Friday, August 1
John Bauldry, Andrew Teichman, and Jeff
Rabidoux piled into the Bounder, John’s rolling palace, at about 7:30 A.M.
with the Tiger and 16 double-stacked behind. Destination: Rochester, NY. Two
border crossings through Canada would put us at the Regatta site by about 2:30
P.M. It was to be the first regatta for Andrew…our Fleet 276 Regatta Virgin
Sacrifice. The morning brought clear skies for the drive over, although the
weather forecast for the weekend looked a bit sketchy.
The drive through Canada was pretty
uneventful. A quick stop at the Service Centre (not a spelling error, rather, a
Canadian thing…they really do think they are French) for a quick Tim
Horton’s bagel and coffee. For the record, based on John’s experience, if
you ask the nice Canadian girl behind the counter for a “regular coffee”,
you get a female coffee…you know, with cream and sugar. Please take this in
consideration when ordering your next coffee in the land of the Mounted Police.
So I enjoyed my decaf
coffee…black…and we cruised the smooth Canadian highways, with Andrew
occasionally running around inside the vehicle, snapping photos of the terrain
with his cell phone/camera though the various windows. We made good time and
found ourselves at the campground right on schedule. A few folks had already
arrived, but we still had the pick of the spots to set up the weekend homestead.
John picked a spot next to a grass
island, so he could set the RV awning over the grass, and Andy and I could throw
up our tent close by. We set everything up, cracked a Corona or two, and began
assembling the boats. It was a continuous flow of vehicles into the parking
lot…Hobies and more Hobies. Oh yeah, there were a few others as well, this
being an official F18 event. A couple of sailors brought their Nacras, hoping to
slip by a sleeping Tiger or two.
Andrew and I assembled my 16 in typical
regatta fashion: attach a shroud, have a sip of beer…attach a trapeze
wire…have a sip of beer…etc, etc. We finished in time to take in all that is
“Trailer Baby”. John acquired this nickname for his meticulous care of his
Tiger. Watching it from the comfort of a chair is something to behold! When he
brought out the 409 to clean his mast, I thought I might fall out my seat.
However, its that kind of attention to
detail that separates good sailors from bad ones…you wouldn’t see someone
with that much focus forget to put in their drain plugs for instance. Err, uh,
well. Anyway, Andy and I utilized John’s beach wheels to take the 16 down to
the beach and launch it for a little training session. I wanted Andrew to have a
chance to get to know the 16 and his responsibilities for the weekend.
After a few tacks, he really began to
enjoy the occasional hang-up of the jib battens, and was getting good at quickly
solving the problem. The wind was pretty good, and I enjoyed a little single
trapeze action. The water was fairly warm, the skies were clear, and life was
good. We sailed for about an hour or so, and then headed for shore, backing the
Hobie onto the beautiful sandy beach, and dropping the sails. It was about a
200-yard walk up the grassy area to our tent…an absolutely beautiful venue for
this event.
We were at the very end of this huge
State Park. The race organizers had a huge tent set up for registration, eating,
and partying. The parking lot was enormous, (providing lots of launching space
for Matt Bound’s glider by the way), and the beach stretched for a couple
hundred yards, leaving plenty of room for the 66 boats that took part in the
event. From all the campsites, you had a breathtaking view of Lake Ontario.
When Andy and I reached our campsite,
TB (trailer baby) was nearly finished assembling his Tiger. Hunger had taken
over our minds and we decided that it was time to start putting dinner together.
By now, the parking lot was beginning to fill up – Hobies of all
sizes…Tigers, 20’s, 18’s, and 16’s. Oh yeah, those Nacras too.
John fired up the mini Weber and we
munched on chips and salsa. Oh yes, the sounds, tastes, and smells of a Hobie
regatta! John had made some chicken kabobs at home, packed them with a
marinating sauce, and through them in the RV fridge for the ride over. When he
threw those things on the grill, the neighbors were jealous! They were
outstanding. Add a little salad and a couple of bratwurst on the side for extra
measure, and we ate like kings.
A visit to the registration tent
following dinner allowed us to sign in, as well as discover the free beer and
cocktails provided by one of the event sponsors. Oh boy…free beer. Put a large
group of sailors together, and offer them free beer for the weekend…that’s a
good idea! So catching up with friends was the order of the evening, and it was
good to see them all again. A few new faces in the crowd as well. Fleet 276
increased its visibility when the Bounds family arrived – Matt with his wife
and daughter – and his boat of choice for this event – the 16.
