SUMMER... Looking to the future (Part 85d)

Elle and I were back at the sailing club around 7:30am and there were five visiting boats already there. Elle and Carol were handling registration and Rex and I were directing where the out of town boats were to go. I had hoped that I would have a chance for a few VPL’s or the like while doing it but for the next 2 hours it was just plain hectic and that didn’t happen. We were blessed with plenty of sun, low humidity and what looked like ample wind and I couldn't wait to start racing.

I made a point of having Elle steer the Class official to see me after he registered. I’d sailed against him in my first National championship races some seven years earlier but didn’t really know him. When I saw this tall, geeky looking man headed my way I did sort of recognize him. As he approached he called out my name and introduced himself as Henry. An attractive woman followed and he introduced her as Liz, his wife. She looked younger than he did and, in my mind, I wondered how did these two get together. I explained that they would be staying with my parents. I also explained that, because they lived on a private road, trying to find their house would be difficult. I told them it would probably be best that when the day’s races were over that they follow me over. Henry agreed and when they turned to leave I had my eyes focused right on Liz’s backside. Even though she was wearing a pair of pastel pink checked bermudas I definitely got a small VPL and made a note to check her out again later.

Part of my duties for the day was to see that every boat got launched which meant Elle and I were the last to leave shore. As I said, we had adequate wind to race but it was a long way out to the starting line The starting sequence (5 minutes... 2 minutes... 1 minute... 30 seconds) had already started and with around 30 boats maneuvering to get a good, clear start, I had a difficult time finding a place to fit. We ended up buried in the middle of the fleet and I was unable to break free ending up around 20th. As we headed for shore for the lunch time break I noticed Cat’s boat seemed to be among those closest meaning that she done well. I almost couldn’t believe it. Maybe I should admit that I didn’t want to believe it. If it were true... good for her but bad for me because I’d sold (almost given away) those sails to her.

As soon as I could I tracked Cat down and found that she’d finished third. I had a hard time believing it because some of the best sailors in the class were racing including two former National champions. When most of the boats were at anchor and the skippers and crews were ashore there was a “buzz” that was going around. They were saying that there was a “protest” against Cat. (Now, I’m not going into the myriad of rules that sailors race under. However, there are a set of rules that are International in nature but in this case it was a “class” rule that had been breached.) Buried in the Comet Class Racing Association rules, in extremely fine print, was a rule that stated that no two boats in competition with each other may show the same registration (sail) number. Cat, sailing with my old sails, still had my sail number on her sails as did the sails on my boat. As the “news” traveled around the beach almost no one had ever heard of the rule and, more importantly, couldn’t see what difference it made as long as the boats had been registered with their correct hull numbers (which they had). With a class officer there (Henry) he was besieged with questions about the rule. In a rare case of candidness he admitted that he was unaware of the rule.

Needless to say but Cat was very upset. People that didn’t even know her came up to offer support. What I found somewhat interesting was that the guy who filed the protest finished behind me. If the protest was upheld (protests are held in front of a committee made up of non participating sailors after each day of racing) he would only gain one position. I couldn’t figure out what he thought he was gaining by the action. I didn’t know him but knew that he had raced for years. I remember asking one of the “out of towners” about him before we left to race the afternoon race and got a simple description... “He’s an ass hole!”.

Before we all left shore I helped remove the offending numbers from Cat’s sails. I felt badly for her and tried my best to keep her spirits up. I also kept my eyes open for any kind of panty “look“, be it a VPL, a DP or an honest to goodness peek but wasn’t that lucky. The sails had pretty much covered her lower extremities as we sat there removing the stitches.

The wind had shifted and the prevailing Southerly had come in at about 10 miles per hour as we all left shore. It was perfect for racing. As we maneuvered around awaiting the start I pretty much knew that I wasn’t going to be in position for a trophy because of my poor finish in that first race. I decided to seek out the AH and to ”cover“ him as best I could during the race. (Covering a competitor means trying to position yourself so as to disturb the air {wind} going to his sails) With less than 30 second to the start I was able to gain a favorable position on him and managed to hold it for most of the first leg. I don’t remember how far back we were by that time but there weren’t many boats behind us. He knew what I was doing and if he cursed me out once he did it at least a half dozen times. I remember feeling somewhat proud of myself.

Cat managed to overcome her disappointment about the pending protest and pulled out a very decent finish. I ended up about the same as in the first race but did manage to pass the AH. As I did I noticed that he had another protest flag flying and thought it might be against me for aggressively ”covering" him that whole first leg. I remember hoping that he had because I wanted to be in the protest room against him to let him know what I thought of his action against Cat.

To be continued...