Although I have lived in the Northeast for 20 years, I was born in the South and consider myself a Southerner. Growing up, I always got a kick out of what I’d call southern expressions. My father is chock full of them so I asked him to write down anything he could think of. He sat around with some friends the other night and came up with a doozy of a list. Priceless.
I’ve been trying to figure out how to relay this tale for a couple of days now. Still not sure I have it nailed, but the story must get out….bare with me as it’s a long and sordid tale.
A small cadre of your friendly neighborhood Dukes lit out this past Saturday for a tranquil day to be spent plying the waters of Peconic Bay on the Sea Senorita. It was a perfect stage….hot, sunny and with ample wind. We had our chippery laid up, plenty of water, a bandoleer of sailing juice and cruised on over to the protected slip where the sloop laid awaiting. It was an auspicious start, the sort of day that gives you a tingle in your stomach, an innate comfort. Like suckling at the teet of life; a knowledge that, yes son, good will ultimately triumph over evil, pie does trounce cake and god-damn-it the natural order of the universe works.
So you can imagine our surprise when we got to the slip and found no sign of the noble craft. No boat. No mast. No nothing.
It was like loosing your breaks at the top of the hill…pump pump pump, but nothing left save shrieking and ruin. Or the sinking doom of a refrigerator burglary most grievous; you’ve just gotten home after working 18 hours straight and, no matter where you look in the fridge, that last damn beer you had so skillfully camouflaged as a condiment is gone. And the flurkin store is long closed. It’s a sinkhole of despair that wrenches open one day just close enough to your split-level SoCal trackhouse to gobble up your garage and menace, day by day closer. Bringing with it the slow, tumbling, hungry certitude that this spring’s vinyl siding, and the new putting green you fought for and which now sits directly between you and the yawning maw, were not, after all, the wisest investments.
Well, maybe it wasn’t quite that horrible, but you get the picture - it sucked.
Now, when it comes to a general perpetration of laid-back grooviness, the Dukes always try to excel. But we can also spring into action like a scalded ferret when the situation requires. And spring we did. We scoured the cove, interviewed neighbors, interrogated gulls and very aggressively scratched our heads. “Would be an odd thing to steal”, we mused, “not worth a whole lot, no sails aboard and such”. And there’s no reason it could have run afoul of the local authorities; twas safely resting in our good chap WB’s slip, which is deeded to his house. And he sits on neighborhood home owner’s association, which can’t hurt.
Nope, we concluded, only one thing is possible: the Sea Senorita fell victim to a dastardly sabotage sortie by rival running club Los Compadres.
We’ve long known the feral deeds they’re capable of, with their speedy ways and their unflagging spirit. I’ve always suspected that news of a DOFB naval acquisition would be met with clear understanding. The Compadres are students of the game and would have to innately grasp the precipitous shift in the NYRR balance of power that only naval superiority could evince.
Yup, they must have paddled her out and scuttled her to protect themselves. Almost can’t blame them really.
So off we trundled to the Shelter Island Police Department to file a report and express our grievances. After some sleuthing we were even more astounded, appalled even, to learn that no, the Sea Senorita had not met with a fiery/wet end. In fact, she currently resided at a town mooring for floating scofflaws. Yup, the sweet ‘rita had been impounded!
It turns out that there was far less, ahem, clarity regarding the ‘rita’s accommodations than we understood to be the case. In point of fact, some nice lady is quite sure that the slip in question belongs to her. The floating constables had spent some days trying to ascertain to whom the boat belonged, but were unable to track us down on account of the visible registration being long expired and in another’s name (the Sea Senorita is sub 17′ and, having no external propulsion, is exempt from registration requirements under NY boating regulations).
To further complicate matters, the kind maritime officer Pete told us that he was unable to release the boat without solid proof of ownership. Title was far out of hand and we were momentarily stymied. “Hmmmm, well, Pete, do you have a computer at the station we can use for a second?” we asked. He said sure and we were admitted to the inner sanctum of the SIPD whereby we pulled up this very blog and drew his attention to the initial Stable Report post on the ‘rita.