We socialized through the
evening…stopping at various tents and RV’s to share stories and adventures
of Hobie days gone by. This location offers the darkest skies that I have seen
in a while, providing a great view of Mars, the closest it has been to earth in
many years. (Just an extra astronomical fact for you…at no additional charge).
As we found our way back to our tent, it felt like 2 A.M. but was really only
about 11 P.M. It had been a long day, and Andrew and I had run out of energy.
We had been sitting our campsite for a
few moments, when John stumbled in. He came in on a port
tack…jibed…tacked…and somehow avoided a pitch pole…finding his way into
a chair. He had enjoyed the free beer and other drinks…even more than Andy and
I had…evidently! Within moments, all these 276 members retired to their
quarters…proving you can get too much of a free thing.
Saturday, August 2
The Fog. As I awoke in the luxury of my
tent and sleeping bag, there was little doubt about it: a fog had settled into
my head. If not for the urgent plea of my bladder, I may have resorted to the put
your head and entire body into your sleeping bag, therefore eliminating the
light of day and getting that little extra sleep that you think will help
strategy. However, the trip to the restroom brought me close enough to the
regatta tent to smell the fresh brewed coffee and doughnuts…that provided the
willpower to make it through the fog.
The skippers meeting took place at 9:30
A.M. and the race committee aimed for a 10:30 start. Based on the fact that
there were 22 Hobie 16’s, they broke the class into A, B, and C fleets. I had
a strategy all along…if there was a C fleet, I would participate in it. It’s
where I belong, and the only chance I had to bring back hardware to Motown. As
it turned out, C fleet had just 3 boats in it…already I was a lock to place at
least 3rd!
The competition in the F18 class was
going to be strong. John knew that all along. However, under the cover of
darkness, a gunslinger had come into town – a three-peat Alter Cup Champion
– Matt Srauble. Matt assembled his boat in darkness, slipped back to his hotel,
and probably dreamt of bullets (first place finishes). One can’t help but
start thinking that the race was now for 2nd, with Matt’s history
of kicking butt, on any cat you give him to sail. But that’s why you sail the
races – anything can happen.
My pre race strategy for good starts
did not get implemented. In race one, we were a long way from the line when the
gun went off…with light winds that wouldn’t get us across the line for what
seemed like a day and a half. We enjoyed the view of everyone’s sterns all
around the course. Last place. 21 Hobie 16’s crossed the finish line ahead of
us. Super.
John sailed a great race and finished
in 2nd, behind you-know-who (Bulletman). As John says, he’s got it
all…skill, luck, and the Zen. Nonetheless, John was real pleased with his
result. Now, if I could just find the starting line, perhaps we could at least
be a nuisance to someone.
Race 2 began with a bit more wind. The
weather was changing…it was getting more cloudy, and the morning fog that had
been laying on the water just off the beach was not burning off…in fact, it
was slowly growing. The race
committee had informed us tat Lake Ontario “turned over” Friday night,
causing the water temperature to drop about 15 degrees.
Another poor start led to another poor
race…ahead of some of the B fleeters, but behind the other 2 C fleeters…a
rock solid 3rd place. Through the last couple of legs, the fog had
really begun to build. By the time we finished, visibility was well under a ¼
mile. The next race was abandoned and the race committee ordered the boats to
return to shore. Being that we were about ¾ mile off shore, it was impossible
to know exactly where the beach was. As we sailed north, in a pack, we
eventually could see the land, and made the necessary adjustments to get to the
beach.
The beach officer went up and down the
beach, writing down sail numbers, making certain that they could account for
everyone. With visibility decreasing even more, it was now difficult to see more
than 50 yards. The boat count came up one short. They began sounding some car
horns, air horns, and anything else they could find, hoping to provide some
direction to the boat still out on the water.
When a half hour had passed without a
sign, it began to get a bit scary. The park police came in, with jet skis in
tow. The coast guard was called in and the search was on. The only good news was
that there no high winds or rain, so we all hoped for the best.
Finally, after at least an hour had
passed, we received word that the coast guard had spotted a boat anchored east
of the park, although they saw no one on board. Several minutes later, they
confirmed that the passengers had walked up to a house and contacted the
authorities. Thankfully, the police brought them back and they retrieved their
boat Sunday morning.
John had a bad second race on Saturday,
following Matt Strauble to the inside of the course and ended up eating a lot of
dirty air from those of us on our 16’s and 18’s. He managed a 7th
place finish. It was a disappointing day for both of us.
