Another Messabout goes down in the history books. Yippee!!!     

A good time was had by all.

Dinghy Cruising's officialdom was in attendance in full force. Mikeeeee, the tireless moderator, was accompanied by his entourage; fiancée Vicki/Hippy Chick and son Jeremiah. "Maddog!", the feckless group owner, made the 18 hour drive from Philadelphia, only to stagger around in a sleep deprived stupor, mumbling semi coherently, before collapsing into his borrowed from Brian tent.

Celebrity members included Chuck Leinweber of Duckworks Magazine fame and his wife Sandra. The throngs of group regulars included John Bell, Ed Jones, and Bill Pecoul; a new member still in the first stage of the boatbuilding disease, you know, "I'm thinking about this boat, that boat, ..." (Sorry Bill, I was pretty bleary by the time we talked I hope you'll get The Usual Suspects to help you along with your decision making process.)

FRIDAY - Mikeeee and I were setting up the campsite when Chuck and Sandra arrived. We exchanged "Howdies" and started unloading boats. They brought two, "Caprice" their 26' Sharpie, and David Beede's 2001 Contest winner, a smaller sharpie. We hauled the little sharpie off Chuck's truck and plopped into the water. Chuck and Sandra went off to the boat ramp to launch Caprice. Meanwhile the rest of us tossed Boo Boo The Dinghy and Puffin into the drink in front of the campsite. In what seemed like no time at all, Caprice hauled up to the beached fleet, C&S hopped out and extended introductions commenced in earnest. Full scale boat inspections rambled from one craft to the next; everyone was duly impressed with everyone else's magnificent efforts.

"Ahoy the campsite!" John Bell and his miniature crew of two arrive by water on their AF4. John had some difficulty finding us. "I've been looking for you guys and 'The Big Blue tarp' for two hours." 

Apparently despite all of Mikeeee's preparations, the nincompoops at the front gate completely forgot who, what, where and when the Dinghy Cruising Messabout was. Another round of introductions and inspections ensued.

"Maddog!", ever the tactless lout, hollers, "Awright! That's enough of all this Hoohaa. Let's go sailing!" The Gathering marvels at my ability to cut right to the meat of the matter.

Launchings begin in less than inspirational wind conditions. The light breezes are temperamental and several of us, myself included, accept tows from the powered craft. Eventually we all get out to the more open and windier parts of the lake. Sailing and motoring fun abounds for several hours. The stinkpotters zip about hither and yon. Those of us of the cloth powered persuasion ponder why this place was called Wind Creek State Park. Eventually the sun begins reaching for the trees on the far shore and the fleet returns to the campsite.

More boat talk. Dinner. More boat talk. The rain storm builds slowly giving us time to gather the camping brik-a-brak and cram it all under Big Blue. After dinner the campfire was large enough and hot enough to overcome the rain and we all huddle around under umbrellas telling [what else?] more boat stories far into the night. All in all, a day very well spent.

SATURDAY - Huge breakfast and still more boat stories, followed by lackluster sailing conditions.
MIKEEEE: "It's all your fault 'Maddog!'. Everywhere you go the wind dies." Well Kids, this may be truer than I'd thought. Lake Lanier was supposed to be a sailing Mecca... that is, until I showed up. Must be something about me and boats-in-the-water. More on this later.

On the plus side, had I been thoroughly occupied ripping along, I wouldn't have time to "play" with Puffin's rig and study her advantages and drawbacks. I've come to the conclusion that as awe inspiring as Puffin's Junk rig is, it's just too damn complicated. The full deck is too cramped as well. Puffin is a work in progress. The sail with its battens will remain the same, but the rig will be converted to a balanced lug version, reducing the six running lines to the masthead to two; a halyard and a boom parrel [needed to take in the first reef up.] I'm still debating whether to fool with the luff hauling parrel.