Tate and I continue to trade our suits, tools and rickety old bow pulpits for time outdoors aboard Quest for the Wednesday night races. It’s pretty amazing but no matter what troubles and complex issues I’ve dealt with while boxed in four walls at work, as soon as I get outside on the deck of a sailboat they seem to lighten and fly away with the breeze. I imagine I’m not alone in that sentiment seeing all of the other eager sailors each week.
Boats beginning the race

Lately we’ve been with the spinnaker sailing fleet, lighting the horizon with the various colors of the wheel.
Spinnaker boats
Quest's spinnaker sail

Quest is a pretty slow boat (the slowest of all?) so near the start with the rest of the fleet is our only real “glory moment” before they speed ahead. Quarters can get pretty tight and lips awfully loose warning of boat collision repercussions. You need a thick skin for this sailing business apparently, which suits Tate’s Klingon side just fine. He gets so excited over all the ruckus I half expect him to go charging bow first on a starboard tack into a nearby boat just so he can yell STARBOARD and watch the reaction of the other skipper.
Boats rounding the marker

I got the most time so far working the spinnaker trim this past race, I liken it to flying a gigantic British kite, not sure how I feel about that, perhaps I should sew some stars onto Glenn’s sail in the dark of night.
Dani trimming the spinnaker

Not being outdone by puny sailboats the sky put on it’s own colorful display after a light sprinkling.
Rainbow over the horizon

The spinnaker races end sooner than the rest of the fleet since we can sail more on course without the need to tack back and forth, which ensures a short line at the hamburger grill and an open table, a fine way to end any weekday night.
Sailing spinnaker at sunset