#Wind Range

[alan-woodyard]

SAILING OUT OF RANGE || Quantum Sails

TAKING A SAIL OUT OF ITS DESIGNED RANGE AND MAKING IT WORK

In a perfect world (certainly in this sailmaker’s one), we would have a sail for every racing condition. This would mean a graduated series of headsails with six- to eight-knot optimum wind ranges. Four would be about right to take us up into the low 20s. 

Many one-design classes eliminate this option, limiting the number of headsails and controlling sizing in the hopes of keeping costs down. This sometimes backfires since the wear and tear of using one or two primary sails just means they need replacing more often. For handicap sailors it is nice to have a full quiver of sails even if we don’t bring all of them for every race. It is also nice to have a flexible mainsail capable of taking us through the whole range. 

Unfortunately, sailboat racing being what it is, it is not always easy to have the right sail up at the right time. Invariably the breeze ends up dropping or building unexpectedly, and we all know how painful a sail change can be. This is especially true when just as we make the change, things go back to the way they were. There is also a good argument for keeping things simple and light and minimizing the number of sails we drag around. The key is being able to take a sail out of its designed range and make it work. There are a number of tricks to turn that medium/heavy headsail into a light-air sail. We can also turn that sail into a heavy-air headsail if the pressure is on.

Full Article Here…

https://go.sailsouthern.com/sailing-out-of-range

[blueparadis]

[nevertheless-moving]

thinking about how fucking impossible it would be to pine secretly after someone on roshar. Like even if we assume that passionspren are only summoned by the most intense love and/or horniness - that's almost worse isn't it? Because you wouldn't be able to laugh it off like 'haha just a passing thought. Whoops again? Hahaha oh I suppose I have a little crush'

Anyway Kaladin doing one of his canonical epic hero glowing stunts with his canonical destroyed/soaked clothing (what. the man is constantly avoiding shardblades and arrows by a hairsbreath and flying around In Highstorms. The only reason he would even have pants at the end of WOR after the everstorm/highstorm fight is because we're following comic book rules- there's no way this man isn't going through clothes faster than James T Kirk - even if he's not his uniform shirt is WHITE and -)

ANYWAY kaladin having one of his Protaganist Moments and like. There is less than than zero time between the 'Oh. Oh.' Moment and Eventual Feelings Reveal because blorbo B is very visibly displaying a personified manifestation of intense romantic adoration.

[gothearts]

Nothing like drawing your favs interacting, and being besties lmao

[m5or]

Here is a silly post from silly little me because i am curious. Which link would do the "Get down Mr. President!" tackle to their Zelda? (I think that is everyone )

[cyphyree]

suddenly remembered how Narancia was trying to warn everyone about the enemy but talking head kept making him goof up

And apparently this was still such Normal Narancia Behavior that no one believed anything was wrong

And Giorno still had to think for a few minutes to make sure that this, indeed, was not just Normal Narancia Behavior

[quirkle2]

flutter slimes are his favorite

[vintagecamping]

Cooking up some lunch on Temple Lake Wind River Range, Wyoming 1985

[curiosity-killed]

Attempting to make adas polo and realizing a few important lessons

I don’t know how to parboil rice

If a recipe calls for 3 C of rice…use 3C rice

Big vibes of “this is intermediate, I’m a beginner”

I am a coward (see image below)

[ALT ID: A screenshot of a recipe that reads “Test by licking your finger and quickly tapping near the base of the pot.”]

[kazeofthemagun]

@sketchmog said:

Need Kumo making all Mar/cille's expressions XD

[Say no more and enjoy these Kumo memefaces from my blog. I love him.]

[Voila]

[oogleboogleoogle]

A fresh dusting of snow on the Wind River Mountains.

[m1d-45]

emotions

summary: a study / log of the emotions you have when you arrive in teyvat.

word count: .8k

-> warnings: nothing severe. technically it’s implied you’re shot at by venti and chased out of mond but it is an imposter au after all

-> lowercase intended!

wonder.

the sun beamed down upon an ocean of grass, trees and flowers alike waving hello as you passed. cecilia’s stretched into your field of view, craving the soft linger of your fingertips, and the insects watched from afar, letting butterflies and birds cross your path instead. the earth swallowed sharp rocks and threatening stones, allowing you to move unhindered. the air was calm, perfect, the slightest of breezes brushing across your skin and rippling your clothes. the sun was warm, but not hot, there just enough for the wind to soothe.

joy.

