Hi all,Well, I officially baptized my 170 on Saturday (I'm an avid Laser sailor too, so I, and that Laser, have personally been baptized too many times to count!)! I was sailing my 170 singlehanded in 14-16mph breezes for several hours, with the barometer on the rise-- gorgeous day. I reefed the mainsail because the wind was building toward a "fresh breeze”. I noticed some vertical development & virga about five miles to the east, but no apparent t-storms or squalls in the area (I'm not a meteorologist, so maybe the virga should have tipped me off to what might be to come). As I plowed along on a port tack, the 170 up on a glorious 10-15 degree heel, me easing the main now and then to keep her down, I noticed that the water just to my east suddenly looked like it was being just pelted by rain, and it was advancing toward me fast--- Hmmmm, I didn't feel any large drops preceding it. Then my mind suddenly blurted out, that's not driving rain, it's WIND!! *WHAM!* I was absolutely hammered by a squall line. I was running full jib and reefed main so I rounded the boat immediately up into the blast, luffed the main and jib all the way and tried to furl the jib. But it was being flogged so violently and the boat immediately began to bear off to the lee. Both sails were completely luffed and although I was glued to the windward rail, I immediately proceeded to capsize! The entire sequence took all of 4 seconds. With the sails luffing and thus unable to draw any of this nasty wind, the boat had no chance of staying pointed up into the wind and was just blindsided. I've never actually been exposed to wind of this strength (we've weathered hurricanes and tropical storms in our house, but from INSIDE the house) and was amazed to see my 170 go over as quickly as a Laser does during an accidental jibe. The 170, of course, is not Laser-like when it comes to rightability. The moment I hit the water (which was immediately, and the high boom made this entry easy--- no risk of hitting the boom while falling into the water), I SCRAMBLED around and actually swam under the corner of the transom to reach the centerboard--- to which I'd attached my anti-slam cord (thank God). By this time, the boat was already turning turtle. My boat does not have a Hobie 'football' on its masthead, nor is the mast "foamed" inside, so I'd be interested to hear perhaps Danny H's perspective on how well foaming works (capsize test completed yet??) and how easy the 170 is to right singlehanded while on its side ---football or foam having prevented it from turtling. I'm wondering too how easy the c-b is to reach from the water--- it's much higher than the c-b on a Laser/Sunfish, so I'd be curious to know how effective a single, 160 lb. guy dangling from the 170's c-b is in bringing her back over—considering she’s been prevented from turtling.In hindsight, I'm glad I DIDN'T have foam or a football because my instinct to pop the boat back up a-s-a-p would have taken over and I'd have righted her immediately, only to be knocked down again--- by definition, a squall is not just a gust, but a blast of wind lasting a minute or more, and this one lasted a couple of minutes. In this case, it was best to just stay low and not subject the rig to another beating. To my west, about a 1/2 mile, a small keelboat (24') had dropped its sails moments before the squall (maybe I should have observed this sailor's keen weather-eye and powered up my kicker motor and dropped sails as well?). This boat slowly motored toward me once the squall had passed, but it took about 20 minutes for them to actually arrive on the scene. After the capsize, I’d immediately climbed up onto the overturned hull (unless you're an Olympic gymnast, this is not an easy task) using the rudder and rudder gudgeons as a step-up, and doing so on the port side, so as to avoid hitting my now water-logged outboard. The keelboat’s crew cellphoned a friend of theirs on the lake who had one of these large, three-seater Sea Doo’s and we waited. Meantime, I jumped back into the water, remembering that I always remove the topping lift from the boom and secure it to the port side chainplates once the main is raised. Turned out this move was key—as the topping lift was a great method for righting the boat. By this time, the 170 had stopped drifting, as the masthead had become stuck on the bottom. The personal watercraft arrived, with a long ski-rope attached and two guys disembarked off the back, while the captain of the watercraft circled. I secured the topping lift’s bitter end to the end of the jetski’s line and the captain loitered as I climbed back up onto the turtled hull. I then had the comedic honor of hauling my two assistants aboard (picture a big guy trying to climb onto an idle inner-tube to be towed behind a powerboat)--- I’d guess that a portion of folks who sail the 170 couldn’t climb up onto its turtled hull if they had to. My saviors now aboard, we proceeded to the starboard side of the boat, toes tentatively planted on the rubrail and each guy held onto the centerboard. We could not budge the boat back over alone: I really think the topping lift and powerboat are the most headache-free way of righting the boat. The jetski proceeded out to port and pulled the topping lift taught. A little gas from the jetski and the boat began to come over. The three of us leaned out and the boat came through 150 degrees of capsize and I yelled for the jetski to slow his pull. Slowly and surely, the boat came all the way over. I was overjoyed to look aloft and see that the rig and my sails were completely unscathed and looked great. My Windex 10 windvane, however was utterly mangled.As mentioned, my Yamaha 2.5 four-stroke was completely underwater for about an hour, so I’m currently nursing it (hopefully) back to health. Any rehab recommendations besides drain the gas, oil and replace spark plug? I think I’d read that a 170 sailor had dunked his Honda 2hp--- any ideas on drying my motor out right?Also, again, has anyone had tested success with foaming their 170’s mast? While I didn’t like the helplessness of my boat being turtled, I also don’t like the Hobie football option for my 170. Any input on foaming’s effectiveness and (in case I succumb and go this route) just how well does the football work/how easy is it to right a 170 from the centerboard singlehanded while mast float keeps boat from turtling, would be helpful. All this said, I’m convinced that this squall was a one-in-a-thousand event and that this kind of dunking is just part of the fun/risk of being a dinghy sailor. Still might pay me to watch the weather a little closer. Now I see why articles in SAIL magazine are devoted to sailors of large keelboats who prepare well for impending squalls, and avoid them like the plague.Also, any advice on spotting squalls would be helpful. I’ve been sailing for 20 years and have NEVER encountered such a phenomenon on the water—and had no clue it was coming until it was 100 feet away.I think the moral of the story is, when in doubt in a dinghy, start auxiliary power and douse all sails—in order to save said aux. power from becoming waterlogged later. This could have prevented a capsize in the first place. Perhaps I should pay better attention in the future to what other sailors are doing to prevent damage to their boats (keelboat that came to my rescue)—like lowering their sails. That keelboat and I were the only sailboats on the water that day because it was really blowing, but I don’t think we were fool-hearty by any means.Full sails,Mike G.Alachua, FL