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Trips and Stories
Experiences, Adventures, Tall Tales, Etc.
"We Get to Sail a Race Today"
"Buying and Restoring "Serendipity"
"Fitting Out for the First Time"
"The Trip Home from Lake Erie to Montreal"
Your story here? Send it in!
Miranda's
enjoying the
squall
.jpg)
“WE GET TO SAIL A RACE TODAY”
by Larry Boutilier
This story begins at the
end. Our boat and crew were the first to cross the finish line of
today’s yacht race, the second of three races comprising the Royal Cape
Breton Yacht Club Annual Regatta. ”Catch the Wind”, a Paceship Westwind
24, had never before achieved line honors.
We had won races on handicap
in the past but never like this. On more than one occasion we had won a
race even though we were the last boat to finish. Today the tortoise
had outrun the hares. We had proven that the fable could become a
reality. Sometimes, miracles do happen.
The major reason for our
success was the crew which had been together for the last 12 years. As
the skipper, I had been very fortunate to team up and sail with such
great guys as Emerson and Hook We always enjoyed sailing together and
racing was a pleasure no matter what our result. One thing for sure, we
always had lots of laughs and plenty of food and drinks. Emerson never
forgot to bring the ice, an essential supply on those hot summer days.
He would always throw the first cubes (but never the valuable drinks)
overboard for good luck. It seemed to work well most of the time. Today
we had with us one of our occasional guest crew. Ernie wasn’t always
with us but when he was aboard we had extra ability and intensity.
Let’s get back to the finish. All of the other yachts in the fleet of
18 were astern, including thirty and forty footers. This was a whole
new kettle of fish for everyone involved. What had happened? How could
the slowest boat in the race be the first one to finish? The
explanation for this takes us back to the start of the race
There was a great deal of
frustration as we waited an hour and a half for the wind to reach the
starting area. We could see the ripples on the water everywhere except
in the place chosen for the start line. The race committee was running
out of time. It didn’t look good for a go. Perhaps the race would be
called off. They wanted us to finish before five o’clock for commercial
reasons. There was no way we could sail the original course in the
required time span.
After consulting and deliberating they decided to
shorten the course by eliminating the planned upwind first leg. Well
now, I hear you thinking, what could this mean? It was to be a most
fortuitous turn of events. Fate was taking a part in today’s event in
our favor.
Everybody knows a Westwind is not at it’s best when sailing
upwind. This is the disadvantage of a drop keel or centerboard. In
general, this type of boat will not point as high as a fixed keelboat.
Off the wind, however, we do very well when we are able to pull our
board up inside the hull which reduces our drag through the water and
allows us to hold our own with other boats going down wind. Just about
all races consist of going upwind most of the time. That is the reason
why we had the lowest handicap of all the boats in this race. Normally,
the windward leg would drop us well back in the fleet. We were usually
the slowest boat upwind because of the leeward drift. Today, however,
the course was definitely in our favor. Our Westwind would have a real
good chance to do well because we didn’t have to go upwind. This could
be our day to shine.
Eventually the wind
reached the starting line. The race committee fired the starting gun.
We were off with five other yachts. We were part of the “B” class that
started ten minutes BEFORE the “A” class. “Ah ha “ you are thinking.
Yes! The first leg was a reach to the Point Edward red navigational
buoy. Reaching was one of our strongest points of sail. The wind gods
were being good to us for now. This was getting to be serious fun.
(Contradiction intended) As we sailed toward the first marker the wind
was very flukey. First one boat then another would catch a breeze to
take them ahead only to leave them windless as the others moved in
front. At first we did well, leading at times, then dropping back a
little as the wind favored the other boats. Halfway into the leg, the
gun went off for the start of the “A” class. They could be overhauling
us shortly, but there was no time to think about that now.
As we
rounded the first buoy to port there were two boats close ahead. They
were slightly bigger, a Cal 25 and a Ranger 26. Both had lead mines
(keels) fixed to their bottom to slow them down. Our first order of
business was to tuck the centerboard all the way up into the hull. Then
we took our time setting the spinnaker very carefully. All too often we
had rushed to raise the chute only to have it wrap around itself or
around the forestay. I was never a huge fan of spinnakers. They were
often more trouble than anything else and you could lose a lot of time
getting them to set. This time the sail went up properly and we could
feel the boat pick up a little more speed. In a few minutes we gained
on the boat ahead, the Cal 25 “B. Badenough” By sailing directly behind
we could steal their wind, slowing them down. They tried hard to
prevent us from passing, using every trick they could think of. Slowly
but surely we caught them and gradually sailed ahead.
