Bluesky account, SUPdate, and new GPS watch

Well, gee. It has been a while since I've made a blog post. Blogs are so "old internet" now. Gears are churning in my mind, though, and I'm thinking that maybe old internet has some advantages over the extremely algorithm-driven, addictive, doom-scrolling-for-profit, orchestrated-and-manipulated-by-oligarchs-aligned-with-fascists disaster that is "new internet." 

Towards that end I've created an account on supposedly-less-worse-than-facebook-and-twitter/X social media platform "bluesky" - https://bsky.app/profile/jamesgdouglass.bsky.social

Bluesky doesn't allow posts more than 300 words, but that could kind of work out if I put long rants and picture-filled posts here on my blog, and just link to them on bluesky. Unlike facebook, I think bluesky doesn't deprioritize posts linking to outside websites. 

As for personal news, I've been working a lot trying to keep up with my teaching and research responsibilities at FGCU and I haven't been able to do as much watersports as I would like. I am still paddleboarding at least once a week, though, and I've changed paddleboards. Unlike the pre-hurricane-Ian days when I lived in a house with a shed and could store lots of toys, I am now limited to what I can store permanently in my 2009 Chrysler Town & Country mini-van, and one 14' SUP board that I store on top of the kitchen cabinets with a little rack system that probably voids the security deposit on the one-bedroom apartment I live in with Rhonda. 

The 14' SUP I originally had on top of the cabinets was a 23" wide Riviera RP raceboard from 2017. It was really beat up and many-times repaired from injuries sustained even prior to 2022's Hurricane Ian. Anyway, I finally decided to give it away after getting frustrated with how much trouble I had staying on it in the rough water 2024 Key West Classic race. After all, I still had a slower but more seaworthy 14'x27.25" Fanatic Falcon 2014 raceboard collecting dust in my buddy Serge's backyard shipping container storage unit. So the Riviera went away and I'm now exclusively using the big red Fanatic, which is also windsurfable, by the way, because of the mast track I installed in it a long time ago. 

My favorite paddle route is circumnavigating Lover's Key. It's an annoyingly long, trafficky drive from where I live now to Lover's Key, but I know I can always get a dirt parking spot there, and it's free. There's a closer place where I can get in the water (the Estero River), but flat water paddling is comparatively boring, and paddling the wide Fanatic in flat water is kind of sad because it's significantly slower than the narrow Riviera was. If I'm in bumpy water or waves I don't notice that.

Anyway, in December I gave myself a little present to help me motivate and track my watersports and other exercise. It's a "Garmin Instinct Solar" GPS watch. The GPS isn't on all the time- just when you turn it on to track an activity, but it has motion sensors and a heart rate sensor that ARE on all the time, so if I want to see what my heart rate was when I was asleep, or something, I can look at that data via a bluetooth wireless connection between the watch and my smartphone. (Kind of creepy, but whatever.) The heart rate monitor in the watch gets what I think is accurate data when I'm jogging, based on what I know my maximum heart rate is from prior monitoring with chest band HR monitors. However, the HR monitor in the watch gives total garbage data during standup paddling. I don't know if it's because of the different wrist motion, or water conductivity, or what. 

I have yet to try using the watch for "intervals" type workouts of the sort I used to use my "SUP Speedcoach" GPS for, but the watch beeps and buzzes every time I complete a mile, so I can glance at my wrist and see how my pace was for each mile paddled or jogged. If anyone else has some tips for getting the most out of this type of wrist GPS for SUP training, I would love to hear those. 

Murphy's Mercy

According to "Murphy's Law", anything that CAN go wrong WILL go wrong, typically at the worst possible time.

As a serial owner of used American cars with 150,000+ miles, I am well acquainted with Murphy. For a couple months now I have been paranoid that he was about to break my el-cheapo minivan and strand me somewhere inconvenient. The Murphmeister certainly had plenty of opportunities to cause mischief. He could have struck at 10 pm on a Thursday while I was traveling a dark and twisty Maine road miles from anywhere, with no cell phone coverage. He might have attacked during morning rush hour as I headed to Northeastern University through one of Boston's endlessly long and narrow tunnels. And I'm truly amazed that he left me alone as I went back and forth between Lynn, Nahant, Salem, and Boston this weekend during my wonderful long-distance sweetheart's visit from Florida. Yes, merciful Murphy warned me he was coming with a low battery light Sunday afternoon, but he kept the van running all the way until Sunday evening, just five minutes after I dropped my darling off at the Logan Airport departure gate. He even chose to stall the van for me next to an open parking place by a subway stop, where I could wait for a tow truck in leisurely comfort.

