Ready to start...but when?

This Side Up

Posted 9/16/14

Two things that I’m not known for are being early and not having my cell phone.

Saturday, I discovered what it’s like to be early – very early – and also the frustration of not having my …

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Ready to start...but when?

This Side Up

Posted

Two things that I’m not known for are being early and not having my cell phone.

Saturday, I discovered what it’s like to be early – very early – and also the frustration of not having my cell phone when I really could use it. When that was finally concluded, I was determined not to let the episode ruin a perfectly good day.

The day started just as I had planned.

The race was to start at the entrance of Bullock’s Cove at 11 a.m. This would mean we should be ready to leave at 10:30, which meant I’d need to row out to the mooring at 10:15. To do that, the sandwiches would have to be made by 10:10; to make the sandwiches I’d need to be at Dave’s Marketplace by 9:40; and, if I was going to be at Dave’s by 9:40…well, you get the picture. Everything had to line up for me to be at the starting line at 11.

Of course, the start of the race would be the beginning to another series of plans, which, if well executed, could spell the difference between winning and being humiliated. But rarely is it possible in sailing to have it by the numbers. That’s really the challenge of racing. There are so many variables to consider, from winds, tides, condition of the boat, crew and skills and whatever others on the course are doing. There’s unique satisfaction when all of that comes together.

More often, a win is a result of calculated risks, such as picking one side of the course over another; figuring how the tide could be an advantage at a particular location, or guessing that the boat ahead will become overconfident and fail to cover, and, quite frankly, making fewer mistakes than the others.

Fellow sailor Claude Bergeron came to the conclusion that many women don’t care for sailboat racing just because there are too many unknown variables.

My wife, Carol, hasn’t raced in decades, so there may be something to that. Surely, there are women crewmembers (and I know some very good women sailors) but I don’t know any women skippers. I haven’t found the risk-taking of racing is something women generally enjoy.

Being early in sailing is one of those things you want to do, with the exception of the start. An early start can be costly. Being over the line before the gun means circling around and starting again, by which time everybody else is way ahead. Obviously, being too late can have the same result.

But, on Saturday, I was very early.

I went through the morning agenda just as planned. I got what I needed at Dave’s; the sandwiches were made; the drinks chilled; I even managed to row out to the boat, take off the cover and rig the spinnaker by 10:30.

It was about then that I started wondering about my crew.

John Cavanagh, who would be taking his powerboat from East Providence, agreed to meet at the mooring at 10:30. I scanned the horizon. There was no white streak, the first sign of his approach. I could see a sailboat in the vicinity of the start area, but only one. Maybe they changed the start time; maybe I had the time wrong. I looked back to shore. If Carol were trying to reach me, she would have hung a red towel on the fence. No code red.

By 10:45, still no sign of activity. If only I had my phone. I could have learned what was holding everyone up.

Finally, in frustration, I rowed to shore. There hadn’t been any calls. I started making calls and couldn’t connect with anyone. It was now 11:15. A glance confirmed no one else was out there.

Finally, John called back. He was laughing.

“I just checked the website, to be sure,” he said, “The race is tomorrow.”

“Well,” I told him, “the sandwiches are made and everything is ready to go.”

I’m sure he was somewhat incredulous that I had everything ready ahead of time. But by Sunday, the sandwiches were somewhat soggy, although, to be fair, we didn’t actually get to them until after the race.

It was a blustery morning with winds out of the northeast. I wasn’t late to the start but I was early to the finish, and that’s the best way to run a race. Nothing left to chance.

Come to think of it, Carol could have liked this race.

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