Matt Bounds and his daughter were
making their mark in the Hobie 16 A fleet. With two 2nd place
finishes on Saturday, they were in sitting in a solid second place position in A
Fleet. The competition is strong in the 16 Fleets in Division 16, and with that
many 16’s going to the line together, it can be challenging to get off to a
good start. Matt continued to demonstrate his abilities at the line, as well as
on the course.
The fog brought the day’s racing to a
close. The party started early, and never seemed to end. The drinks were being
mixed in the “daiquiri-whacker” and being consumed as quickly as they were
being made. The “whacker” is a blender mounted on a weed whacker gas engine.
Using a throttle, you adjust the blender speed for the desired effect. To quote
John, “it’s the faint taste of two-stroke oil that makes the drinks taste so
good.”
A quick look around the tent following
the awesome steak dinner brought up a question…where’s Andrew? John hadn’t
seen him either, so we assumed he went down to one of the other camping areas to
scope out the prospects. That’s what young 20-somethings do. I continued with
the festivities, figuring he would return at some point – probably with one of
the lifeguards he had spotted on an earlier trip through the park.
He did return…however, he had been
taking a nap. He endured some well-deserved harassment from John and I – the
40 and over club. John took it easy that night, and while I certainly sampled my
share of gasoline-flavored cocktails, I too was looking to improve my sailing on
Sunday. A DJ spun the tunes, and some dancing did occur, however, for the most
part, the party was a bit subdued, perhaps a carryover from the drama of earlier
in the day.
Sunday brought a similar picture, with
fog covering the water, and a delay to the start. About a half hour later, the
committee boat made it’s way out, and the call for “off the beach” was
sounded. We all sailed out and anxiously buzzed the starting line, trying to
will the start of the races. Finally, the open class flag was hoisted, followed
by the other class starts.
Andrew and I hit the line a bit early.
We tried to kill off time by heading up into the wind, then moving down the
line. We couldn’t kill enough time so we ended up doing a jibe right at the
end of the line. As we jibed, the gun went off. We sheeted in on a port tack and
past behind all of the boats leaving on starboard. We held that course
until the layline for the first mark.
I had leaned my mast back more than I
have ever before and it was paying off. I was pointing closer to the wind and
making good speed in the fairly light winds. We made the tack toward the first
mark, and rounded it in 5th place overall – leaving about sixteen
other 16 behind us. We sailed well downwind, and for the remainder of the race.
The guy with two firsts on day one in C
fleet was neck and neck with us over the last 2 legs. As we turned the last buoy
and headed toward one final tack, I went too far before tacking, and he tacked
first. He was able to point high enough to make the finish line and beat us by a
boat length or two. I was bummed – I thought we could have won.
I later discovered that another C fleet
boat had finished in front of him…so that gave us another 3rd
place. However, we finished 6th overall…ahead of 15 other A and B
fleet 16 sailors…yahoo!
In race 2, we made a great start,
hitting the line on the gun, and leaving on a starboard tack. We made a tack
toward the first mark, and rounded it in 4th place overall. As we
sailed downwind, the lake turned to glass – the wind had disappeared. Within
about 10 minutes, the abandonment flag went up, the gun went off, and the
applause of about 150 sailors could be heard all over the lake. No one likes to
drift along on a Hobie Cat.
We hit the beach as thunder began to
rumble in the distance. We lifted boats over the rocks and onto the grass, where
we disassembled and loaded onto trailers. It is here where you see the true
Hobie spirit. Everyone helps each other out – that’s what it’s all about.
John had another frustrating race
Sunday morning, and wasn’t able to climb up the leaderboard. Matt Bounds
solidified his 2nd place spot with another nice light air
performance. My only brush with victory was a lead over Matt after rounding the
first mark in race 2. The abandonment took away any chances for momentary glory.
Oh well.
As it turned out, the abandonment was a
good idea. The rain started as we were putting the final touches on packing up
the RV. It poured for the next few hours.
At the awards presentation, John was
presented with a 5th place finish overall in the F18 class, and Matt
was award 2nd place in the 16 A Fleet. Once again, Fleet 276 was
represented well. I walked away with some new confidence. I look forward to
getting more time on the tiller…it’s really paying off.
These regattas are great experiences.
Not only are they a ton of fun from a social perspective, they are very helpful
when it comes to learning to sail your boat faster. I thank John Bauldry so much
for providing the means for me to get to these events. I really appreciate his
friendship. Without his help, I would not have been able to participate in many
of these events.
I hope that everyone is looking forward
to Catfight. It is going to be a great event.
See you on the water…
Jeff