Syttende Mai Regatta Report by Daniel Hearn

There are some things you just don’t say. (To your wife). “Wow, those pants make your butt look like the Hindenburg.” (To the IRS). You mean I was supposed to be paying these silly taxes every year?” (To your boss). “I’ve been doing a really crappy job lately; can we move up my performance review?” (To your daughter’s boyfriend). “She looks really hot in her string bikini, doesn’t she?” Well, I said it anyway. (To my fill in crew). “ I’ve never been over on this boat.” That was it. It was now destiny. Before the day was up, we’d be washin’ the sails.

My “A” crew had a social schedule for the weekend that would rival Paris Hilton’s. Perfectly understandable, given that she’d just graduated high school the night before. Enter, “B” crew. Dr. B to be accurate. The Tooth Digger. The quiet one you’ve probably hardly noticed at past regattas. Hardly says a word, always wearing understated clothing. I’ll point him out to you next regatta, just so you know who I’m talking about.

Anyway, it was the last race of the day on Saturday. It was blowing pretty hard, so most of the fleet decided to head in. A 20 and two 18’s were ready for one more, and the 18’s were diggin’ it, because the 20 was finally getting a bit of Midwest payback, being overpowered for the conditions. The three boats were bunched up pretty tight coming into the A-mark rounding, Korte/Windquist with a slight lead over Team Carlson, trailed by me and the Digger. (Damn, that port start didn’t pay off!) Not liking the view at the time, I got a bit too aggressive on the rounding for the blasts that were coming down course and ended up using my mast to check the water depth. “Yup, that’s a pretty deep lake.”

The Digger had decided not to wear his dry suit that day. Hee, hee…. With the cold water I thought for a moment that it might be the first time I didn’t hear the familiar chatter. What was I thinking?! In an instant, he was flappin’ like an ice fisherman outside the shanty in nothing but his underwear. As we righted the boat, the Digger somehow got his bracelet hooked on the rudder casting pulling the boat onto the wind, causing it to take off with Chris getting dragged by his wrist and me holding on to the dolphin striker. He looked like a ragdoll being dragged by one arm by a small child holding her mother’s hand. A bit scary, but I must admit, I was already laughing from the capsize and this just made it like a fart in church. Not wanting instantly to let go for fear that the boat would sail right over me with the Digger in tow, I monkey-bar’d my way to the stern holding on to the tramp lacing (not easy to do when you’re laughing so hard) until I could reach the tiller and turn the boat back into the wind. Unfortunately, Chris’ lucky bracelet was destroyed, but at least his arms are still the same length. We had quite a chuckle about the whole thing as we made our way back to shore to get Chris into dry clothes.

As for other weekend highlights:

• The Carlsons showed up with their new dark grey Infusion with red boards and graphics. Very cool!
• The Johnsons made a good showing sailing their new boat acquired last Fall from the reigning North American F-18 Champion Mischa Heemskirk.
• The Selsmeyers’ new F-18 was there also, sailed by Clay and Alex. Debbie decided Guy didn’t have enough to do so she decided to “break in” their new F18 with the Korte’s Whaler that appears to have some throttle issues.
• Ed got a hole in his 20 hull on Saturday. The Selsmeyer mobile shop patched it up Saturday night. Then Ed decided he needed a matching hole on Sunday.
• Nice party with the Kegonsa Sailing Club Saturday night. Word has it that the CRAW contingent was a bit loud at the campground later that night.
• Sheridan took over for the Digger on Sunday for two excellent races in continuing heavy wind.
• Ninja had an “out of boat” experience which led to a flip before Captain Dave could retrieve him. (He’s thinking a dry suit might not be a bad idea for the future!)

See you all at Petenwell.

Daniel

P.S.: Regatta results are posted here.