Hello all,
A note to tell you
all what happened to me Saturday morning Memorial Day 1999 in the Annapolis to
St. Michaels race.
My passion for
sailing has sent me off into the racing world of the Chesapeake. I had listed
my name with Spinsheet Magazine for a crew listing and have been set up on
great boat "Relentless" PHRF B out of Gailsville,Md.
Time was invented
to let you know what time it is. So when the Captain says "be at the dock
no later than 0730", when you arrive there at 0805 and the boat is gone,
you know you are late. It truly is a facinating concept.
Last year I raced
on "Stinger" a yellow hull C & C 35 PHRF B out of Georgetown, MD.
I knew what a fun time it was and I would curse myself if I missed it. I had to
find a way to get to my boat. About 6 nm and 2 hours to go, the clock was
ticking.
0815. I went to
marina number #1. I asked a yard guy "I am supposed to be in a sailboat
race off of Annapolis, do you have a jet boat that can take me out
there?". I did not think the reaction would be favorable if I had used
stinkpotter and I wanted to used the fastest word I could think of. I was
promptly dismissed with a "Shoot. All we got is a 8hp and it will take you
forever to get out there."
0820. Fuel dock #1.
I repeated my dilemma to the summer job attendee. With a blank stare he
promptly went to get the manager/dockmaster who informed me that "of
course, there would be a fee involved and that means you have to have a
captains license. None of these guys here have one and I can't get away".
Thanks for the love, guy.
0825 sailing club
#1 next door to fuel dock #1. Knowing the stupidity I would feel if I asked for
a jet boat at a sailing club I asked if they had a club boat. The past
commodore politely informed me that she didn't know but "John" would
be in shortly and he might be able to help but there were races that day and
she didn't think there would be a good chance. Phooey.
0835 call to
Captian's cell phone #1. "Frank!" "Brian...Where are you?"
"A fuel dock in Galesville, trying to find a ride." "Go to the
Annapolis Yacht Club and try to find a boat going out." "What time is
our gun?" "1015" With the utmost confidence and a firm tone, I
stated "I'll see you at the starting line". Frank hung up the phone with
a hollow "o.k..." that kind of trailed off. I had found new drive in
my quest for the gun.
0840. Car ride #1.
I sped to Eastport, down Aris T. Allen Drive, parked my car, grabbed my bag and
went to Annapolis City Marina. The 10 min walk to AYC was too much time to
waste.
0910 Fuel dock #2.
I explained my dilemma to Ed Shorter the Assistant Dockmaster whom I know from
when he worked in Cambridge, MD. "No, we don't have any flying jalopies
that can take you, but I think these guys fueling up are headin' to the race.
You might want to ask them for a lift(no pun intended). Oh, Yeah. there's
bagels and cream cheese out back. Help yourself." Rock On! With bagel in
one hand, bag in the other I walked to the boat whose name I forget (not
"whose name I forget", I actually forgot it). A crewmember directed
me to the Captian. I expained myself to "Walter" and without batting
an eye he said "sure, hop aboard".
0925 Motoring out
to the starting line, I had a nice conversation with two of the crew about
J/something this and sailing experience/that. I have forgotten their names but
will always have that evenings comparision in the bar of who had the worst
Sailor's (farmer's) tan. We are all so money and we don't even know it. We were
the bear, not the fuzzy bunny.
0950. Starting
line. I gave myself until 10 min before the 1015 gun to find
"Relentless" or else someone was going to have an extra crew. I was
told that they would drop me off at the commitee boat or at the bouy with my
thumb hanging out, but I think they were kidding. A lazy circle through the
fleet produced nothing. I was starting to sweat but kept my cool.
0955.
"Stinger" Who I had told I was going to be on a PHRF B boat not a
PHRF A-something, sailed past us. "Right race, wrong boat!" I shouted
out. I received baffling looks but an acknowleded wave.
0957. Eighteen
minutes to go. Walter's crew pulled out the jib and myheart started pounding. A
few were helping me look for "Relentless". Another lazy circle around
the starting area. 0959 With sweat pouring off my forehead, I frantically
scanned the horizon. "Is that the boat?" a crewmember asked.
"Ahhhh.. no" I dejectedly stated. False alarm. Fate was not looking
to favorably upon me.
1002. A boat tacked
in front of us and another one bared off and with a beam of light striking from
behind "Relentless" appeared. My heart lept up.
1003 Walter cirled
around to the lee side and came up from behind. I swung my bag across to crew
on "Relentless" and with a Baryshnikov leap across the cool spring
bay water I had made my boat. As Walter slid past I turned around and slapped
him five and wished him lots-o-wind anda great race.
1010 Safely aboard
"Relentless", "Stinger" apeared. "Right race,
righhhhttt boat!" I shouted. It was met with a confused look and a half
wave.
1015 starting gun.
Mission acomplished. I think I gave my captian a heart attack. All in all, the
weekend was acompleted success; tiki bar at Miles River Yacht Club, Buffet
dinner andthe 2315 announcement of the race results because the computer broke.
Kudos to all who raced, organized and those who helped me on my adventure.
© Brian DeGraw
10/24/2009