The Dinghy Regatta

The Dinghy Regatta

As Past-Commodore of the Dog Rocks Yacht Club, it was George McBride's duty to organize the annual dinghy regatta, with the winner becoming next year's Past-Commodore. An organizing committee meeting was held on Houseboat Tralfamadore, and it was almost as crazy as the race itself. Lagoonies from all over showed up in the most amazing assortment of floating vessels, and partied all night, while the few more sober organizers decided everything.

For the 1973 Dinghy Regatta, a course was laid with a starting line in the Lagoon near Compass Point Marina. From there it would be a downwind run to the Inner Mangrove Lagoon, with the next leg a reach to the south and the so-called False Entrance. The race turns back north along the windward side of Bovoni Cay to Rotto Cay in Jersey Bay, then back to the finish line at Houseboat Tralfamadore. The race was planned for Easter Sunday, so everyone could be there, and have the following Monday to recuperate from the madness.

As usual, Cookie volunteered the use of her party boat for the official race committee boat, and a mad scramble was on to get your name on the list as a guest on board. Debts were called in. Bribes were paid. A list was made by Cookie, and everyone else was expected to enter something that floated in the regatta.

Three parties were planned for the day long regatta. Stev volunteered his speedboat for water-skiing at the first "party stop" of the race. Then when everyone reached False Entrance, another party would be waiting aboard Houseboat Freedom. The regatta was planned to end by sunset, at the finish line, Houseboat Tralfamadore. The awards ceremony and party were of course going to be onboard Tralfamadore, with the winner receiving a free pizza, a six-pack of beer, and the responsibility of being next year's Past-Commodore.

I had been preparing my dinghy Flea for a month, dragging her out of the water, scraping and sanding the bottom and repainted her from stem to stern. Fixed that worrisome little fitting on the boom, and restepped the mast with all new rigging. Flea was now white with blue trim, and a Navy Blue gaff-rigged sail. All ten feet of her now gleamed and shone in the hot tropical sun sparkling off the water as we waited for the starting gun. The other 20 or so dinghies milling about the starting line were a motley assortment of anything that could float. Last year I had the fame of coming in dead last in Flea, this year I had a secret weapon on board. Last year Flea looked like a garbage scow, this year she gleamed. Last year I had a crazed first mate who kept falling overboard, this year I was singlehanding the race.

Earlier that day I had arrived at Tralfamadore for breakfast, bringing fresh fruit, and bread rolls. There were about 30 people gathered on board, the lucky ones going aboard the committee boat with Cookie. The crew on the committee boat would be partying all day; while watching the masses of Lagoonies in everything from floating bathtubs to expensive racing dinghies vie for the grand prize of a free pizza on Tralfamadore.
Boom! The starting cap gun had gone off! And a mad scramble was under way along the down-wind stretch to the inner Lagoon. As the winds were light and tricky that morning, I deployed my secret weapon right away, so as to keep ahead of the floating wrecks and other flotsam and jetsam. A huge beach umbrella popped open off the bow of my dinghy. Then I had the fun of speeding ahead of the rest of the boats while hanging onto the spinnaker/umbrella with one hand while holding the tiller and sheet line to the mainsail with the other.
The spinnaker/umbrella lasted long enough to get to the Inner Mangrove Lagoon, when a gust of wind blew it out. Luckily I didn't need it anymore, since I needed to bring Flea into the wind for the next leg of the race, the reach south to False Entrance.

Halfway up the lee shore of Bovoni Cay, the committee boat caught up with me, and as everyone else was so far behind, we decided to anchor, go for a swim and have the first "party stop". Leaving Flea's mainsail luffing in the light breeze with a loose sheet, I tied her off to the stern of Cookie's boat and dove in.
Just about then, Stev and his crew came zooming through on his mayoral speedboat, with a beautiful blonde girl on water-skis. The resulting wave nearly drowned half of the more inebriated swimmers, but everyone managed to get back aboard safely.

The party stop was in full swing! Many mini-tidal waves were churned up as Stev raced back and forth with party-goers falling off of water-skis. A large crowd of floating barrels, inflatable rafts, sleek speedy racing dinghies and half sinking wooden creations were soon clustered around the committee boat, with the crews splashing madly in the water. I was laughing so hard that I started coughing. Then I felt like I'd had a brain stroke, so I crawled back into my dinghy. Flea flew me to False Entrance, and a decidedly more tranquil scene onboard Freedom at the next party stop in the regatta.

I rejoined the partying horde still splashing around and having a wonderful time at the second, and last, party stop of the dinghy regatta. Besides, I was powerfully hungry by now, and the thought of Pizza on Houseboat Tralfamadore was calling me!

A brisk breeze had come up from the northeast, and Flea flew over the last part of the course, beating into the wind bravely. Her flattened pram-style bow bashed through the waves and in four tacks I was flying up to the side of Tralfamadore, surrounded already by about one hundred different dinghys, floating vessels, sinking wrecks and fancy speedboats.

It sure was a good thing that Tralfamadore was already sunken! The sheer mass of peoples weight would have sunk anything. Tralfamadore was a beautiful place constructed on the top of a sunken water barge in a corner of the lagoon averaging only four to five feet deep. Built with solid walls along the north side only, the other edges were available to tie up your dinghy along, and step right aboard. Sliding canvas and wood screens were available for shade and blocking wind and rain. One half of the houseboat was enclosed with screening for mosquitoes, the rest being open for guests and partying.

Tralfamadore was the ultimate party boat in the Lagoon. Her owners, Richard and Dianne, had previously achieved fame for "Pizza Nights" on board their former houseboat the Billy Pilgrim. Located on the dock at West Indies Yachting Services, the crowd at the Billy Pilgrim became overwhelming, and not having any kind of business license, they decided to go even more low-key and moved out into the lagoon and onto Tralfamadore. The crowd followed.

Well, I wasn't dead last, but third from last. I missed getting Pizza, as there were way too many people for Richard to make pizza for in his little propane gas oven. He could put out two pizzas at once, every half hour. Well, there was plenty of beer and fun to be had anyway. And, George McBride won the race again, guess he liked being Past Commodore!