Sea Dogs and Whackopractors

Saturday was a good day for a cruise south. I hadn't been to Gig Harbor in ages, and I hadn't been under the new Tacoma Narrows Bridge since it opened a year ago, so off we went.
As I had hoped, Farley is becoming a great sea dog. Angus was never all that comfortable on my boat, having had his first boating experience relatively late in life.

On Friday we raced in the second-last race of the series. I think we're solidly in fourth place in our class. We might be able to move up one place if we beat 3rd place Wings in the next race. We've kept the basic crew together all year, and we're getting pretty good at the basics. On Friday's race, to round the downwind mark, we set the jib on the approach, tacked around the mark, and dropped the chute, all in quick succession. If we would have tried that maneuver a couple of months ago, we would have ended up with a giant mess of tangled lines and frayed nerves. I even felt confident enough on this race to take my camera on deck to get a couple of shots during the race.





It's hard to get any perspective on the spinnaker from the deck of the boat, but here it is. Mike's spinnaker is affectionately known as Frankenchute due to the many repairs and patches it's had to undergo over the years.
















Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I went to a crackopractor or whackopractor or whatever you want to call the practitioners of that arcane and mysterious art. Even though lots of people swear by these guys, I've always considered them just a cut above witch doctors. Group Health couldn't get me into see a physical therapist until next week (I wonder what the waiting time in Canada is), so in desperation to do something about my aching back, I made an appointment and got in to see one yesterday. The "doc" took x-rays in the morning, and later that afternoon I went back to see him after he'd had a chance to evaluate the results. As I expected, my spine, hips, back and neck are contorted pretzels. (Has a chiropractor has ever found anyone with a relatively straight back?) Quasimodo's got nothing on me. The next step was my "adjustment." The way that the "doc" had me wrapped up in his arms, I thought that he was practicing a submission hold for his next wrestling match. Then he threw his weight into the hold, and instantly realized the difference between a "force" and a "non-force" chiropractor. This guy is definitely in the former category. The crack in my back and the resulting pain did not result in an instant cure. In fact, I had a hell of a time trying to get comfortable enough to get to sleep last night. I have another appointment this afternoon, and I've given the otherwise-pleasant witch doctor a week to work his magic.

I'll keep you posted.