Boxing Day

The FedEx tracking of John's shipment of my new board say I should have it in hand tomorrow morning. That will give me until Sunday to fit it and sail a couple of times before the boat is crated and shipped. Obviously fine tuning and tweaking the set-up will have to happen on site. I hope to be sailing in the Columbia River by the 5th. Today I also arranged payment for the round trip shipment of the boat through Seko - $11341.50, a far cry from the $4000+ that I paid to get the boat to Weymouth and back.

The new gantry with its forward canted rudder is working fine. I'm still waiting to fit the horizontal, but with the bottle screw coarse adjustment and the 20mm throw my hiking stick twist gives me, I should be able to set up pretty much any AoA on the rudder's foil. I will be bringing my old rudder and gantry as a back-up.

Also today my bike went to West Coast Sailing via FedEx surface. The cost to ship the bike to Portland by truck is way less that I would pay to bring it along on the plane, about by the order of magnitude in the difference in shipping the boat via surface or air.

Here's Joan Baez

The Boxer, by Paul Simon (1968)

I am just a poor boy and my story's seldom told
I've squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises
All lies and jest, still the man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest, hmmmm

When I left my home and my family, I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station, runnin scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters, where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know

Li la li...

Asking only workman's wages, I come lookin' for a job, but I get no offers
Just a come on from the whores on 7th avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there

Now the years are rolling by me, they are rockin' even me
I am older than I once was, and younger than I'll be, that's not unusual
No it isn't strange, after changes upon changes, we are more or less the same
After changes we are more or less the same

Li la li...

And I'm laying out my winter clothes, wishing I was gone, goin' home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleedin' me, leadin' me to go home

In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him
'til he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
Yes he still remains

Li la li...