Temper Temper

Temper Temper

I was having a tantrum that would do any kindergartener proud. I had been pushing hard to keep boat speed up in changeable conditions. That translates to very little sleep and cold meals. It looked to be worth it and working out when we were overtaken by a series of showers that sucked whatever wind there was to who knows where.

My bag of sail handling tricks empty, my patience worn thin, and my temper short the autopilot remote decided now would be a good time to quit. Somewhere in the universe, a camel driver loaded one straw too many.

To no one in particular I began a chain of expletives that welled up from some primordial place no one likes to talk about. Mid-stream, this albatross glides alongside and plops down in Seaburban’s wake. There’s not enough wind to make flying around looking for a meal pay. Even this aeronautical wonder knows when to quit. He and I though worlds apart are suddenly one and the same: Becalmed. Much to his credit, he is taking it much better than I.

My temper extinguished, I raced for the iPad before we drift apart. He stayed with us, keeping pace as we drifted west. When the wind returned, he unfolded his wings, lifted off and began anew.

This guy, this high-aspect ratio, low Reynolds number, double-dihedral masterpiece knows there are some things you can control and some things you cannot. I could learn a thing or two from him.

Follow my tracks in real-time:
https://bit.ly/svseaburban