the statue was tall, it’s figure kind. the small blue ball pulsed as you approached, but there was no surge as with the traveller. instead, it was as if the world around you became more alive for a moment, an invisible voice on the wind saying hello. you did not wield the wind, it followed you. it guided your hand up to birds and other wildlife, it swayed the lamp grass as you passed, encouraging you to pick one of the small plants to take with you. the earth will not mind, for to travel with you is payment ten times over.

confusion.

the city’s walls stretched tall, imposing, an island that lost any welcome to its character. you want to frown as the wind urges you away, towards the peaceful fields once more. the slimes are tame in your presence, the hilichurls have gifted you fruit, and the wilderness has been so pleasant; won’t you agree to stay a little longer? you don’t want to, you remember the city, the guards at the front and the birds on the bridge. it is not an enemy. the wind insists it is.

concern.

the boy stared as you passed, though his birds did not flee. they hopped up to you, as all others have, and you stopped to pet them. the pidgeons cooed and chirped, the small claws on their feet clicking against the stone. the boy was running, the wind urging you to run, even as you straightened. why? why were you in danger? why was the boy talking to the guards?

apprehension.

a sharp shout. a pale cry. man and animal alike cried injustice. weapons were taken from their place, blades drawn from sheaths, helmets joining the rest of the armor. you stand, surrounded by birds, by the wind, by the butterflies that land on your shoulders and flap their wings in a small sort of rage. the guards form a wall, a platoon, one that’s shouting words you don’t understand. you haven’t done anything, so why are they angry? the wind urges you to run. you hold your ground.

unease.

two- three people push their way to the front, blue uniforms and purple hats and white fur gleaming under the suddenly too-hot sun. the guards ask the woman in the middle a question. she nods.

indecision.

the wind howls a storm, the sun beating down upon the metal armor. the birds cry and caw, the bridge quickly turning into a hurricane of distrust with you at the eye. a small figure launches themself off the city wall, landing in a crouch in front of the three. they do not look surprised; neither do the guards. he’s reaching for something at his side. do you run, as the wind so desperately urges you to?

tension.

the small figure shouts a warning you do not hear, his words hidden within the gale surrounding you. a moment’s pause. everything happens at once.

calamity.

the guards draw their swords, the three at the front doing the same with the exception of the woman on the left, who pulls a book out of nowhere. the boy in the front raises a bow—the air is only barely able to redirect it from you in time.

horror.

the birds flutter as you turn, finally understanding the hurricane’s call. the insects around you buzz angrily, you’re surprised they’re not swept up in the storm but are too caught up in running. the stone is hard under your feet, the wind at your back pushing you along at an almost inhuman speed. you understand why it didn’t want you hear, why it fought with silent words and pulled with invisible hands. you wish you had trusted it.

fear.

your feet thudded against the earth, digging in and kicking up, digging in and kicking up, pushing you along your path. you couldn’t falter, you couldn’t stop, you couldn’t. you had to run. shouts and cries followed you, human and not, the trees opening before you only to swing back down in the face of your attackers. the cyclone around you spurs you forward, and you follow wherever it leads. you know better.

you only wish it hadn’t come at such a price.

[no-where-new-hero]

it can’t just be type-casting, this has to be type-writing at this point

[istherewifiinhell]

do you ever think- hang on lemme set the scene

[ID from alt: 1. sun in sky near trees, 2. tree by water with light reflecting. END]

here take one

[ID: 1. box of oranges, 2. glass of ice water. END]

[30 clip of ambient outdoor noise and bird calls]

okay we're good - do you ever think its gonna be okay? anyway.

wanna talk about elaborate and niche media interpretations?

[terra-tortoise]

i might just buy a g1 hatched today and make it a scatter project for toast bc i cannot in any way afford an egg and i both have other art to work on and no energy to offer fast-turnaround commissions today

fr friends too kind lets hope for a green primary

[healingheartdogs]

Cardio said my echocardiogram ultrasound, exercise stress test, and week long heart monitor all showed no serious issues, my resting heart rate is fine, but that my heart rate does seem to rise very rapidly under even small amounts of stress (postural changes, taking stairs, casually walking around my house) and rises very high (160+ bpm according to the monitor) so now I get to be put on beta blockers to see if they work and if they do she said that is sufficient evidence to confirm for sure that it's POTS.

Obviously could confirm it as well with a tilt table test but those are TORTURE based off what I've heard from fellow POTSies so I am very thankful that she doesn't think that's necessary and will not be making me do one.