Crashflow
exploring sound, surf, sailing, and images
Our planet’s shadow rides the moon. Tomorrow the invincible sun.
Winter camp at the beach
The wind was howling off-shore at 25 knots and the 2 foot ground swell was making its way to the beach in long, straight lines like soldier-brothers marching from some far-away front. As the lines finally crashed into the Brooklyn sand, the bright, white spray turned blood orange in the dying light and curled up and over the backs of the tumbling troops to rain gently on the no man’s land.
Last golden day before winter
Winter sailing
Happy Halloween Sailing - 7 knots, close hauled with two reefs in the main and a short genoa.
