stay On Shore…

The rain started early and lasted late -- and while the RC tried -- racing was just not gonna happen today.

The day in a nutshell: Lots of standing around and sighing. A ton of staring into the grey and stormy distance. Lots of dualing cell phones with tiny map displays full of bright red polka-dots and green bands. Plenty of discussion about whether it was time (yet? Is it? Is it time yet? Huh huh? Puleeeeze?) to head to New Orleans for Bloody Marys, lunch at Dave-Bolyard-recommended Red Devils, and dessert at Court of Three Sisters. Sigh.

Also a whole lot of speculation about what, in the name of all things holy and profane, was going to happen with the weather. And what in the world was Clinton Edwards carrying a shotgun for (at the skipper’s meeting this morning during a discussion of how to improve on-the-water communications, one of the competitors asked Clinton if he had a gun. NOW he does, and I suggest ain’t nobody going to give the PRO any lip. Not to his face if they know what’s good for him). It’s an 8-gauge, so that’s one big gun.

Some napped, including John Arris, who had lined up a row of dining room chairs and snoozed peacefully until he woke himself up by dream-hiking. The children agitated for more time in the pool. Most of the rest of us chatted, told stories of regattas past, ribbed one another about something or another. Josh Goldman, for instance, has been getting approximately seventeen times his daily ration of shit from Brian Hayes, although during a regatta, one’s ability to metabolize the stuff goes way, way up…

At around 3 or so, even though it looked steely and grey across the water, the postponement flag went down…Despite the thunderclap that sounded just as Clinton reached the flagpole. There was a scramble to launch and head out, only to be turned back to the harbor as the steely and grey storm-clouds began rolling toward us, growling, and the bridge disappeared, and everything got another good rinsing.

What else to report? Last night, we had a late dinner at a beach place in Pass Christian called Shaggy’s (I keep wanting to call it Scooby’s), which gave us a taste of how beautiful a beach-town they grow in Mississippi (Properly pronounced Ms. Zippy). Crawfish in pasta, oysters, and cold drinks. Locals and Flying Scotties elbow to elbow to elbow.

And now, while making good use of their free wifi, BTW, let me say how nice a venue this is, despite the weather: the yacht club of course, like just about everything in this part of the Gulf, was wiped clean by Katrina. They rebuilt the club up on pilings (sorry too wet to bring the camera out), with a big open floorplan that is very pleasant for lounging. Plus, they have not just plentiful hot water supplies in the showers, but big bottles of yummy-smelling beauty products. Jeff and I emerged clean, warm, and sweetly-scented, with no particular plans for the evening, though I suppose dinner is recommended.

Tomorrow’s forecast: Dave Thinel was happy to remind me is down to only 90% chance of rain. Excellent! Clinton has a pocket full of shells, and evidently, a charged-up battery on the RC boat, which spent a long while at anchor while the steely and grey storm-clouds descended and a rescue boat was organized…Still no oil, thank goodness, and it’s good to know that Jim Cantore is in Padre Island, so we don’t expect Alex to visit us directly.