Catherine White was ecstatic Sunday morning. Random snowflakes were falling.

You would think she had had enough snow this winter.

“I’ve never been sailing in the snow,” she gleefully announced, before easing her Sunfish off the Edgewood Yacht Club dock and into the steel gray waters of the upper bay.

White was even more excited 40 minutes later when a whisper of a west wind carried her across the finish line for first place in the 63rd race of the frostbiting series. Skippers from the five other boats competing – there have been as many as 12 in the past – gave her a cheer.

That’s the way it is for Sunday frostbiting. It’s a friendly group who go by the name of the Frozen Few, although that doesn’t discount that they’re also out there to win. And it can get a little crazy, too.

That’s the way the race committee, comprised of Daryl Turner and Stuart Malone – who is also Catherine’s husband – want it to be.

There’s the “rubber ducky race” and “tennis ball frostbiting.”

When things get a little too serious, or the wind dies and the fleet drifts along, skippers are handed tennis balls. The object is to hit a competitor with a ball, in which case the skipper must sail a “360,” or circle. However, if the intended target catches the ball, then the ball’s thrower must sail a circle. All of this goes on while the boats are racing, so all that stopping and doing 360s is not desirable.

The rubber ducks were aboard the race committee boat on Sunday. The thick-planked skiff, which has been the icebreaker more than once this winter, serves as the starter boat and is also there to pull sailors from the water.

The ducks offer another whimsical twist to frostbiting. There are only three of them, which makes for the fun. The floating ducks are set adrift in the general area of the windward mark. In order to round the mark, a sailor must have a duck. And once around the mark, they must return the duck to the water.

As Turner pointed out, the ducks make for some unique strategy. Those who usually lead the fleet sail right for the ducks while others head for the mark, in hopes of getting a duck as soon as it’s returned to the water.

Of course, at this time of year the water is often ice and is treated with respect. Neither Dave Saunders nor, for that matter, any of the sailors, tempt fate by not being prepared for a dip. Saunders pulled on a dry suit and neoprene gloves and then strapped on a ski helmet. He was the only sailor to wear a helmet, which was reason to question.

“Every now and then, it [the boom] hits me in the head. It keeps me awake,” he said.

He also finds the helmet does a better job of keeping his ears warm.

Jeff Lanphear, on the other hand, was bareheaded Sunday. He leads the fleet for the season and, by the second race of the day, he was displaying his skill. Lanphear was rounding the windward mark as the rest of the boats were being swept sideways by the retreating tide.

The outcome of that race – the 64th of the season – seemed to be a given. The question was, who would get second and third and who would bring up the rear?

But the only certainty to sailing is that the tables can turn at any time, especially in light squirrelly winds off the Cranston palisades.

And worst yet, so can the boats.