All the hard work this past winter and spring seems to be paying off — we’ve gotten out for five sailing sessions of pure Tahoe perfection. After a wonky June with lots of thunderstorms and winds that were blowing dogs off chains (my pal Ancil said one storm blew 30-40 lawn chairs into the lake at Camp Richardson at the south end of the lake), things settled down and Debbie and I got in some great sailing in 10-12 knot breezes with gusts to 17, which is just about right for our little boat.

I had a little drama with the mooring buoy this spring. I noticed someone had shackled their shiny new wakeboarding boat to the buoy I’d legally leased, which was a little alarming, let me tell you. Evidently, a new homeowner in the area where we rent our buoy felt entitled to take a buoy, leave town for a month and deal with the consequences later. I have a photo showing me pointing out the offending craft (with my middle finger), but I’ll refrain from posting it here. Ancil offered to lend me his auger, but I declined. We have plenty of sharp knives suitable for cutting mooring lines aboard already. 🙂 Fortunately, we have a very cool lease-lord who helped get things squared away, offering us another of his buoys closer in to shore until the switch could be properly made. My favorite part was when the officious blonde lady (let’s call her Karen) with the clipboard in the kayak paddled over and flatly said the situation had changed in this mooring field and I wouldn’t be able to moor there at all next year. After reporting this exchange, my lease-lord texted me: “Don’t you love it when people are confidently wrong?”

This past Saturday, I single-handed up to Sugar Pine State Park and anchored next to Le Crapaud. Debbie had some obligations in town, so I lolled about on the hook and spent a little time enjoying virgin mango coladas (for me) with Ancil and his partner Tina. The moon came up and the lake was like a mill pond. I don’t think I’ve ever slept better aboard. Debbie drove up Sunday morning and I rowed into shore to pick her up. We put up our little boom tent and read books in the shade as the boat bobbed gently — and sometimes not so gently, due to all the speedboats. But, that’s summer at Tahoe and you take it as it comes. Later, I rowed Debbie back to shore and she drove home while I sailed a 17-knot breeze back to Mark Zuckerberg Bay (oops, I meant to say Hurricane Bay). Our pal Mark bought two adjacent properties at the north end of Hurricane last year (reportedly spending $70 million, which I calculate as three days’ wages for him), and we see him out on his eFoil board weaving around our anchorage on flat mornings. But I digress. On my sail back, the wind was right on the nose at 320º (which is my usual head-back heading), so I trimmed up everything tight and really couldn’t “turn the corner” until I was literaly at right angles to our buoy and 1/2 mile off. Magically, the wind veered south at the last moment and I was able to sail right up to the ball. Still shaking my head about that.

We’re headed out this afternoon for a sail and a meetup with fellow sailors where we’ll share our favorite Caribbean Rum Zing recipe and watch the alpenglow paint the Tahoe skies pink and orange. Debbie just pulled out the portable chess set, so I expect she’ll beat me like a red-haired stepchild at that game as the sun sets and the brilliant Milky Way appears.

My next post will likely be a GoPro video I’ve been working on … dang, those things are a lot of work (especially the editing part), so I hope it all comes together.

Until then, fair winds and smooth sailing, and thanks for following along! DB