Last Man Standing
Join Date: Aug 2008
Thanked 177 Times in 170 Posts
Rep Power: 10
Now - to more important matters. I was out yesterday for a pretty mellow sail (8-10) after climbing the mast - which was an interesting time in itself. Sun was just starting to set and we were headed back to the marina.
This is about the time that the big stinkpots start heading in from Hippy Hollow (the buck naked "beach") after a day of drinking and nakeding. I'm on a port tack moving at about 4 knots as the wind was dying down. Both sails are flying.
A 40' Sea Ray is cutting a straight line up the channel at about 10 knots - as I'm moving across on my tack. About 200 yards out he hits is horn. Cool, I see you.
Now, if all things hold, we are on a collision course. I fall off a bit to try to clear his path sooner. He keeps coming. 80 yards - and he's still closing - not changing course at all. He hits his horn again - longer this time. Still on a collision course.
I pull my horn out an blast him one. No change in direction. So, it's chicken. Part of me wants to play - the other part of me thinks about Bubb's story.
I tack 180 and get out of his way. He never blinks an eye.
I don't know whether to hate him or admire him.
S/V Dawn Treader - 1989 Hunter Legend 40
Last edited by smackdaddy; 11-16-2009 at 12:18 PM.