Thistle East Coast Fall Series

Hopatcong Regatta

Full results

Since Lawton and Mcbride were not in attendance, I figured I'd take on the role of fleet scribe for the week. More importantly, I can demonstrate to someone that I can use my college degree for something other than sailing and skiing.

My weekend began a day early as I left work to go get my life jacket and boots from Cedar Point. As I arrived at the club, Lawton's van was in the parking lot and Kreuzkamp's van had a funny sight attached to it. At first glance, I thought it was a boat, but it had some new covers on it, so I figured it was something for work. But sure enough, my eyes did not deceive me and my dog and I walked over to Matt and got a tour of his elusive (almost as elusive as 603) Thistle 216. Matt has sent pictures, but it really is a sight to see an ALL white boat. Gianni Cuccio even had some serious influence as much of the hardware corresponded to the hull color. After a thorough tour and a chat about how awesome the Fontelieu is going to be, I departed for home with thoughts of how great the weekend was going to be at Lake Hopatcong.

Fortunately for me, I planned ahead and decided to not take the 1:49am train out of New York like the week before and woke up refreshed and ready to go as I drove over to Kristen Barnard's apartment (she was going to sail with Brent Barbehenn) and then proceeded onto Chris Pollak's house for the trip down to New Jersey. Enroute, we stopped at a deli and picked up some bacon egg and cheeses which Kristen and I knew would be essential for the ride down. When we arrived at the home of 603 at 6:55am , Sharon Bernd, our forward, was already helping Chris pack up the car to go. We left around 7:05am and past stories of Lake Hopatcong immediately filled the van. By the time we were on the highway, I was fully versed in the ways of this New Jersey sailing mecca.

The rest of the ride was hazy as Sharon and Chris talked about which bridge to take and Kristen and I passed out in the back of the van. I can only guess the trip down was quick because I woke up in the parking lot with plenty of time to spare. Upon our arrival, everyone remarked about the new condos which have invaded much of the entrance to the island and the new pavement in the parking lot. As we unhooked the boat, there was much activity and we quickly realized that this regatta was going to be a dogfight. Much of the Rochester contingent had made it down including John Baker and Bill Wilson. Brent Barbehenn (with Charlie Bailey and Kristen) was there racing 3839 and Lloyd Kitchen and Chris Murphy (on the heels of his wedding next week) were there to add some local competition. There were 24 boats in all. After rigging, the Lake threw it's first curve ball at the fleet (the first of MANY) as one of the hoists stopped working with a boat in mid flight. Yet the owner did not fear because twenty able bodied Thistler's came to the rescue. The engineers pondered over several options before a conclusion was agreed upon and the boat was lifted up and returned to the trailer. It was about this time that Lloyd called the skipper's meeting. A very low key meeting was held with a lot of starting times being followed by "ish" and the fleet dispersed to put the boats in. Just about this time, Sam rolled in to the parking lot with boat in tow and waved to the entire regatta saying"we made it!"

The fleet finally got out on the water around 11:15ish and sailed down the lake towards the starting line. A little drizzle accompanied the sail out but subsided for the rest of the day. The usual shifty and puffy conditions immediately showed themselves although I was told that what we were seeing was a "steady" Hopatcong breeze. This idea was cemented in my mind later in the day. The first race got off after the E Scow start and everyone seemed to have a clean start. Us, Baker, Wilson, Brent and Lloyd (sailing with a 12 year old opti girl as forward) started working the shifts up the middle. We were in a nice pack until Brent broke off to the left around the point and legged out nicely. Downwind, there seemed to be a little bit of a right shift and again, staying in the pressure was paramount. On the next upwind, the positions didn't seem to change too much and Baker took the bullet. We finished the race in fifth. The fleet went in for a leisurely lunch and came back out for two more races.