There was no doubting the authenticity, heck, Fayth was there and Graham was even wearing the same jaunty hat. Pete chuckled and said that, while unorthodox, it might just do. We printed out a copy of the entry, stapled it to the complaint report and, after some further paperwork, an explanation of our creed & general dedication to good times, the pivotal naval role the Sea Senorita plays in said, not to mention a topical overview of the Dukes of Flatbush campaign for world domination, Pete was convinced that she did indeed belong to us and should be returned forthrightly. Or maybe it was the “FREE THE ‘RITA” chants that seemed to spontaneously ring out across hill and dale.
Whatever the cause of our emancipation, it was with thudding hearts that we watched the Sea Senorita freed from her solemn purgatory. Pete was a hell of a guy and expertly towed us out of the Deep Impound Cove (ed: so deep) and into the harbor. He also lent us an anchor on account of his concern for our maritime safety. All in all, he helped us make the best of a shiza situation so we could salvage our day with the only tonic that mattered: the windy, curative balm of a delightful sail.
The saga continues. Ownership determination of the slip will likely involve some wrangling on the part of our dear friend. I’ll be appearing in early August to relay the tale and plead for the leniency and good humor of the court. And, for now, the ‘rita is once again trailer-bound.
But the important part is that we have the ‘rita back. Our naval stratagem is preserved, we’ll live to sail another day and the very presence of this blog made it all possible. Res Firma Nitescere Descit
Imagine seeing a unicorn running through Times Square shooting $100 bills out of it’s magical money shooting horn. Pure bliss. That’s what watching this video is like…
I don’t know about you, but I’m a huge fan of taxidermy. I lived in Paris for a while and would regularly visit a legendary store named Deyrolle. Not only did they have every butterfly and bug imaginable, but also every bird and animal. And I’m talking about the full gamut - think Noah’s Ark - they even had a Golden Retriever if memory serves correct. If you are ever in Paris, this is an absolute must.
Deyrolle is right next to Saint Chappelle, known as the most beautiful room in the world. Just take a look - this is one of the most special places I’ve ever been.
I was also sent a link yesterday to Custom Creature Taxidermy, a shop that does “fantasy mounts”. I’m not sure what to say abut this so I’ll just show a few pictures. Wait, just one gag, “that squirrel is nuts!”
19 Jun
Posted by Birch as Food, Gadgets, Misc, Motorcycle, Training, Travel
Well, the DOFB more than survived it’s trip to Laconia for Bike Week ‘08. In fact, a damn fine time was had by all on a ride that was, as any proper bike adventure should be, filled with hilarity, calamities averted and plenty of cold suds. I’ll let the pictures do most of the talking, but first I’d just like to say a word or 100 about one particularly memorable event.
On the ride up I experienced one of those moments that every rider dreads, the kind of thing that puts a not in your gut just thinking about. I blew a front tire on the Merritt traveling at highway speed in failing light. Blowing a front shoe is one of those things you hear about happening but is by no means a regular occurrence. In fact, most of the folks I know who’ve been riding for a lifetime have never had their number come up. Let me tell you something - it is not a good time.
The tire went flat in about 10-15 seconds. Not with a bang or a pop…just all of the sudden the handling characteristics changed. At first subtly enough to wonder if it was odd pavement. And then, very quickly, the front forks started traveling about a foot in either direction, yanking the steering back, serpentining the bike and generally making it impossible to control. Mind you 75% of the braking on most bikes, and prob 90% on mine, is done with the front brake. So it was a pretty impossible situation to get the bike to rapidly slow while keeping it upright.
