There must be a pretty good book just involving the Key Largo Steeple chase.

If you don't want to embarass yourself, how about ratting out a buddy?

Tad, has your last misadventure at Tradewinds gotten funny yet, or is the wound too fresh?

While you were having your misadventure, I was bobbing along in the middle of the Hobie fleet, sort of trying to control my drift to a key off in the distance. Arie was with the boat. . . somewhere. . . trying to get back aboard.

Sailing, you gotta love it.

My ego is still pretty bruised ... its become a damn fine motivator to get better though. We really had no business travelling to that regatta and sailing in that kind of wind. We had only been on the boat once together before, and that was in 5-10 wind, single-trap conditions. I was still scared of the boat.

At the risk of exposing myself to a bit of #35, and some #176, I'll go into what happened. Todd will give me **** for it, but thats ok.... I deserve most of what I get.

The short story: Make sure your battens are triple-knot tied.

The long story:

The night before we left for the regatta, I was scouring all of Northern Georgia for a 5 pole to 4 pole converter box for my lil space buggy truck's trailer pigtail. Mine had burned out or something, and I didn't think that driving 13 or so hours without trailer lights was a good idea at all. I finally get one, at a hot rod shop of some sort and I make my way back to my house to install it.

Along the way it starts ... snowing.

Wonderful. Snow. I think to myself "screw this - tomorrow I'll be in Key Largo and everything will be great."

Four hours later, the damn lights still weren't working, but at least the pigtail was working. Awesome. It snows some more. I'm on my back, in the snow, rewiring trailer lights. "Tomorrow I'll be in Key Largo, and everything will be great"

So finally I get everything together, and go to pick up Bailey in Atlanta. We get no more than 20 minutes away when he realizes that he had forgotten his laptop. Being a business owner, he needed to be working while travelling, so we turned around in downtown Atlanta and headed back to his house. Its about 6pm at this point.

Back on the road again. Get on 75 south. We get to the perimeter (the beltway around Atlanta) and the red lights start popping up. Lots of them. We come to a stop and realize that people are getting out of their cars and walking around. Not good. At this point, I turn to Bailey and go "God is telling us that we aren't supposed to be going to this regatta." He laughed then - I'd be crying later.

The traffic stole my enthusiasm. I've done all-nighters in the past, but after sitting still for 2.5 hours, no more than 50 miles from my house, the last thing I wanted to do was drive another 12 hours. We stop in Valdosta and get 4 hours of shut-eye before making our way down again.

Luckily the rest of the trip down was uneventful. We got to Founders park around 2pm and started setting up the boat. We were in Key Largo, the weather was beautiful, and I was around all my buddies. Life was finally good.

Overnight, a front pushes in. The wind was probably 15, gusting higher.

I was nervous, I'll admit it. I'd been crewing on a N20 for years, even driven it a fair amount when I sailed with Trey. But this was new. I was the one responsible for the boat now... I was responsible for where it went, what it did, and who it hit. It was just then that I realized just how much I trusted Trey and how much I really missed sailing with him - but he's gone on to do his own thing, much better than he did with me dragging him down.

We got out to the course. We set the chute and were hauling butt down to the start line. The wind was blowing so loudly that we didn't even hear the horn, but we got up to the line about 30 seconds to a minute late. We were overpowered, and I couldn't help but feather to keep the boat under control. We miraculously rounded the A mark, and jib reached over to the offset without incident. We got the chute up and started heading down to the C pin. We overstood it a bit so we lower the chute and started screaming towards the mark.

Thats when things went tits up.

We got to the C-mark, and I couldn't get the boat to round up into the wind without getting way overpowered. In hindsight, I had the sheet and traveller blown. What I needed to do is center the traveller, sheet way out so the main was twisted off. Also needed a lot less rotation in the mast.

We go past C, I keep trying to stick it up, but can't. The photo boat was right in front, so I turn to Bailey and go... "I'm just gonna stick it up, but we're gonna go over"

I stick it up and we flip. Woohoo!! Bath water!!

Except on my way down to the bathwater, I catch the boom under my arm. Ouchies. I can't breathe. It hurts. Like I said, ouchies.

In my pain, we both manage to get separated from the boat. I was trying to breathe and Bailey was more concerned about me than the boat. Warren Greene and John McKnight come zooming over and drag us back to the boat, going at least 3 to 5 knots on its side.

We get the boat righted after about 5 minutes. The bows didn't want to spin around in the current or something.