The next two races proved to be significantly more challenging than the first. The mantra of "the lake giveth much less than the lake taketh" seemed to be adopted on every boat. The right seemed to pay more often than not but we also found some rare luck on the left. Linking the pressure and shifts together took an immense amount of concentration and it was easy to get frustrated. But those who persisted were rewarded and recorded the best finishes of the day. In the second race, Brent took the bullet while John Deermont took the bullet in the third. At any time, everyone was a hero and two minutes later, they were a zero. At the end of the day, Baker was in the lead with Brent in second, Chris Murphy in third, John Deermont in fourth and Bill Wilson in fifth. Team 603 was one point behind in 6th. After an exhausting day, there was much discussion over the whys and hows of the day and the keg was kicked in record time. The dinner consisted of a great cream of tomato soup, salmon and roast beef. It was enjoyed on the porch overlooking the lake and the stories of years past, many of which were started in the car on the ride down, were shared. The party spilled over into the bar where the famous painkillers from nationals were brought out and many people stumbled home with enough social lubrication to last a week.

The next morning came early but we were greeted with glimpses of sunshine and good breeze. The forecast was for significantly more breeze than Saturday and it did not disappoint. As we sailed to the race course, big shots allowed us to surf under main alone. The E Scows rocketed past and we knew we were in for some serious hiking conditions.

We started the first race in the middle with Baker below us (a theme that seemed to be consistent all weekend). We had noticed on Saturday that early on, it paid to play the left up to the point then start working the middle a little more after that. The leaders thought the same thing and we all bounced off the shore until we got into some better breeze. We focused on linking the shifts and pressure together to work up towards the mark. Weplayed the final few shifts well and rounded the top mark in first with Murph, Baker and Brent on our hip. We went right down wind with some pressure while the others jibed away and rocketed past us. Oops. As we approached the bottom mark, it began to get really squirrley and the rocking and rolling ensued. Murph narrowly avoided a capsize and took his chute down early. We did the same and rode the last 25 yards under jib and main. Lloyd, with his 12 year old forward rode the chute all the way in and rounded just behind us. That was humbling. The same strategy worked on the second upwind and our weight seemed to grind down the leaders but we ran out of race track. Baker took the bullet just nipping Brent. Murph nipped us at the line as we finished fourth. Wilson rounded out the top five.

The fifth and final race started in some big breeze. There were points where mains were ragging and crews were fully out. The beat was tiring and I believe we rounded the top mark in third with the usual suspects. As we put the pole up, the topping lift suddenly came off the mast and we realized we were to be poleless for the entire downwind leg. Deermont passed us as this debacle played itself out. Once we calmed down a little, we kept pace with everyone sans pole. As we approached the leeward mark, we started getting hit with some serious puffs. There was a point where one puff blew the chute back into the boat because it was a 180 degree shift. Deermont put his jib up but we held on and the wind backed around again; but with significantly more velocity. Up ahead, Wilson nearly went over and suddenly we started to violently rock. Before Sharon, Chris and I knew it, we had deathrolled and were all in the water with the main still up in the air. The water was less than warm and the boat soon turtled. As the fleet sailed by, a chase boat came around and we attached a tow line to the shrouds the pull the boat back over. After several minutes, this was successful and we bailed and sailed the boat dry. Needless to say, we were all disappointed as we lost many places due to the DNF. We sailed in in a breeze which consisted of 30-40 degree shifts and 15 knot swings in velocity and were happy to hit the shore. After the boat was packed up, the awards were announced and everyone departed. The top five were Baker, Brent, Murph, Wilson, Deermont. We finished 10th and I am not sure where Sam finished.

On the ride home, we stopped at a fabulous road side grease pit called Davy's and gorged on hot dogs, burgers, mozz sticks, copious amounts of fries and milkshakes. Needless to say, we were all hungry after the weekend. After feeling thoroughly stuffed, we hopped back in the car and Chris threw on some "different" music. This consisted of three guys singing various pop hits from the sixties. We all had a good laugh. Chris even had an autographed CD case. The interesting medley of hits persisted for an hour. All in all, the entire trip was a success. Challenging sailing, great partying and great people. Pretty much the same scene you'd find at any Thistle regatta. The consensus in the car was that we will all be back.

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