Actually it wasn't all that leisurely since AAA and the first tow company they called screwed things up and they had to call a different tow company after I'd already been waiting two hours underdressed in the damp wind, causing a latent cold I'd been denying all weekend to bloom full force, but whatever. At least I got my weekend. And as of now I have a new alternator that works like a charm. So HA. :)

Fibersnap Booms (Rant)

Doh! Just as the summer doldrums were giving way to decent, 10-knot, after-work seabreezes, I broke my big Fiberspar boom. This makes it impossible to rig my big 9.8 msq sail. The max I can rig now is 6.6 msq, which means my planing threshold has gone up from ~9 knots to ~14 knots, which is not-unless-there's-a-hurricane wind this time of year in Florida.

This is the second boom I've broken since my re-entry into big-sail "formula" windsurfing earlier this summer. The first was no surprise, since it was an aluminum boom. The one yesterday was a carbon boom, but it was still no surprise, because I broke the same headpiece on another Fiberspar when I first got into formula in Virginia. Replacing it was a huge headache, which hastened my 2-year formula hiatus.

I think the Fiberspar headpieces, which are the same for small booms as for big booms, just aren't strong enough for the stress of handling jumbo 9.0 - 12.5 msq sails. Some people, after they buy a formula boom, painstakingly reinforce the headpiece with several layers of expensive carbon fiber cloth. Aaaghhhhh... it gives me a headache just thinking about it. Why don't they make them strong enough in the first place? They're definitely expensive enough.

The only thing that makes me feel a little better is that I got this boom relatively cheap, used, for $200, and it served me for a dozen or so sweet-ass sessions on my formula board and 9.8 sail. Ironically, a new headpiece would cost me about the same as the boom did. An entirely new boom would be $700 - $1000, though. Insane. I'll figure out something, but might have to put aside my formula dreams for another couple paychecks.

In related news, my stylish minivan now has non-bald tires, fresh brakes, and four hubcaps. The speedometer and A/C still only work when they feel like it.

Multimeters are Cool; Used Minivans are Not

My dad is an electrical / mechanical / power-systems engineer who has taught me about volts, amps, ohms, etc. about once a year since I was a baby. He needs to keep reminding me because my knowledge of the subject fades faster than a cheap alkaline battery in a GoPro Helmet Camera.

Unlike a battery, though, which fades from overuse, my memory of electrical stuff fades from lack of use. Maybe that's what Dad was trying to prevent when he bought me a digital multimeter for my 30th birthday this year. It was apropos considering the slew of electrical problems I'd been having with my station wagon. When I replaced that lemon of a car with a less-old minivan last week I was looking forward to forgetting everything about electricity once again. I think you can see where this is going...

Today the @#$% minivan wouldn't start! At least not until I turned off the radio and the fan, took several deep breaths, and turned the key juuuust right. So I backed the car into my driveway in an easy-to-jumpstart-if-necessary position, took my multimeter out of the box for the first time, and called Pa' for my yearly electrical engineering refresher course. Here's what he said I should do to see if there's something wrong with the battery, cables, or charging system:

1. Set the multimeter to volts and measure the voltage across the battery terminals when the car is not running. It should be around 12.5. (It was.)
2. Have someone turn the key to start the car while you continue measuring the voltage. If it drops significantly below 12.5, like down to around 9, that's bad. (It didn't.)
3. Continue to measure the voltage when the car is running. It should be 14 or more to be properly charging the battery. (Mine was 13.55. That might mean the alternator [the thing that charges the battery] isn't working quite right.)
4. If the voltage is kinda low when the car is idling, rev the engine a bit and see if that brings it above 14. (I haven't tried that yet since I sent my car-starting assistant home before Dad recommended that test.)
5. Also, while the car is running, test if the battery cables are bad by putting the black (-) multimeter terminal on the bare metal of the engine and the red (+) one on the cable attaching to the (+) battery terminal. If that's lower than the voltage just across the battery terminals, there might be too much resistance in the cables. (It wasn't.)

