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|Rick at the helm. First day, full of energy.|
|Mike at the helm. Second day, good winds. A nice 6.5 knot run.|
|We were sailing from Sand toward Bayfield by way of the North Channel. Here we were just past Raspberry lighthouse.|
|Good winds, this is probably what we looked like. This was a pretty little yellow boat that we traded tacks with.|
|Food is critical to a good day on the water. There are steaks in there.
|Of course, if you were digging deep looking for something solid, injuries could occur. We had lotsa ice.|
|So, where did we leave those life jackets? This experiment in instability proved that two unstable dingbats in a dinghy was two too many.
The rescue operation was launched immediately. With a kayak, Bruce tried towing the dingy with ex-passengers in tow.
Another vessel sent over a motorized dinghy, which tried pushing ours. We called that off right away.
Debris field was small.
|Nothing like facing death-in-a-dinghy to form even stronger bonds of buddy-hood. Well, maybe not death, more like eternal razzing.|
|Mike's back was acting up, so we called in the corpsman. He applied the latest in modern medical chants.
Apparently he did not read the "uniform of the day" posting.
|Jeez, duty at the helm, leading an assault on the beach, a tour as corpsman. Sometimes a guy's just gotta rest.
This was just before Mike did a nice "coming about" from port tack to a starboard tack that pretty much booted Rick to the floor.