MORE SUMMER FUN... August (Part 110a)

One of the things I was looking forward to was in seeing my old boat again. I’d asked Willy how Herb, the man who’d bought my boat for his son, was doing and was told that he’d done really well. That news left me with mixed emotions. I’d never been really happy with the last set of sails I’d bought and I was wondering if they were still using them or had bought new ones. I was hoping that the latter was the answer.

Even though most of the sailors from my old sailing club hated to race at this location (the one located on an island) I did have some friends from the other local clubs that I was hoping to see. The “knocks” on the event included the physical location (on an island), the difficulty in navigating the waters around it and the fact that they scheduled races on Friday, a work day. That last part was somewhat negated by the fact that only three out of the four scheduled races counted. If you couldn’t race Friday you could still win (as I actually did one time) but it definitely put those who didn’t in a “hole”. Friday had been a stormy day and when Willy and I arrived early Saturday morning we found that the Friday races had been cancelled. I was somewhat surprised as the weather hadn’t seemed all that bad. We weren’t complaining though as it meant all the boats would be on equal footing.

We had our hands full getting the boat rigged and launched in time for the first race so didn’t get a chance to get reacquainted with anyone. Out on the water I was somewhat surprised to see so few recognizable faces. As I mentioned in a previous post, Willy and I were at a definite weight disadvantage (about 40 pounds heavy) if we had  light winds and those were the conditions we started with. Even with my knowledge of the local tides it didn’t help. I don’t remember exactly where we finished but it was somewhere in the middle. To rub it in, it was my old boat that won. The only hope we had was if the wind came up for the afternoon race. On top of that I was concerned about being able to get to the race track to race my car that night and had warned Willy that as soon as we hit the shore I was off and running.

Much to my dismay the race committee decided to delay the start of the afternoon race hoping for the normal “southerly” breeze to fill in. While we waited Willy and I had a chance to get caught up with each other. In the back of my mind was something that Willy had told me a few years earlier. In explaining what he did for a living he’d mentioned that his father had bought a parachute manufacturer and it was his job to make it profitable. To me it had seemed too much of a niche business to be profitable. But what he told me that day had little to do with parachutes.

Prior to WWII it manufactured silk products, mostly items to wear but they also made  parachutes. The silk came from the far East and with the war the supply dried up. Also with the war the government needed parachutes for the war effort. The owners of the company, in an effort to stay in business, signed an open ended 20 year contract to make parachutes for them. Synthetics like rayon, and eventually nylon, replaced the silk. At the end of WWII the government demand for parachutes pretty much dried up. The company decided to get back into clothing products but limited to the female population only. Before they were fully ramped up the Koran war started and they were back into parachutes. The 20 year contract was up in 1960 but without it the company was not profitable. That’s when Willy’s father stepped in and bought it. The first thing he did was revive clothing manufacturing but further limited the scope to lingerie and day wear. The skeleton of a distribution system and outlets was still in place basically covering the Southeastern part of the country. The plant was located in Tennessee and Willy moved there. Once he got production increased and products distributed to more outlets (stores) his father wanted to expand to the Northeast and Willy opened an office in the city in 1982.

I let him ramble on before I finally asked about the name of the products. I was curious to know if I’d ever come across any of them. The name was Evette, a brand I’d never heard of. To make conversation I asked if there was a meaning to the name. He laughed and said he’d “inherited” it when his father bought the company. I was immensely interested, as you can probably imagine. The problem was in not appearing to be too interested.

The wind did reappear as the race committee (and Willy and I) hoped. By the time we started we had a nice 10 to 12 mph breeze. For us to overcome our 40 pound disadvantage we needed at least 15 mph. At the half way point we were within striking distance of the lead and almost as by design, the wind piped up to at least 18mph for the last leg to the finish. We won and Willy was beside himself with glee. A few feet after crossing the finish line he jumped overboard. For me, it was certainly rewarding to help him get his first win of the season but it was also bittersweet as I watched my old boat finish a very good second. I’d gotten the answer to my question about what sails Herb was using... they were the same that I’d sold with the boat. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was just a better sailor and wondered what I would’ve done if I was skippering.

On our way back to the clubhouse I casually asked if he had a catalog for his products. Like any good salesman, he did. However, he wanted to know what I wanted to do with it. He had me... for a few seconds. I have no idea where the thought came from but I remembered Judith, the woman who co-owned the drug store in the town where the first bank I’d worked for was located. I knew that she’d opened her boutique type clothing store and told him that I'd like to get one to her. I hoped that he "bought" my reason and that he'd send one on to me.

To be continued...