Conclusions:

1. My battery and cables are probably ok but my alternator might be going. I hope the alternator IS bad, because if it's not there could be a harder-to-diagnose and more-expensive-to-fix problem with the electrical system, putting me in the same place I was with my old car last year when its hellish behavior began.
2. I might actually remember about electricity now, thanks to all this hands-on learning experience.
3. I will probably stall on the side of the road tomorrow.

New Set of Wheels + Windsurf Stuff for Sale

My 1995 Ford Escort wagon finally died for good yesterday, after two failed resuscitations earlier in the week. Now it's rusting on the side of US-1, where its last bit of rolling inertia delivered it to a random resting place in front of the Manatee Mobile Home and Trailer Park. (So Florida.) The outside has been stripped of my boards, and the roof-rack has been removed, leaving two sticky-but-clean spots outlined in dust. The inside has been emptied of my sails and booms, and of countless little tools and toys in their sandy bags and boxes.

And now, after a long, long day, I have procured a replacement vehicle from Bill Schultz Chevrolet, to the tune of $2150. Here's what $2150 gets you...

2000 Plymouth Voyager Minivan

Pros:
1) Works.
2) Paid for.
3) Holds all windsurf gear except longboard.
4) Removable folding seats = living-room furniture
5) Tape deck.

Cons:
1) Will need $500+ work next month; tires, brakes, etc.
2) Speedometer permanently stuck at "0".
3) One missing hubcap.
4) Not compatible with my old roof-rack.
5) No warranty.
6) 160,000 miles.
7) Previous owner attached headliner felt with 1000s of staples in dizzying pattern.
8) Retro-coolness of vans doesn't apply to minivans.

Since I'm going to be a little tight from now until the end of August, I figure this would be a good time to remind you readers of some of the wind sport stuff I have for sale. (Pick-up only in treasure coast area):

1) 2004 Ezzy Wave Sail, 5.2 msq, green, dime-sized tear in non-load-bearing part of luff sleeve. $70.00 obo
2) 1997 Ezzy Wave Sail, 4.7 msq, yellow-orange, finger-length tear in non-load-bearing part of luff sleeve. $25.00 obo
3) 1999 Neil Pryde Z1 Race Sail, 8.7 msq, orange, lots of tape. $5.00 or free if you buy one of the other sails.
4) Brand-new Neil-Pryde sail quiver bag, expandable to hold any size sails plus whatever else you want to put in it. $30.00
5) Trainer foil-kite, 4.0 msq. $50.00 with bar and lines.
6) 20" fixed harness lines (set of two). $6.00
7) Chinook mast base extension. 25 cm adjustable. $10.00

Jesus License Plates: Only in Florida

I'm getting the distinct impression that Florida's elected representatives are a bunch of morons. I mean, Jesus, haven't they ever heard of separation of church and state?

The article is here. The really sucky thing about this and the other proposed religious plates is that the money from their sales wouldn't even go into general Florida funds that could be used for the public good. It would go to sketchy private charities like "Faith in Teaching" that are attempting to stupify science education by teaching creationism instead of evolution.

IMHO the whole specialty plate thing is dumb. I think government programs should be funded by normal taxes, not weird stuff like lotteries and license plates. And private charities and lobby groups should solicit on their own, without the endorsement of the state. There should just be one, boring license plate per state. If you want your car's ass end to say you love Jesus, or manatees, or cops, or whatever, just use a bumper sticker.

Inlet to Inlet Race Report

Last weekend's "Inlet to Inlet" long-distance windsurfing race, organized by Ron and Sue Kern of Fort Lauderdale, was the first race I ever did in Florida. Not only was it a great challenge, but it was a great introduction to the groovy community of sailors in South Florida.

I almost didn't make it down from Fort Pierce because of car troubles. As it was, I limped into the Fort Lauderdale Beach parking lot with the battery light flashing and a weird humming coming from the dash. I scrubbed the battery terminals and tried to put car-anxiety out of mind to make room for race anxiety.

There were 19 other competitors at the beach, mostly formula racers, but with Mike Rayl on a Kona longboard (like me), and Beth Powell on a mistral one-design longboard. The winds were light from the NNW at first, but at noon they clocked around to NE and surged to a generous 20 mph. The chop and waves also swelled to formidable size. Amidst the pre-race excitement I realized I'd forgotton my harness back in the shower at home. Damn! Luckily, Alex Morales, who is famous for escaping from Cuba on a windsurf, lent me one, and Peter Ifju, a famous University of Florida professor and high-tech fin maker, lent me a harness hook.

