OK...so here's the part that Karl missed;

The air was warm but the water was a little cool yet. Since the Subway sandwiches were going to be available at 10am and racing slated to start at 11, Karl and I decided that we would work to avoid the rush for the launch ramp and go ahead and get the boat in the water. I would hold it on shore while he went to get sandwiches. Figuring we would finish dressing with gear and what-not from the shoreline, we had all our stuff (including my spray suit, harness, and lifejacket) on the trampoline. Because the wind was blowing at 90 degrees to the ramp, we only strung up the jib and left the mainsail on the trampoline with the gear and rolled down the ramp with the wheels under the boat and the stern pads bunjied firmly on the sterns. It’s important to note that the cove is “C” shaped and the ramp is in the middle. With the boat now in the water, it became evident when the beach wheels hit the curb on the side of the launch ramp that I was going to have to get chest deep in the water to get to the bow to keep the boat into the wind as the jib was full and starting to pull pretty hard. Mind you, I was basically wearing fleece pajamas at this point and hadn't put on a spray suit or anything. As I headed for the bow I got as far as the front beam and was already waist deep in the cold water that is probably around 50 to 55 degrees F. Once my manhood was submerged I changed my mind about getting all the way to the bow and I told Karl to go for the sandwiches - I would just drift over to the other side of the cove and I jumped on the boat. Karl, showing great confidence in my judgment, turned and walked the considerable distance up the hill to the food tent as I drifted clear of the dock and headed, as anticipated, for the shore on the opposite side of the cove. About half way there, a gust hit with a big change of direction, the jib filled, and shot me out toward the middle of the lake at an astonishingly brisk clip even with the stern chocks and the beach dolly under the boat.

After I got over the stunning disappointment of missing the point on the cove, I realized I was sliding sideways over a shoal and thought about jumping off to park the boat and sort it out. I was concerned that I might not be able to get it turned quickly enough if the beach wheels bottomed out on the ground so I quickly nixed that idea. I certainly didn't want to be left standing on a shoal in the middle of a lake by myself, in my wet pajamas, watching my boat sail off to never never land with my beach wheels, stern chocks, and all my sailing gear without me or, worse, being dragged surfing behind the boat with no life jacket or warm gear - this was already bad enough. So here I go sailing out to the middle of the lake completely unprepared and with no control. I tried to get the mainsail up so I could balance the sails and turn the boat into the wind but with the boat reaching, the main kept getting caught on a trapeze wire and I couldn't shake it loose - I tried to hoist it twice but it took all my strength to hoist it while on that reach and I only have two hands. I was also hoping to steer the boat more into the wind but I couldn't get the rudders down because the stern chocks were in the way, so I carefully worked to remove them without loosing them OR falling in the water. It took me several minutes but I finally got the chocks free and stored on the trampoline. The rudders were down now but I couldn't steer with beach wheels still under the boat and the jib pulling the bows down without a mainsail to balance it. I couldn't get daggerboards down because the beach wheels cradles were blocking the trunks. I'm now about 150 yards away from shore and working quickly on "Plan D" to get the daggerboards down.

At this point, it's clear that the beach wheels need to come out - but they are really dragging hard through the water and I don't want to let them drift loose across the lake. However, with them in the water, I was quite sure I wouldn’t be able to hold on to them if they were completely free of the boat so I raise the rudders, untie one side of the beach wheels from the shroud, and quickly tied it to the chicken line that runs down the hull. I carefully untied the other side and let it go....the beach wheels immediately shot out from under the boat and spun while remaining in tow from the one line tied to the chicken line side just as I had hoped. I can now get the daggerboards down but with the drag from the beach wheels and the boat still unbalanced with just the jib pulling the boat, I can't make any progress to weather to get back to the beach and pick up my sandwich ... and Karl. I figure that, by now, Karl must be standing on the shore line staring at me and I can only hope he hasn't called for help. I have yet to glance back at the launch ramp as I'm hopeful that my plight hasn’t been noticed by the fleet that was hurriedly rigging their boats for racing. I'm terrified that even the slightest gaze from me toward that ramp might somehow subliminally attract the attention of someone in the fleet prompting a "hey!, look at Jake!". If I had any chance to recover unnoticed, I just COULDN'T look back at the beach as I felt it would seal my fate.

I'm now about 200 yards or so from the beach and the mainsail has to go up to get back. Because the boat is still reaching, I still can't get it to clear the trap line so with the main about 2/3 up I tie off the halyard to the trampoline lacing and lash another line to the clew of the main and the opposite corner of the boat to pull it toward the center. FINALLY I can point back at the beach and although I'm able to fly a hull, the drag of the beach wheels is making my progress painfully slow increasing the risk for mass recognition. Now that I'm finally pointing back in that direction, I have no choice but to look back at the beach and I was relieved to not see a mass of people and cameras at the bottom of the ramp. There was only Karl walking down the ramp with a sandwich in each hand and undoubtedly pondering the empty beach. It looked like I mostly got away without being noticed. I finally get back in the cove, raise the boards and rudders, and come to a stop on the shore line where Karl is waiting. He places the sandwiches on the trampoline and says "should I ask?”. I don't think my response was anything more than a simple grumble and at least 10 minutes went by before I even began to explain the process of events occurred...

And this is how we came to sail the first two races without drain plugs.