With mountains of luck, and a formation of Dukes behind me making sure I wasn’t struck by an oncoming car, I managed to keep the shiny side up and get to the shoulder. Where I no doubt would have remained if it weren’t for the formidable aid and patience of Sergeant Raymond LaPlante of the Orange PD. Ray pulled up on his police Harley to see what was doing and, over the course of the next 12 hours, not only helped us sort out local accommodations, sustenance/beverages and a great mechanic, but actually borrowed a trailer and, (on his morning off with his young son in tow!), pulled the wounded SuperBad from where I’d stashed her in the woods overnight to the shop for an early am fix that got us back on the road.
Ray’s effort not only saved our trip from ruin, it reminded all of us a bit about what’s so special about riding. That it’s appreciably different than traveling the roads in a steel cage. There’s a different connectedness to the experience of moving from place to place. You don’t always know what might happen (especially on an old bike), but that the journey in and of itself is adventure. And, more than anything else, the camaraderie of two wheels and that bikers look after one another.
So a hearty DOFB thanks and toast to Ray LaPlante. We sent many a cold beer to it’s maker this past weekend and damn it all if most of mine weren’t dedicated to his awesomeocity. Keep the rubber side down and looking forward to when we get to ride together!
The SuperBad being seen to by Art Handleman @ Valley Motorsports in Ansonia, CT. If you’re ever in a pinch with your machine in CT - Art’s the man to get you back on the road.
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Turns out - I had a “rust-based failure”. On older bikes that have seen weather at one point or another, the insides of the rims can get to rusting. Small metal filings eventually peel off and will, inevitably, roughly have their way with your tube. Here’s the shop tech de-rustifying the inside of my front rim.
To recap = small metal filings + rubber innertube + highway speed = bad. Put it on your list of shit to think about if you have a late model ride.
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Sergeant Ray and his awesome little boy Nathan flying the DOFB flag after dropping our side-show off at the shop. Nathan’s already bewitched by bikes and shows great promise. Rumor has it Ray may be heading up to NH this weekend as well. Boundless thanks to both of them for spending their morning sorting us out - couldn’t have done it without you fellahs. Have an awesome ride to the granite state Ray!
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Th big man…..Emperor of the Rage Hut, host for this Bike Week jaunt and head of the New Hampshire DOFB Chapter. Not a finer NH specimen to be found.
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Ride on Winni to the Wiers for a peek around, some grub and one (read:10) Margarita.
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Graham lends a helping hand to a parched Hombre
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2300 CC Triumph Rocket Sled….daaaaamn.
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Sweet trike art - Rowwwrrrrrr.
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The next day the Big Man took us on an epic ride up over the Sandwich Notch road, around through Waterville Valley and back over the Kank. Being dirt, recently graded and pretty steep in many places, The Notch road was especially challenging for some of the bikes. Fritz on the Yammie FJR1300 gets the hero’s salute for muscling that beast all the way through safely. That bike was built for smooth speed and she was more than a little ornery about the conditions. He rodeoed it though and, in exchange, was treated to a singular adventure through pristine NH back country. Nice work man.
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Big and mean never goes out of style in NH.
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DOFB, now with more Back Road Action!
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Juanito going native. The arm stripes perhaps suggest some sort of vestment. A man of the cloth? A country bishop perhaps?
Subsequently gathered evidence would seem to contravene this hypothesis.
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Graham loves it.
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Like Rodin’s thinker, this Duke too is made of granite. NH Chapter member (and lead carpenter) Whitney on his KLR. The KLR really is a perfect match for this guy and his natural surroundings.
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Top of the Kank….one of the best roads for riding on the East Coast and my personal favorite. The Dukes relay team will also be running the Kank this coming fall in the “Reach the Beach” 200+ mile relay. A painful reality not lost on those of us who’ll be on the squad as we climbed upward for 13 miles….
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Stop in Chocorua to visit the DOFB patron Saint - Ghee. Here’s she’s getting her annual ride around the block on the back of the Guzzer.
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Fritz on the Yammie. Can you believe he just took that 600lb beast over 20+ miles of mushy dirt logging roads?!?
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Heading back into the Wiers we start to get a taste of the action.