There was only
one more boat in front. Looking behind we were pleased to see no one
was catching us. Now we were inching up on the leader, thanks to our
raised keel. Our sails were stealing “Saila’s” wind. They did not look
happy as our boat eventually gathered enough speed to go by on
starboard. A few choice comments were passed our way. We could only
smile back. Now it was their turn to blanket us, and it was working.
They were slowing us down way too much. Our spinnaker was collapsing
occasionally. What could we do to escape? Trying our best, we went left
and then right, but to no avail. Then the light wind dropped a little
more giving us a slight edge. Gradually the distance between increased
enough for us to escape their wind shadow.
By now, we were half way
down the last run to the finish. Some of the bigger, faster “A” boats
were gaining quickly with their huge spinnakers pushing the powerful
hulls through the flat water. Would they catch us? Not today! The ten
minute head start was enough to keep us ahead.
It is hard to describe
the elation we felt as we crossed the finish line. There was pure
happiness and a sense of accomplishment. The intensity of the race gave
way to relief. No boats were ahead. They were all behind. This was our
finest moment ever in the many races over the years. Never before and
probably never again would circumstances lead to such an unlikely
event.
Were we just plain lucky? Yes, of course. Just as important, we
were at the start, in a position to take advantage of the opportunity
that was given us. What I learned on the day was that anything could
and does happen if you show up enough times. You never know when you
are going to get that perfect, priceless sail or race. When it does
happen you will remember it for the rest of your life. This was the
most enjoyable race I had ever experienced.
The result, (first overall
on handicap as well as first to finish) was very satisfying, but there
is something even more valuable. Every race is a joy to be treasured.
When we leave our mooring and head to the starting line I like to say
to the crew; “We get to sail a race today!” What more could you
possibly ask for? Two races? Ernie Banks was right on!
Larry Boutilier
“Catch the Wind”
Sydney, Nova Scotia
(Back to top of page)
(This story is "Under Construction")
Buying and
Restoring Serendipity
By Jim Schroeger
Serendipity
is a 1967 Westwind by Paceship. When we first saw her I was reminded of the old Kingston Trio
song "Tom Dooley" The
line goes:
"This time tomorrow, reckon where I'll be;
down
some lonesome valley, hanging
from a white oak tree"
That's exactly what she was doing: hanging from a
tree; or actually four
jack pine trees, with a scruffy old boat trailer as her neighbor. Her hull was faded and scarred,
her decks were covered with pitch and pine needles, she had a foot of slimy
water in her main cabin, her cradle boards were no where to
be seen and her cushions were sticking out of the cockpit like a big blue
tongue.
In spite of this and more interior terrors yet to be
discovered; I fell in love with her! Why? Because she was a Westwind and in
spite of all the crud and abuse she still had the look of a
thoroughbred!!
The trip
home on the rickety old trailer was the first of many renovational adventures that we would
share with this soon to be queen of my heart.
The pictures will give you some idea of her condition when she arrived home. The pictures of the
hull were actually taken after three weeks of filling, sanding,
fairing and more filling and sanding. You can throw a little cussing into the
mix too, as some intrepid boatwright
had used a belt sander to remove some hull defects. In places her hull looked like a gravel
road ...
.
The interior was even worse!! There was no original
wood work, the main cabin
bulkhead was gone and
replaced with a badly fitted piece of treated plywood. All the
plexiglas windows were the color of old milk bottles, with the exception of
the main cabin starboard window, which was just plain missing. The
storage compartment doors and drawers were all de-laminating and bore a
strong resemblance to a week old pizza.
....
.....
In spite of all this we set to work with
a vengeance; "what the heck,
nothing here that time, money, blood,
sweat and tears can't take care of; right??"
... 
As it turns out I was right about
the time which turned out
to be almost one year, no comment on the money, I would say blood and sweat were in about equal
parts, but no tears at all! The work was a joy, she came alive under our
handycrafting. Each enjoyable task accomplished led to another
until one day; she was finished. There were hundreds of little victories; each
one of which could make a separate story.
But maybe that will come
later....
Oh, I do have one
comment about the money. The old owner was so anxious to sell the Westwind that he
threw in three pick up truck loads of marine equipment to seal the deal.
Over the winter we sold most of the extra goodies on ebay for more
money than we originally paid for Serendipity. Our Westwind came with a
dowry !!
Finally, the day arrived. Here she sits on her new trailer (see "Projects and Maintenance)
ready for the big trip:
...
..
.
.
..
...
And now it's time to enjoy the fruits of our labors!
Jim Schroeger
"Serendipity"
Traverse City, Michigan
(Back to top of page)
.
(This story is "under construction")
Fitting out for the first time ("photo story")
by Duncan Cameron
Catspaw was stored
indoors,
...then finally back in the water after 12 years
... 
