Doug, the prophet

A long time ago, on a continent far away, Doug wrote that home builders looking to buy foil kits are often disappointed because delivery always seems to be delayed until a couple of weeks before the worlds. I scoffed because I had a plan: buy a new M2 mainfoil from Amac to replace my trashed daggerboard. As autumn turned to winter and winter started to turn to spring, Andrew told me that he couldn't give me a delivery time. So, I bailed on plan A and found plan B: John Illet agreed to supply me with a gen3 FC mainfoil, for delivery about mid-June. Well, last night's mail found this note from John:

"The centerboard mould/plate only just went into the CNC machine this morning so I expect to finally have it in my hands early next week....You are still first in line and I plan to get it shipped in less than three weeks..."

So with shipping via Fedex and their four day guarantee, I may, may, possibly get my FC gen3 mainfoil by July 15th. Unfortunately, I need to have the boat crated by the 27th for shipment to Oregon. Plan C needs to be put into effect...

My original main foil strut is not repairable. I can lay up a second strut using John Z's mold and try to mate that new strut to my horizontal. Or I can spend lots of time low-riding...

This song is strangly appropriate. I especially like the line "Plan B is getting older everyday."



Plan C, by the Cross Town Cowboys

Here we are in worn out saddles
driving someone else’s cattle,
across the dusty trail and the lone prairie,
Now plan A didn’t work so well
and plan B, well, you can probably tell,
it’ll be a while before we get to plan C.

With Cookie’s call at the crack of dawn
we pull our dusty boots back on
check our rigs and head down to the c’herd.
Grab a meal and then be gone
we’ll be riding ‘til the daylight’s gone
Shining sure wearin’ off to plan B.

At night by the firelight
we talk of what it will be like
to move our stakes and buy a spread,
find some pretty girls to wed.
Plan C is sounding better every day.

All day long we listen on
as the trail boss sings his endless song:
Let’s saddle up and move out on our way!
There’s work to do to draw your pay,
you’ll be doing this ‘til you’re old and gray.
Plan B is gettin’ older every day.

At night by the firelight
we talk of what it would be like
to move our stakes and buy a spread,
find some pretty girls to wed.
Plan C is sounding better every day.

Back again in worn out saddles
driving someone else’s cattle,
across the dusty trail and the lone prairie,
Now plan A didn’t work so well
and plan B, well, you can probably tell,
it’ll be a while before we get to plan C.
I just can’t wait to get to plan C,
Oh I can’t wait to get to plan C.