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Bike traffic for miles.
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Some local fauna met in traffic. The lady on the front claimed to have been arrested at last year’s bike week for mistakenly slugging a cop. Oops. Things can get a little dicey at Bike Week but come on ladies. These two sisters seemed a wee interested in a certain debonair Duke.
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This guy - can you believe it? No accounting for taste I suppose…
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Sunset at the rage Hut
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That pretty much concludes our trip. There were some other adventures had…a visit to the Franklin Girls’ natural lair, a few ‘old bike’ struggles with the Guzzi, electrical gremlins with the Triumph and many many coordinated high speed drifts to the curb of the highway for one dangling plate/about to be lost luggage/ atomic wedgie or another. But you’ll get that on these rolling thunder jobs.
Next year we’ll hope to have a bit more time and get a little more submersion into the epicenter of Bike Week. But I know I wouldn’t trade the ride we had on Saturday for much of anything - pure magic.
Thanks to everyone who was involved in making it happen this year…Ray and Chris especially!
10 Jun
Posted by Birch as Misc, Sailing, Sports, Uncategorized
It is with great pleasure that we can announce the successful launch and maiden voyage of the Dukes of Flatbush’s first naval vessel. Astute students of history, the DOFB understands that no entity, whether man, club or nation, can be truly complete without demonstrating superior naval power.
A bit like the Russians at Stalingrad, our rival running club Los Compadres continues to best us at area races with an attrition strategy based on overwhelming numbers and superior infantry training. However, all indications are that they have no “Unified Forces Plan”, and have left their BBQ, Motorcycle and Naval flanks completely undefended.
The Dukes already own the Grill and Motorcycle theaters; we’re confident that the addition of a stout sailing vessel will be the linchpin in our summer campaign of good-times domination.
Consider this fair notice Compadres, your speedy ways on the asphalt are no match for our comprehensive forces. We will express our dominance and steal your good times in a classic pincer movement that would do Hannibal proud.
In other boating news - the Dukes of Flatbush are pleased to announce partnership with the Hüskooler School of Sailing and Maritime Refreshment Research. With a staff of gifted instructors, the Hüskooler School offers a new paradigm in multidisciplinary seafaring education. Full certification is the goal for all students and a rigorous, Shelter Island based, 8 week class schedule will commence in early July. Please contact your administrator or neighborhood Moose Lodge for more information.
Proper technique from a lead instructor
CIT training session
Anti-pirate-stratagem role play
The Dukes of Flatbush tried their collective hand in agriculture last year, planting a veritable cornucopia of vegetables in our 16′x16′ Victory Garden.
Some vegetables fared better than others, but overall, the season was a great success. The picture below shows the last harvest taken at the end of September, just some of the “fruits” of our labor:
We decided to add a second bed to the Shambaugh Victory Garden in our continued quest for agri-domination. The new bed in the background is almost entirely dedicated to the art of the pepper. We have red bell, yellow bell, orange bell, cubanelle, jalapeno, poblano, cayenne, habanero and the list goes on and on. 24 plants in total. The only pepper we seem to be missing is the famed Harlan Pepper. Truly a ‘Best in Show’ varietal, we’ll see if we can’t turn one up.
This year is off to a great start - plenty of rain and bright sunshine. We’ll keep everyone updated on the Victory Garden progress…
23 May
Posted by Birch as BBQ, Baja 1000, Cars, Electronics, Food, Gadgets, Misc, Motorcycle, Music, NYC, Run, Sailing, Sports, Surfing, Training, Travel, Uncategorized
Sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do and, I guess, this is one of those times for our beloved admin, erstwhile coach, training partner extraordinaire and certified master of the grill Jeff. He’s packed up the shop, loaded what’s important and is redeploying to the left coast in search of fortune, adventure and cracked crab. As we all navigate the fog caused by last night’s sayonara wumpus, I’d just like to pause for the cause and give a hearty HUZZAH to our partner in crime.
