While the majority of the paddling and rowing community in New England made their way to the venerable and justifiably popular Lighthouse To Lighthouse race on 9/10, a handful of the commuter-phobic went instead to Devereaux Beach in Marblehead for the 1st or 2nd or 3rd attempt by the Rotarians to revive the Great Race.

2011 Marblehead Rotary Great Race
1st Place – Francesco Urena (right)
2nd Place – Mike Tracy (center)
3rd Place  – Mike McDonough (left)

For those in need of a history lesson, the original Great Race was a fixture on the North Shore for many years going back to the early 70s. It’s origins were as much of a bar bet as the Blackburn – in this case the question was – could you get from Watertown to Marblehead faster by running on land, or paddling by water? Led by a contingent from the Northeastern University Cross Country team, the runners arrived first during the initial event; if you can dig out a copy of the Boston Globe with the picture of the winners, you will conclude that they actually managed to consume most of the beer before the water contingent arrived – at least that’s how I remember it.

By the 80s, the race had morphed into an event hosted by the Polish Club in Danvers – a 20 mile bike race on land, and a 15 mile race from Pope’s Landing in Danvers around Misery Island and back. One of these was actually my initial entry into paddling, attempting the race in the fog in a 106 lb wooden Old TimeCanoe – kind of like a surf ski, only wider, heavier, slower – well, OK,nothing like a surf ski. But I digress.

The Race then disappeared as a major event, due I believe mainly to logistics and liability insurance concerns. Various attempts to revive it never brought it back to prominence. The Rotary tried the past two years, concluded they needed some logistical help, and contacted Donna Lind from the Blackburn Committee to aid with timing and such – and we come to Saturday’s event.

Aside from the short commute, and knowing the race would be well run, I was intrigued by the proposed course – Devereaux Beach around Marblehead Neck, across the channel to Childrens Island, then back – only seven miles, so what’s the big deal? Well, those of us who paddle regularly from Beverly know that this is one interesting stretch of water. You have an unrelenting mix of rocky shoreline (can you say refractory waves?), shallow ledge (unexpected swells), open exposed Atlantic Ocean, and basically the powerboat equivalent of Route 95 – every boat headed out of Marblehead, Salem, and Beverly Harbor that’s going to open water or Boston goes through the channel that we are scheduled to cross twice, and amplifies whatever waves are already there thanks to Mother Nature. It is never, ever, ever flat. (Let’s not even talk about what this area looked like during Hurricane Irene.)

Click to View Francisco’s Garmin Connect GPS Race Track 

So, Mike Tracy, Mike McDonough, Francisco Urena and I decided that we wanted to try this course out. The forecast was for light NE winds and 1 – 2 foot seas, high tide around 11:00. We arrived separately around 8:30, and the first thing that struck me was that the sea breeze was already up – that, plus a small but persistent swell hitting the beach that would make for a tough launch for the sliding seat shells.After registering, I bumped into an old friend and co-worker, Dave Brewin, competing as usual in a traditional rowboat. We expressed our concerns about the potential for danger that this course had, including the fact that the very large and very swift and very heavy and very, very large Salem Ferry was likely to come through the Channel on its way to or from Boston.

Well, enough background … on to the race.

Donna sent boats out in typical Blackburn fashion –paddleboards and traditional wood boats first, sliding seats next, then one combined heat of all kayak classes, and finally two of the Boston Outrigger club boats that paddled over from Salem.

The kayak start was somewhat predictable – Francisco was blazing off the line first, Mike McDonough second. Mike Tracy had his video camera on deck, and started slowly enough that I may have made a cameo appearance for the first 15 seconds or so before he passed me, and things got to normal – the three of them in a tight pack pulling away from me. Somehow, I was staying ahead of the rest of the kayaks, including Leon Granowitz in an 18x, Preston Ford in a V8, and Matt Drayer in a wood sea kayak. Even more encouraging, by the time we were going through the channel between the southern tip of Marblehead Neck and Tinkers Island, I realized I was gaining on some of the sliding seat boats, so even when (not if) I lost contact with the skis, I’d still have some other boats to chase on the course – it can get lonely back here.

With a North East wind pushing waves into the right front quarter of my ski, and a high tide, the prospect for rogue swells going over the many shallow ledges seemed low – but the refractory waves were extending seemingly hundreds of yards off shore. So I decided to go wide, to try to deal with just the pure ocean conditions. A very visible chase boat in mid channel between the end of the Neck and Childrens Island made a good target, plus many of the shells were on that line,so off we went. Half way across the channel, I’m encouraged – I’ve survived a few hits by abdomen-high waves completely swamping the cockpit with no ill effects, and I’m still passing some of the shells. A year ago in these conditions, I’d be moving very slowly if at all.

Waves are breaking strongly on the southern end of Childrens, so I take it wide, along with another shell. The Big Three skis are by now out of sight around the back of the island. I get a little more tentative around the back, so as not to be swept by quartering 2 – 3 foot swells into the boat marking the halfway point (is the halfway boat really a 40 ft wooden Chris Craft yacht? Only in Marblehead). The northern end of the island is the last calm stretch we’ll have, I drink some water and head south back to the Channel marker to complete the lap around the Island.

