At a recent regatta, one fellow was slamming beers at the a.m. skipper's meeting (a big thud every time one hit the metal trash can) he stuck out like a sore thumb. In retrospect, twenty years ago I would have never given it much thought (and may have joined him).

With the newest generation of sailors, they'd have to be dying of thirst to drink your soda.

Water is where it's at!