The repaired spreader. We broke it, but
managed to get it re-welded two hours later, on a Saturday afternoon!
No wonder he's got a sheepish grin, that's awful lucky!
.....
(that's Mac, the previous owner, on the port side)
Ready to try raising the mast again...
Whoa, don't rock the boat!
...
Duncan Cameron
"Catspaw"
Montreal, Quebec
(Back to top of page)
(This story is "under construction")
The Trip Home from Lake Erie to Montreal
By Duncan Cameron
It's quite a long way, from
buying the boat in Port Clinton, Ohio, to getting it home to Montreal,
Quebec (650 miles).
The boat's previous owner, Mac, asked me if I realized what it would
cost to truck it to Montreal. I said, "It doesn't matter, I want to sail her back" ( I had July and August available).
Mac's instant response was "I want to come with you!" And so a great trip began:
Mac took a week of holidays, and we headed out, up Lake Erie, on
July 20. It would be Mac's last sail as master of Catspaw, and a great
introduction to her for me. I lined up friends for some parts of the trip past Lake Erie, and
planned on getting used to singlehanding for the rest (not everybody
has July and August off).
We strategized a bit
about the Lake Erie weather - the storms are
known to be strong and difficult to predict. We originally
thought we might wait for a good weather "window", then just go
right up the middle of the Lake. It would be sailing around the
clock, standing
watches, and would take about 48 hours. This would end up at the
entrance to the Welland Canal, ready to transit into Lake Ontario.
As it turned out,
despite both being
adventurous types, we had a fit of common sense. Attempting a 48 hour
blast in a 35 year old sailboat (that hadn't been sailed in twelve
years) didn't make any sense as a shakedown cruise. We set out to
do a 30 mile daysail across Lake Erie, to Leamington Ontario, instead.
The winds were light W to SW, which suited us fine
for the run north.
It was very pleasant going up through the Lake Erie Islands,
which are a popular vacation and fishing area. The wind died off,
though and we needed to resort to
the 1976 Chrysler 10 hp two-stroke halfway, as we crossed the border
into
Canada. It
showed no objection to going back to work after a twelve-year layoff,
and never complained for the fifty hours it ended up doing over the
rest of the trip.
The wind did come back enough to get up the big reacher for the last
part, and we got into Leamington just before dusk. Customs was a five minute phone call, and we were all set.
The next morning, I got my first lesson in
manouevring the Westwind under power at close quarters. With well over
5,000 lbs, and the rudder in front of the prop, I soon learned you
can't spin on a dime, unless you're in reverse. (Later on, I learned to
make a virtue of a necessity, by backing
into slips, while onlookers mistakenly admired my skill!)
The
following day's run was a bit longer, about 40 miles out around Point
Pelee, and up the coast to Erieau. It was pretty uneventful, except for
a bit of confusion about some strange yellow buoys. Later
we found out they marked a firing range, so 'live and learn'!
Mac had a sad phone call that evening
though, and had to leave in the morning to attend a funeral. I
was about to begin my first single-handed experience, for the rest of
the
way up the coast.
The following day's run was 45 miles to Port Stanley,
with a following wind all the way. This proved to be a mixed blessing,
as there were the typical short, steep Lake Erie waves on the quarter.
I couldn't manage to get the whisker pole out before she'd gybe, and
the Autohelm couldn't even come close to maintaining a
course. I was pretty tired of hand-steering and keeping the sails full, wing-on-wing, by
the time I pulled in ten hours later. Still, I'd managed
fine on my own, so it was pretty satisfying.
to be continued.....
in the meanwhile, here are a few of the pictures:
Enjoying the hospitality of the Port Maitland Sailing Club,
at the Lake Erie outlet of the Thames River.
.....
The tall ship Empire Sandy, and a companion, in the Welland Canal
(between Lake Erie and Lake Ontario); at dusk
Toronto, as captured by my son Bruce with his 21st birthday digital camera
....
Sunset on the twin beacons of Coburg Harbour,
halfway up the Canadian shore of Lake Ontario
The delivery crew for the final leg up
the St. Lawrence River and Seaway
(Duncan, D'Arcy, and D'Arcy's
daughter Miranda)
...........
The gates opening at the Eisenhower locks, opposite Cornwall, Ontario
An evening ashore for D'Arcy and the skipper
...............
Freighter
going through the locks at
Beauharnois,
the last ones
before
Montreal!
Big smiles after a great trip, home again at the Baie D'Urfe Boating Club
on Lac St.-Louis in Montreal!
(Back to Top of Page)
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©2004 Larry Boutilier, Duncan Cameron and Jim Shroeger