As you leave the lee of the island, you’re getting back into 2 foot seas – but now they are beam, not my favorite. 50 Yards from the bell buoy that marks the turn, I do something stupid, and swim just as I’m overtaking another shell. But the remount is easy,and I’m back in quickly. The shell and I make the turn at the same time, and head across the channel, with the waves now quartering off my left shoulder.

Heading home …one swim, no big deal … but why is that chase boat passing 200 yards in front of me from left to right into the Channel, at what looks like full speed? Oh, I see, it’s just trying to get away from the Salem Ferry, which is approaching from Boston and headed into the channel at it’s full speed …

… Now, please understand, I like the Ferry – my wife and Itook the trip into Boston on it two years ago for our anniversary, spent the day walking through the Greenway above the Big Dig, had a fabulous lunch at one of the uncountable number of Italian restaurants in the North End, saw the many spectacular views of the shoreline from the top deck … … you should try it sometime …

… but you really don’t want to see it passing 100 yards in front of you in mid channel at full speed, when you’re in a 30 lb surf ski in 2+ foot confusing seas, and you realize that it’s wake is so extensive that its going to be bouncing off every inch of shore line in front of you for the next two miles. I decide to take a rest … I drop my feet in the water until the immediate wake in front of me hits, and then I proceed. I’m still doing OK – the Ferry didn’t hit or swamp me, the following seas are tough to catch, but so far so good. 

About a half mile or less past Marblehead Rock, once you get back parallel to the Neck, is an exposed rock called Thomas Moore – exposed, except the spire that used to mark it was destroyed in a winter storm two years ago. And today at high tide, TM just isn’t visible at all. I’m trying to go wide of where I think it is, when suddenly the combination of the basic conditions, the remnants of the Ferry wake, and the increasing refractory waves create some weird condition where the boat spins quickly left and what was a following wave becomes beam and rolls me over. And now it takes me three times to remount successfully, because my paddle leash keeps dragging the paddle under the boat. A chase boat comes by to visit, but I’m underway, and hopefully he didn’t hear me drop 5 or 6 f-bombs in disgust of my clumsiness in big seas. 

I go another few hundred yards, nearing a green channel marker that I suddenly remember is close to Thomas Moore – isn’t it? Have I just paddled over the top of Thomas Moore? I opt to go inside the marker, get past it by about two boat lengths, when suddenly the same thing happens again – turn left uncontrolled, except this time the hole that I’m in is so deep that the oncoming swell hits me about neck high.

Three swims in two miles – and by now, the shell that was with me and that I had passed back at the turn buoy is ahead of me by a hundred yards, Matt Drayer has gone by and is about the same distance ahead as the shell, and I can hear the “Hut Ho” of one of the outriggers closing on me – dear god, don’t be the outrigger that has Gina in it – Gina Lampassi, my physical therapist, former outrigger teammate, CARC committee member, and past Blackburn winner –if she’s been watching this incompetent display, I’ll never hear the end of it.

But it’s the 4-man boat, not Gina’s. I’m back on the ski paddling as best as I can to stay upright and just survive the next slow mile in ugly following seas until I get past Tinkers and head back to the timing boat. And when I finally get past Tinkers and the last shore-based ledge, suddenly a miracle occurs. In seemingly flatwater for the last half mile, the ski starts behaving like a ski – it is picking up every little swell and small wave, and it feels like it is flying. I get past the outrigger as if they are moving at half my speed, and nip the shell just before the finish line – I was closing on Matt, but ran out of room, he beats me by about10 seconds.

On the beach, the report from the big three is on the one hand typical – they finish over 15 minutes ahead of me, worse than my usual,but when you swim as much as I did … But there are also some surprises –Francisco, the runaway leader for most-improved paddler this year, has beaten Mike Tracy on a very bumpy, Tracy-esque course. And Mike McDonough was thrown from his boat, swimming not once but twice – the first time all year, in either races or workouts – and apparently at the same spot where I got into most of my trouble – somewhere near the well-hidden Thomas Moore rock.

We debated the obvious – how tough was this short race? Apparently, at least a few of the shells turned back, and a tandem flipped over near the halfway point – this is not a surprise, and any passing thoughts I ever had about trying the Blackburn in a rowing craft have been wiped out today – going backwards in these conditions is not something I’d want to try. Additionally, the only real surfing by anyof the skis was in the last half mile– Mike M reports his GPS hit 9 MPH in this stretch; no wonder I got by the 4-man so easily. But even with following seas from Childrens Island back, none of us really surfed it well. MikeTracy described the conditions as “technically challenging” … maybe not the biggest conditions of the year, but among the most complex and memorable. A few of us paddled portions of the course a week earlier, and Dave Lind (Donna’s husband, another CARC member,and a very experienced sea kayaker) summarized it this way “a good course, but you really need to know what you’re getting yourself into”. Mike T is working on the videotaken from his deck, and I can’t wait to see it.

Post race activities were fun, logistics were excellent, a nice venue on a very nice late summer day. With a different race date (not competing against a popular, well-established race), and a few minor tweaks (like publishing the Ferry schedule!), maybe this new version of the Great Race can be as historic as the originals. ~ Bill

Click to View Additional Photos by Calvin Falk