2009 International 110 Class District One Championship Regatta
It was great to get back to Hull, MA. A weekend of fierce competition against some of the top racing teams in the country. As usual, racing a 110 is like going to a knife fight! There were a total of seven boats competing for the impressive, Francis E. Charles, trophy. Four of these boats placed top four at last years National Championship in Hull. The trophy is forty-seven years old this year. Looking back at some past winners, I noticed some familiar names. Norm Cressy won in 1964 & 1965; Jack Slattery in 1978, 1990 & 1991; Anna Longstaff & Oakley Jones in 2001; Various members of the Craig family have won it five times over the last twenty years. Mark Van Note and I won on my other boat, #631, U.S. Blues, in 2005. Steve Clancy has been holding this trophy hostage for three years with some vary impressive boat handling skills. It appeared as if he would continue racking up engraving bills until the last run in the last race. Tensions were high.
We arrived Saturday morning at the Hull Yacht Club to find the conditions were sunny, hot, and the breeze was light. Launch at high noon, harbor start at one, first gun at two. Bill Bradford was kind enough to run the race committee, set a good course, and get us started in frustrating conditions. Heading off on a one lap windward leeward using three minute dingy starts, we were about ten seconds late starting at the boat. Ross and Eli must have been a minute and half late as they had sailed off to never never land for some reason?
Off we go with Will Laidlaw camped out to weather of us on starboard tack. We headed straight up the middle of the course, pinned in place by Will. Clancy got off to the left, Anne and Ross start digging into the right. We were actually looking okay. Seemed like there was more breeze coming in on the top right side of the course. Mark asked Will if he felt like going back right? He peeled off and we followed. Mark did a great job of pointing to windward and maintaining great boat speed in minimal breeze. As a result we worked it up to weather, and got away from Will. A few tacks later and we were headed towards the port tack lay line on starboard tack. Looking back at Will who had stepped it all the way up to the starboard tack lay line; I urged Mark to tack sooner and get over there, hoping it would give us more time to sit on Will’s breeze and set him back a little further. After we rounded the mark and looked back, things were looking grim for Will. A few other boats had converged on the mark as well. We had forced him to sail in bad air long enough that he was no longer making the mark. Boats were getting by all around him. It was brutal and he got stuck in a horrible position.
Breeze was getting very light, keeping the chute filled required constant attention and patience. The race committee weighed anchor and headed down to finish us at the leeward mark. What happened next was incredible. Looking back to see an old wooden boat, #271 Wild Thing, crewed by the father and daughter team, Tom and Maggie Craig; neck and neck against a new fiberglass boat, #753 Pow Wow, crewed by Tom’s wife and son, Anne and Ben Craig. What an awesome family! I guess if you cannot beat them at home, you can beat them on the race course. Maggie squeaked out mom at the finish. Mark and I could not believe our eyes. We were dumbfounded at the sight that had just unfolded before us. Will Laidlaw and Dennis Bell were not far behind. This left Ross Weene and Eli Slater back on the course to duke it out with Steve Clancy and John Murphy. Neither one of these guys were going to finish last without putting up a fight. They were willing to try anything to get to that line first. The chutes came down, jibs unfurled, there was sculling and pumping, I was surprised I did not see a paddle come out. I think they realized at some point we were all sailing circles around them under main alone having finished already. These guys followed suit and went main only as well. The boats actually got going and these guys participated in a slow motion drag race towards the finish. Boats coming in on port with one length to go and Clancy attempts to tack onto Starboard. The boom never goes across, but he is screaming for rights. Ross shuts him down with force and glides across the finish, winning by inches. It is late, we need time to shower up before dinner and the big reggae party, the race committee sends us in. After day one, with only one race completed, Screaming Pelican is in first place.
A wonderful evening at the Hull Yacht Club. Special guests Dave McGrath, Joe Berkley, and Ed Cotter made cameo appearances. We woke up at Clancy’s waterfront estate to a perfect view of the race course. The skies were dark, and it felt like it was blowing thirty on his front lawn. I am positive every member of the trapeze union was thinking the same thing, “Oh Crap!”. Lucky we were not cracking open bottles of champagne at one am like that dusty skipper over there. We went out for breakfast with Ross and Eli. As usual Mark and I were totally entertained. Eli shouted out hilarious stories, Ross substituted every item in the kitchen sink omelet, employees and patrons were horrified. Back to the club for a civilized noon harbor start and racing at one. The breeze was down to ten knots, the water was flat, and a little sun was poking out. Things were looking up for the trapeze union. Nice sail out to the course and the breeze started to get shifty and gusty, “Oh Crap!”.
Race one, Anne and Ross head off left to Nantasket Beach, Clancy heads right towards Boston, the rest of us are headed up the middle. Anne and Clancy were miles away from each other up the beat, after all of that, they rounded the windward mark together. Starting the day in last place, Clancy wins the race. We end up fifth and start doing some math to figure out who we need to look out for. Anne is in first with five points. We are now tied for second place with Maggie at six points each. Clancy is in third with seven. They send us on a long twice around for the second race. We plan on going right, Clancy is headed off the edge of the world towards Boston again, and we end up going left. The breeze off Bumpkin Island is going from nothing to huge blasts. One hits us and we round up, then I get tea bagged. I have so much saltwater up my nose, I can still taste it. Now I am all shaken up and we have a ton of this weather coming at us, and it is only getting worse. We finally get there, then dig and claw our way down wind. The puffs and waves threaten to flip us over all they way down the leg. It was not the worst conditions we have been in, but it was pretty sketchy. Clancy wins another race.
Starting to lose track of the scores, but we are pretty sure we now have to win the next race, defend against everybody on the course, and really come through. The gusts are building, the sun is gone, I was ready to go home before we break something. These are the kind of times you have to man up and remind yourself there are a couple of hundred pound little girls out here racing. If they can do it, we can too. Off we go, final race for the regatta and anybody could win. Clancy is launched again with Murphy hiking like a champ. We are plagued with demons on our boat. Line is getting caught up everywhere and we are collapsing with every tack. Starboard tack lay line, we get a chance to take out Clancy and blow it. Now we are worried about Ross and Maggie coming in from the left, and they get by us. Rounding the weather mark in fourth, we delay hoisting the chute. Everybody is having enough trouble and we are planning down a wave with the jib up anyway. We catch our breath, see Clancy a mile ahead and set the chute. We pass Ross, we pass Maggie, we are diligent and try to keep it together. A nice run surfing waves and Clancy wipes out on the jibe. They swamped their boat and things look bad. We round the leeward mark and finish in first place. We knew Clancy had this locked up and just like that we were going home with the trophy. It was a moment of pure bliss.
A big thank you to ours hosts and race committee from Hull. We are looking forward to the possibility of an Atlantic Coast Championship soon in Newport. If not, we will see you all in Canada.
Sincerely,
Mark Van Note & Josh Hill
#239 Screaming Pelican
