NewSailingDiary

One would think that having more than one plate
of ice to sail on would be a good thing but as we
all found out today it can be the cause for undue
iceboater stress. With Walker, Burntland,
Chickawaukee, Sebago and God knows how many
other ponds wetting out and making ice in the
previous rainstorm the menu or should I say
venue was much more than the typical take it or
leave it plate that we normally are dealt from the
master of ice making.
Not wanting to drive for hours are options were
easily narrowed down to Walker versus Burntland.
Mike had reported grade 9 ice yep thats right I'll
type it again "Grade 9 Ice" on
Burntland and I had reported 5-6 grade ice on
Walker due to washboardy, frozen, slush mounds
that didn't wet out. Those of us that have sailed
Burntland know it is small and has the most
unfriendly winds we have ever encountered.
Since turning in our ice reports and knowing that
we could sail today my self centered iceboater
brain has been locked on one track. Rattle or
smooth, rattle or smooth, violent gusts or big
ice, rattle or smooth, rigging ripping gusts and
wild spinouts or 2 rattley miles with out tacking.
Calls to the other guys hoping for some arm
twisting towards one pond or the other proved to
be no help with the head game.
At 7:15 this morning the grade 9 ice got the
best of me and we were off. If Bonnie, Larry and
I could make the 10 mile pothole ridden drive
with out ruining our boats and trailers we would
meet up with Mike and his Bo Derek like piece of
ice.
Bo Derek could have been standing naked at the
launch ramp and I would have cared less as I ran
down the ramp , stomped my feet and skuffed
my heels on that grade 9 ice. It was like glass
with the exception of a few runner tracks from
the guy that got there ahead of me .
Before getting the trailer backed up to the ice
our inhouse daredevil sailor looking a bit rattled
and shaken shared with us his most eventful first
sail down the pond. Mike said he rigged up,
hooked up and zipped down the pond in a howling
NE gust, no doubt in absolute ecstasy and silence
on the zamboni like ice, only to realize at the far
end that his boat did not want to come about.
Mike said releasing the sail only allowed it to fill
with more wind and make matters worse. He said
as he was doing a 3 point skid at warp speed and
having those final split second thoughts about
bailing out, his runners caught some crust along
the treeline and gave him traction enough to
come about with no room to spare. Mike used
some bad words while describing this event but
I'll keep this story rated at PG. That being said I
thought to myself that since I sharpened both
our runners that I would be in the same boat.
Bonnie, Larry and I proceeded to rig while Mike
took off to put more edge on his runners.While
rigging the howling NE wind had shifted more to
the NW and calmed down a bit. Probably due to
the change in tide. We set out some cones in an
oval pattern that allowed us to sail the longest
part of the 24 acre pond. We got in a couple
hours of decent sailing on the best ice I have
been on since last season at Plymouth Pond. We
got hammered by the Burntland gust holes but it
was managable.
It was only a matter of time before wind
managment became the theme of the day as the
NW winds picked up and were multiplied many
times over in the all to familiar tornado holes
around the pond. If you didn't stick your boat in a
tornado hole and get slung down the pond you
got no wind at all. You could be drifting down the
pond barely making headway and a guy could be
a 100' away skidding sideways and hiking at the
same time. Thats the price we had to pay for a
nice piece of ice. Howling runners were the
telltale noises one heard before spinning out if
the sheet was not feathered . Hiking, howling,
gusting and a little under helmet swearing all
became familiar sounds. We had a rash of
runaway boats today as they hopped off the ice
and overcame thier parking brakes. I got my fill
of the tornado holes and ran for the trailer to put
on a smaller sail. As I was coming back from my
trailer Crazy Larry landed his craft sideways in a
patch of small bushes next to the ramp and
decided to take a break. Bonnie and Mike held her
down with thier full sized sails and Larry and I
shared Yellow Fever for the remainder of the day
rigged with a storm sail. As Crazy Larry found out
Yellow Fever hikes quite well with the storm sail
on it. Hopes for a little less wind faded as the
afternoon tide changed with no let up. Cold and
happy that everything and everyone was still in
one piece we decided to call it a day and
consider it a great outing. Hopefully that Bo
Derek ice will stay with us for awhile.