So in High School, I used to race 420's. The league rules were pretty standard, but the first season I was a skipper I noticed that there was an interesting omission. There was no mention that you had to complete a race with the same number of crew with which you began. We practiced on Dublin Lake in southern New Hampshire where the wind tended to be gusty and shifty. We raced on other lakes in NH with similar conditions. My crew was a sophomore, and a bit heavy which tended to work in our favor in the prevailing blows. One day at a race on Winnepesaki (not even close to correctly spelled but its late and I'm tired), we have a very light wind race. It was one of those days where the only time you made perceptable forward motion was roll tacking around marks. It was a short form dinghy course, and we had raced four heats and were now on the last, and fifth. The sun was low in the sky, the day almost over. Several less experienced skippers have barely made it over the start line as the leader, our boat included, are rounding the upwind mark. I managed to make headway only outside of 60 degrees off the wind, making tons of tacks, trying not to get caugth sculling, and am generally miserable. We get a better roll at the up wind mark, and coast out in front. I look at the number two boat and realize that they're lighter than we are by a good fifty pounds, and that we don't stand a chance on the downwind. I raise the centerboard. I get my crew down on the floor. I raise rudder and start steering with my weight to combat drag. Then it hits me - ditch the crew!! The sun is gone and its starting to get chilly. She resists. I order her out of the boat and into the water. She is, after all, wearing a good wetsuit. She reluctantly goes over the side. Red flags all around from the nearby boats. I chuckle, and drift toward the line a bit more quickly than before. I cross for the win within about two minutes. The wind starts to pick-up and I go tacking back onto the course to pick up the crew. I am very respectful of those still racing as I search for her. I am singlehanded, so I have the sheets cleated as I stand in the cockpit and search. I find her, miss too high, and turn down to pick her up. As I do, I jibe accidentally, catch the boom in the life jacket and head into the drink. The boat naturally, head directly to the crew who climbs aboard and heads for shore. The committee boat comes and gets me. So - back on land, we have the protest hearing. We look at the book. I am exonerated. The cup will carry my name, and the name of my crew. Life goes on. For years, I thought the moral of the story was: If you do something incredibly cocky, don't fall out of you boat. As I grow older, however, I have come to understand that the true moral is: Always pick a crew that will come back for you no matter what you do. Winds at the back - Justin - O'day Owner's Web