Fare thee well sir. You’ll be sorely missed but we’ve every confidence you’ll quickly get to holdin’ it down out there and swelling the ranks of the Dukes West Coast Chapter. Write when you get work and we’ll come inspect your beachhead.
Vaya con dios y un gato en tu pantalones Amigo.
-mismanagement
This weekend saw the happy addition of another trusty steed to the Dukes stable. While floating in nature, this entry definitely satisfies all of the character requirements we’ve come to expect from the land-based fleet. Ladies & gents - I’m pleased to introduce the Sea Senor(ita).
The Sea Senor(ita) is a classic 17′ O’Day DaySailer. DaySailers are fantastic fun and this one should provide endless summer good-times plying the waters around Shelter Island. The craft was gifted to the these Dukes by a most-excellent family member who was tired of it gracing her lawn; a sort of God-Duke if you will.
She’s been sitting the better part of the last 10 years, so we have some work to do before launch. But working on a little sailboat in the sun is a damn fine way to pass the time. Plus this boat will be a floating classroom for a whole host of folks, little ones included, who are eagerly awaiting sailing lessons. With that to look forward to, we started out this past weekend with a solid first cleaning. I’m sure you’ll agree the results are impressive.
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The accumulated funk from years of sitting unprotected outside
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Dirty Deck; Liken Gone Wild.
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Much better - she’s actually kinda good lookin’ under all that grime!
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A much cleaner cockpit; neigh ready to bear Dukes upon the sea towards unknown adventures, spoil and plunder….
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There are some minor repairs still to be done, rigging to be replaced, and another round or two of cleaning, but what a keen reminder of the restorative powers of elbow grease. Will certainly update again as the Sea Senorita nears launch.
Stable report 1
Stable report 2
Stable report 3
Stable report 4
Stable report 5
Stable report 6
Stable report 7
Stable report 8
I am not sure for a blog if you celebrate a birthday or anniversary, but either way it has been one year since the initial post on dofb.com. In our first year, there have been 186 posts ranging from stories on running, motorcycles, how to start a proper charcoal BBQ to how to grill on an engine block.
Hope you have enjoyed Year 1, and really do not have much more to say here then stick around for the future, it is going to get intersting
I really do not need to say much, this picture really tells the story.
Here are the basics, the cat is Italian, his names is Orazio, eats lasagna all day long and once in a while will have a Limoncello as an after dinner digestivo. Oh yeah, he looks like he is scared S**t
This afternoon I received an email from Lisa Klein who is the Director of Special Events for the Southern Ocean County Hospital Foundation, asking to spread the word about The Great Causeway Challenge. This event is extremely impressive and benefits a great cause, so I would encourage all of you to check out this event and donate to the cause.
Here are some of the details for April 19th
“The Great Causeway Challenge”
and a Kids 1 Mile Fun Run, on Saturday, April 19, 2008 to benefit Pediatric Services for Southern Ocean County Hospital.
Seems like there are a lot of events to choose from and a very worthy cause, so encourage anyone in the area who wants to start their spring running season to head over to Long Beach Island (LBI) and have a good time
19 Feb
Posted by Graham as Baja 1000, Gadgets, Misc, Motorcycle, Travel
The more you learn about the Baja 1000, the more trouble you’re in. Although we have signed up for Honda / JCR Pit Services during the race, we’ll pre-run the course for 3-4 days leading up to the race without any outside help. That will involve a purpose-built race bike that will be used solely for pre-running along with one or two support vehicles. Although there won’t be as much time pressure, we’ll be out in the middle of the desert with limited access to supplies. One thing I’ve been concerned about is our access to fuel or water. And we’re talking about fuel for multiple vehicles and water for a decent size support staff. We’ve been tossing around the idea of mounting a fuel drum to the top of the roof rack, but I came across a less costly option, albeit one with limited capacity. These can holders mount to a roof rack and accept standard 5 gallon Wedco gas and water cans. Might be the ticket…
DOFB
