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Copyright (C) 1994, Luigi Semenzato

I have a difficult relationship with the swell. I want to dominate it, control it, understand it in its smallest detail. Which, of course, is impossible. I know that but I can't help it. When I sail in the swell, my eyes furiously scan the water surface, and my brain integrates and interpolates in its fruitless attempt to predict its shape at tee sub zero, the instant of board contact. I would probably enjoy it more if I could relax and take it as it comes. I do the same thing with life.

Lightning strike protection kits.

Ever been out on one of those unreal days when the cloud closes in and you're skimming across an oily sea in a strange but beautifully silent world of your own? No? Well never mind, because the next thing you hear is often the roll of thunder, preceded by a flash of light and followed by a flash of realisation that your mast is the highest object around, like a raised hand saying "Pick me! Me!".

Tip: unjamming corroded zips - try vinegar

If there's one item of gear that fails more often than anything else its the zips on sail and board bags. Why manufacturers can't spend the extra (does it cost more?) few cents to put in zippers with plastic sliders is beyond me. Virtually every sail and board bag I have has a stuffed zipper.


When the horse show was over, I congratulated with my former girlfriend for winning and drove away in the surfmobile (erroneously called `car' by some people). To the east, the wind generators on the crests of the hills were spinning. Somewhere among those hills was the ultra-secret spot, the windiest and craziest place of them all. I had never been there, and I didn't have a map. But the afternoon was young. I reached the freeway. West was home, east was adventure. I drove east.

The Big Basin Horse and Windsurf Camp (humour)

My former girlfriend and I decided we should do something together.`We could go camping' she proposed. `Well... yes... we could... but the wind season is almost over and...' `Oh, wait, I have to train my horses for the Pebble Beach show.' `Right, exactly.' Then I remembered something. Across the highway from the Waddell parking lot there is a gate, and a road that goes up a valley. A short drive on that road leads to a horse campground,complete with stalls and plenty of space for trailers. Now picture this: a horse camp within walking distance of a prime wave sailing location. I told Martha; she was thrilled. She made reservations,and Saturday morning early we packed two horses, two boards, seat harness, head harness, buttpads, footstraps, uphauls, around-hauls,mouth-hauls, food, and hay.

Luigi Semenzato - Gone with the Windsurf

In the early 90's windsurfers on the Internet were a rare breed and communicated through newsgroups such as rec.windsurfing (this is pre web kiddies). There were a few who contributed regularly, and one of these was Luigi Semenzato (and his ever tolerant ex-girlfriend). Luigi wrote stories about his windsurfing experiences which kept everyone amused, and to show that things don't change (and your enjoyment also) I will include some of these here.

The archive - stories and other things from the past ...

These are stories and other materials from the past which are worth preserving and retelling. I will add to this section as material comes to hand, but feel free to send us anything that you think is of value or interest.

Get your story published

Get your story out there. Write up your event and send it to one or more of the following (always send it to Windsurfing NZ), or ask us to send it on - your stories will help get recognition for your club, your event and your sport - and encourage new members.

Windsurfing (or should that be stormsideing) - lost in translation ...

Monitoring the Internet for suitable news occasionally brings a real gem - like this story which obviously was automatically translated from a non-english source. I've worked out some of the translations, see how you do.

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