I set up my Kona with the 46 cm stock fin, and rigged a 7.8 Aerotech Air-X, which is currently my largest sail. I left the footstraps in the inboard position where I keep them for freeriding / waveriding, but tightened them a lot to put my heels further out on the rail. I screwed two u-joints into the mast track in case one broke and so I could switch the position forward or backwards depending on conditions.

Getting out through the breaking waves was tough, especially for the formula riders with their long fins that would snag on the sandbar. About 50% of the attrition occured during that stage, before the race even started. Poor Farrah Hall had a brand new 9.0 KA formula sail rigged but broke her mast in two places and was really bummed that she didn't get to race. I think something similar happened to her Olympian rival, Nancy Rios, who had rigged her RS:X Olympic board and sail. I got off the beach ok, but immediately had control problems with my sail because one of the boom cuffs was slipping. I jumped off in the water and fixed it, but was still jittery and uncomfortable using my big gear in the heavy conditions.

Once away from the chaos of the starting line I got a better feel for the conditions and my gear, and got dialed in to the routine of taking long tacks upwind towards the barely-visible Hillsboro lighthouse. The surviving formula sailors were way ahead, but I was close with the other longboard riders, whose presence motivated me to keep pushing. I'd never before raced a Kona in conditions where sailing without the daggerboard was the most efficient way upwind, but it seemed to work pretty well in the strong breeze. I started to get ahead of Mike, but Beth was blazing a high-line with the daggerboard down on her raceboard, and she pulled away from both of us.

Getting to the upwind mark was actually kind of fun, working past row after row of cartoonish hotels and condos, and watching flying fish scatter away from the crashing bow of the Kona board. Finally, I rounded the Hillsboro Inlet marker, jumped off to move my mast base all the way back, then went barreling downwind. The waves were really getting huge, and when you were sliding obliquely down a swell the acceleration from both wind and water power was crazy. I saw Beth Powell struggling not far south of the Hillsboro marker and gleefully zipped past. Mike Rayl caught up with me, and we traded places a few times as each of us fought fear and fatigue to stay speedy. Eventually, I opted for a slower, deeper downwind line with my back foot in the leeward strap, and watched Mike dissappear ahead of me and further out to sea. That helped me rest my legs and stay in control, but I still had a couple of oh-shit moments coping with the lumps and bumps out there. I found the Port Everglades Marker right where it was supposed to be, 11.5 miles South of the Hillsboro Inlet marker and about 2 miles from shore. I rounded with relief, and made the final beeline for the beach. A bunch of guys jumped into the water to help save my gear from destruction in the break, thank goodness. Onshore I learned I was the fourth finisher, having somehow made it past Mike on the downwind. Mike arrived a few minutes later, but said he had been really smacked-down by the conditions far offshore and had opted to come straight in instead of rounding the Port Everglades buoy. That meant I was 4th overall and the only longboard rider who finished the whole course. YES! The good vibes continued though the prize-giving ceremony, the miraculous temporary recovery of my car battery, and the sweet pizza party at Ron and Sue's house. Woo hoo!

I'll definitely be back.

Full Race Results and Times: http://www.ronkern.com/2008_Results.htm
...

The Way of the Future

"MCMINNVILLE, Tenn. (AP) - High gas prices have driven a Warren County farmer and his sons to hitch a tractor rake to a pair of mules to gather hay from their fields. T.R. Raymond bought Dolly and Molly at the Dixon mule sale last year. Son Danny Raymond trained them and also modified the tractor rake so the mules could pull it. T.R. Raymond says the mules are slower than a petroleum-powered tractor, but there are benefits.

"This fuel's so high, you can't afford it," he said. "We can feed these mules cheaper than we can buy fuel. That's the truth."

And Danny Raymond says he just likes using the mules around the farm.

"We've been using them quite a bit," he said.

Brother Robert Raymond added, "It's the way of the future.""

With some predicting gas prices to rise to $12-$15 per gallon, I may be following Robert Raymond's lead and investing in some mules to pull my windsurfs. Hydrogen fuel cell vehicles? Heck, just give me a mule cell vehicle! At least they don't have radiators.

Am I the only one who thinks driving on the beach is silly?