We get back on board, and Bailey realizes that the battens are gone. All but the bottom two. John was plucking them out of the water. Fantastic.

We decide its time to hit the beach. Problem is, its upwind. No battens == no sail shape == no going upwind because the sail just acts like a giant parachute. We reach around for a while but when I try to get back upwind, we go over again.

I'm exhausted, in a lot of pain. Warren and John come back to us, and I tell them that we can't get upwind, and that I'm having a hard time breathing. They keep me on the boat, and toss a tow line to Bailey. He ties off the boat to the mast post and start dragging the boat on the "tow of shame" back to the beach on its side.

Crab pots. Lots of Crab pots. Getting stuck in the rigging. Finally Warren decides to avoid a large batch of them, and ends up turning the mast to the wind, and the boat rights itself. Bailey grabs onto the rear beam and starts body surfing behind the boat as it accelerates right at the tow boat. Bailey heroically pulls himself onboard and at the last second, pulls the tillers to windward and manages to barely clip the outboard housing of Warren's boat then the tow line tightens and the boat goes over again.

Luckily the only damage was to my boat. You can see the damage clearly on Jake's site. He's a saint for fixing my boat. I'm forever in debt to the man for making my baby whole again.

We finally make it to the beach. Bailey took the sail down with the boat on its side - trashing the sail.

Total damage was a trashed main, a broken spin pole, and a bow that split open like a clamshell. The force at which it hit the outboard housing, I'm very suprised that there wasn't more damage to the bow or to the housing. Small blessing there.

We pack up everything, and drive home. Along the way, on the turnpike around Miramar Miami, while pulling out of a toll plaza, one of my trailer tire fender mounting bolts shears off at the trailer frame and causes the fender to fall on top of the tire - causing it to explode.

What was really touching is that the ENTIRE N20 fleet stopped to try and help. Even Capt. Kirk called and asked if he needed to turn around. Turns out that my spare tire lug wrench wasn't deep enough to get the bolts off. Even JC couldn't break the nuts off with a standard ratchet handle. Took a very nice road ranger dude with a breaker bar to get it loose.

I'm grateful for a learning experience such as this. Its given me a reminder as to how bad it can possibly be, and that losing a race isn't the worse that could happen. Its also a good reminder as to who you're friends are and what they mean to me. I've already publicly thanked everyone that helped me along the way that weekend, but its never enough. Warren and John, thanks for plucking my butt out of the water and keeping us safe. To JC for trying to pick my trailer up with his ratchet handle - and to everyone else who helped lift my spirits that weekend. Oh and to Jake for fixing my boat

... oh and to Todd for constantly reminding me how much of an **** whiner I am

Just shows you how far you have come. In Lake Lanier a few weeks ago in gonzo gust conditions you did a horizon job on us. In our defense we were capsized with a crew shaped hole in the main, but you guys were GONE!

Thanks dude, We still have a long way to go. We've sailed a fair amount together and have gotten that trust between crew and skipper that is essential in those conditions.

