Apparently Brett's spinnaker came out of its bag and was partially flogging in the breeze
. . . to set the record straight, as I was the one to brave the tornado as everyone else was knocking the bottoms out of all the rum bottles in the county, Brett's spin was flogging 30 feet in the air, attached only to the end of it's 85 foot halyard, over the pine trees, in the mother of all storms. It was I who gave up my position in the grog line to save the boats. :P
