We crossed the finish line on the downwind leg to none of the usual perfunctory fanfare from the race committee boat. No toot of the horn. No wave. Just the admonition that we had not sailed the proper course. The look on my face, even at several boat lengths, must have betrayed my stupefaction. The PRO Skip Kempf added that we had rounded the windward mark only 3 times, instead of 4.
No problem. Peter Burgard proposed doing another leg. Why not? I turned the boat around, sailed back through the finish line and headed off on a port tack toward the windward mark. Why not, indeed. It was, after all, a practice race. Peter and Kelsey Neal had practiced boat handling all day and I might as well practice sailing a proper course. So, we made our way back to the windward (a misnomer as it turns out) mark, rounded it set the whisker pole for the downwind (another misnomer) leg. Why the sudden outbreak of misnomers? Well, dear reader, the wind died. Not even a last gasp. It was sudden respiratory arrest. The RC called the race. No problem.
Time to open the Heinekens. No practice needed there. After we buttoned up Sloop Dogg in its slip, it was time to swim with Kelsey and Peter off the transom while rehydrating with said Heinekens. Cool down. Float. Relax. Perfect.