Okay, I will put my pride on the line and tell my story. Three years ago I bought a Hobie 18SX and put large sails on it. We drove up to Austin for a two-day distance race. I was somewhat experienced with cats but had very little experience with a high performance machine with large sails. It was blowing pretty good that day, in the high teens, and the start was a downwind start. My problems started long before we got to the racecourse. When I had the sails built I was adding a large square top pentex sail and I went with a pretty large overlapping jib of the same material. At the time I was naive and thought bigger was better. We set off from the ramp at neck breaking speeds. Mistake number two was made, we never cranked any downhaul on or reduced mast rotation. This was an effect of hanging on for dear life and not having the common sense to either A. Realize we were in over our heads or B. Think through the problems and better manage the boat. We are beating to the starting line double trapped when my crew lost his footing and over to windward we went. The boat immediately did a full turtle. Surprisingly, we recovered in pretty short order and headed off to the start line. We are quite early to the start line so we begin reaching back in forth behind the line. The second capsize came due to one of two errors, either I headed up in a gust and sent my crew sliding down the tramp, or he slid down the tramp on his own, regardless, the net result was the same, over we went, again into a full turtle almost immediately. Once again we recovered, but not so fast this time. We were now severely late for the start but that’s okay, we were not finished yet. We needed to tack to get back to the start line but for the life of me we could not pass the eye of the wind. Hindsight being what it is I realize now that the traveler was not centered. My keelboat days got the best of me and I had forgotten that I didn't have the momentum of all that lead to push us through. Finally in frustration I turned very fast into the wind and a tack we did. The only problem was that I caught my crew off guard and the jib back winded. The huge jib took very little time to capsize the boat, which of course led to a full turtle. At this point I was exhausted and just wanted to cry. We were only a few yards from the only part of shore that was not lined with limestone and the wind was blowing us there. We righted the boat to capsize only position and held it there while the wind took us to the shore. Once there we righted the boat, which was hard as hell thanks to the mast being full of water. I had already decided at this point that I was done racing for the day. We soon realized we were more done that we thought. Every carbon batten save two was broke and poking through my almost brand new sail. Once on the beach we doused the sails and began to walk the boat around the perimeter of the lake toward the yacht club. The lake was lined with limestone so it was a real challenge on the ankles and feet to fend the boat off the rocks and make forward progress. At one point in time there was an encounter with a snake that looked as scared as I. The rest of the day was uneventful and the booze helped to build our egos back up. All of the sail damages were puncture wounds in the batten pockets, which were quickly fixed with sail repair tape. The lessons learned from that day are invaluable. I now think through my problems versus trying to just survive them. We now have a 16:1 down haul on the boat. The jib has been sold and a new one added. The replacement is very blade like and I have now added a self-tacker as well. Many attempts to seal the mast were attempted but never successful. The mast has since been replaced with one from a Tiger and turtles are now rare. A pretty embarrassing day, one of many that occurred that first year with the new SX on steroids. We went to almost every race that year and only started in about 2 or 3. We only finished one which was a distance race in light air, I think we took second in that one, but only because of our rating, certainly not because we were superior sailors. Through practice, and asking more experience friends to come out on the boat and show me tricks we now sail very comfortably in higher wind ranges. We are still working on the tactics aspect and consistent driving.

Hey Tad,
Just remember. What don't kill ya, only makes ya stronger.
Your adventure is a perfect example.Sounds like you figured out your errors,what more could you ask for?
Y'all doin' Steeplechase?

is there still a march thru the mud at the end of day 1? what a bitch after a long day on the water

The one and only Lake Pontchartrain regatta 1.5 yrs ago. Doing poorly during the last race but having some fun. We overstood on the way to A mark pretty significantly. I thought to myself... well we're going to have to reach some... gotta grab the trav (I was driving and crew was managing the mainsheet). I grab the traveler and go out on the wire - the crew was already there. Next thing I know.. SPLASH. forgot to hook in. Interesting site watching the boat sail away (was really well balanced!) and a grin on my crew's face. Bent the heck out of the new tiller ext. We laughed and laughed about it which was nice because my crew (co-owner of the boat at that time) was pretty pissed at me because during one of the starts I managed to put us into irons and had a really ahrd time recovering.
Come to think of it, that was the first regatta I actually traveled to. Good time though I we got blown out the second day. I can now imagine the frustration of driving 500 miles to get blown out! This was only about 2 hrs from where I lived at the time.

"is there still a march thru the mud at the end of day 1? what a bitch after a long day on the water"

Rick said he'd fix that this year. Plus word on da street is there's a spring tide that weekend. Maybe more of a beach issue than a mud issue.

Todd

Can't do steeple or tradewinds this year. I'm simply out of vacation time at work and those regattas require travel time.

My most fond "claim to shame" involves that very "march in the mud" at Steeple day 1.

Southwesterly winds made it a long and puffy slog down Key Largo, and Slaughter and I were pretty worn out.

Yes, we should have overstood the line and tacked over to reach over the little cut to the finish, but that would have been too intelligent.

So, we pointed straight at the finish bouy, which was now lying on DRY LAND due to the falling tide.

Somewhere between our position and the finish bouy, the shoal caught us, and grabbed a daggerboard, forcing a tack. Unfortunately for us, that tack put us right up on a nice channel marker resplendent with a full complement of barnacles which made such a nice scraping noise along the hull gelcoat.

So, Slaughter and I jump overboard to control the boat. Sinking rapidly into chest deep muck, we realized that this was going to be a long 1/4 mile treck to the finish line.

No one told me that there are little sea wasps in that muck, either. So, slowly dragging the boat in the muck (getting the itchies) toward the line was one thing. Watching two boats sail by us (they took the other route) was not exactly the "high" point in the day.

The final straw was having to carry the boat (literally) over the line. It was ankle deep at the time.

After cleaning up, the final boat to finish that day enjoyed a nice sail over the line, as the tide had risen enough to clear all that shoaling.

Good times.....

Best part - I still like that race course! Someone shoot me!