**UPDATE- Wow, this post has attracted more attention than I expected, especially now that it's getting linked to from several recreational fishing forums. Originally it was just an expression of my personal opinion about beach driving; I'd rather we drove on the road and walked on the beach. I didn't mean to imply that I categorically support all aspects of the National Park Service's current obx beach closure plan. However, because of the strong response, I've done my best to weigh in, fairly, with regards to the NPS plan in the comments section. Please read the other comments and my replies before adding your own. I will do my best to respond to everyone, but will give priority to non-anonymous posters.**

**Also, FYI, I love fishing. Anyone who knew me growing up can attest to how obsessed with it I can be. So just because I characterize beach driving fishermen as "whiners" in the next paragraph doesn't mean that I'm down on fishing itself. I think it's a great way for all ages to get out and learn about nature and stuff.**

[There used to be a photo here of trucks driving on the beach in Hatteras.]

It seems like everybody is freaking out now about the proposed closing of some Outer Banks beaches to off-road vehicles to protect nesting birds and turtles. The loudest whiners are the recreational fishermen, who will apparently shrivel up and die if they are forced to walk more than 20 feet from their 4x4s to reach the water. Some people in the windsurf / surf / kiteboarding community are pretty upset too, because the closures will make it harder for them to launch from certain "secret spots" on the oceanfront. And there is concern among local businesses that the beach-driving prohibition will reduce tourism revenues.

Most of the perspectives on this that I have read so far in the blogosphere have been pro 4x4, so I thought I would share my own, alternative perspective. Don't hate me.

1. Beach driving is tacky.

In a vast and sparsely populated wilderness you can blow stuff up, chop things down, roar around in all manner of vehicles, and shoot or hook just about any critter that wanders by without causing irreparable harm to the environment or bothering your neighbors. Needless to say, the Outer Banks are no longer such a place; the islands are shrinking while human development on them is growing. Unfortunately some mindsets and traditions persist from the free-for-all wilderness days; namely, beach driving mania. I'm sure it was fun back in the day when it wasn't so crowded, but now it's just cheesy and obnoxious. With paved roads that go almost everywhere, and numerous parking and public access areas, even piers and boardwalks for the disabled, nobody really NEEDS to drive on the beach to get a decent fishing, sunbathing, or boardsports experience.

2. Beach driving really does put cute endangered species at risk of extinction.

The environmental impact of beach driving is not just propaganda from "eco nazis". Animals are significantly less likely to nest, and less likely to successfully produce young when they do nest, in areas where driving is allowed. It's not the sweet, dumb birds and turtles' fault that they need to nest on the beach. (Which is why people who blame the animals are assholes and I will never stop at a surf shop that has THIS stupid sticker on the door.) It's just that the critters evolved over millions of years to specialize in a certain type of beach and dune habitat, and now they can't live without it. While both people and animals want the same areas, only the critters actually NEED them to survive. And I'm not just talking about the survival of individuals; were talking about extinction, at least in the case of the much-maligned Atlantic Piping Plover (Charadrius melodus). So, I think we have an ethical obligation to set aside adequate areas for the beach-dependent wildlife, even if it's moderately inconvenient for us.

We can adapt. People have been frolicking and fishing on beaches for thousands of years, but the dumb idea that we need giant motor vehicles for our beach play has only been around for a handful of decades. It's time to go retro and put our toes, not our tires, in the sand again.

Sometimes It All Works Out

Taking a windsurfing session is a gamble with high stakes. You get adrenaline pumping ecstasy if you score; lost time and money if you miss the wind. Yesterday I hit it just right at Carmine Island on the York River.

I happened to sail precisely when the wind was strongest, between 11 am and 1:30 pm, using a tiny, 4.2 meter squared sail. (It was a little windier at Carmine Island than the Coast Guard Station where the wind is measured, but the trend was the same.)

Around noon a flame-orange Volvo station wagon with darkly tinted windows pulled up to the launch site.

It was "Gloucesterfarian" Paul Dovel, the perpetually-stoked windsurfer turned kiter. I helped him set-up his 9 meter squared kite. We barely avoided disaster launching it because 2 of the kite's 4 lines were reversed, sending it into uncontrollable spirals across the water. Paul was yelling, "Please grab it! Oh God, PLEASE PLEASE grab it!" as it lurched towards a rock bulkhead. But I wouldn't go near it until it settled down enough to assuage my legitimate fear of being entangled and strangulated / dismembered by the flailing bridle lines. Yikes! Eventually I did get the kite, Paul fixed the lines, and we rode for a short while before the wind dropped and I went back to work.