On August 25th I received a Facebook message from Ken Cooper: “Dana. Going to Lighthouse race ??  I’ll do the V8 14 mile if you do too.” In fact I had just booked a steamship reservation that morning for passage off Martha’s Vineyard on Sept. 5th, with Lighthouse-to-Lighthouse as the objective. Having spent the bulk of the summer paddling long distances at sub-120 heart rate in preparation for my 52-miler around MV on August 9th, I knew those relaxed days were history– and it was time to start pushing my Stellar S18S at higher speed and HR in preparation for what was to come. Ken did not disappoint at Norwalk; after a fast start we settled in side-by-side @ HR 155+, then he slowly pulled ahead with the rock-solid stroke I’d become all too familiar with watching from behind at Blackburn back in July. I do all my paddling alone and as such have no drafting skills, but did tuck in right behind as we closed in on Pecks Ledge Light, and stayed there until we passed Goose Island– at which point we became confused by a bright orange race buoy further out in the Sound…. did we need to stay to the left of it before bearing west offshore of the Norwalk Island chain? (a check of the chart later revealed that to be the turn buoy for the 7-mile race) At that moment of confusion, Eric McNett and Jim Mallory came roaring by in the V10 double and, since they headed for the buoy, Ken and I did too; I exited Ken’s wash and returned to side-by-side racing.

Dana 1st, Ken 2nd, Bob 3rd in the SS20 Class of skis.

Dana 1st, Ken 2nd, Bob 3rd in the SS20 Class of skis.

Can’t recall exactly when I took over the lead, but from the buoy on it was a slow punch alone to windward with speeds below 6 mph, overtaking the sea kayaks and some of the rowing shells. Since the HPSurfskis had started ten minutes later this year (rather than 5 the year before), it was very lonely out there all the way to Sheffield Island, when suddenly the bow of a Fenn Glide Elite caught my peripheral vision about 5 feet to port, and I glanced left to see Austin Kieffer indeed glide by at high speed…. only then did I also glimpse Ken directly behind, right on my tail; so much for any delusions that I’d pulled ahead to a measurable lead. Boris and Reid came by next, slightly to starboard, so I got to watch the elite boats round Greens Ledge Light and choose their lines for the return leg. Having punched into short chop for 30+ minutes to the turn, I was looking forward to downwind payback once around the Light (no dive boat this year, and therefore no swim like last!)

Once through the turn, we were faced with threading a tight needle between the huge number of HPSkis bearing down from the east; I chose to veer slightly south of the straight course line, in hopes of picking up a better angle on what small runs were available– and I did find a few beauties, but by and large the seas seemed smaller than those we’d paddled into on the windward leg. And suddenly, it was hot… and I mean H-O-T…. as speed kicked up around 7, which was probably identical to the windspeed in the exact same direction, making for dead air with a brutal sun right overhead. I had hoped that the few 8+ mph runs I’d hopped on had dropped Ken– but delusion is a powerful thing, particularly when the brain is overheating. While I was focused primarily straight ahead, I did detect an HP ski slowly passing 100 feet or so to port, glanced over quickly and spotted Ken right behind him, on a line somewhat closer to the islands…. so there we were, side-by-side again, separated by 50 yards or so but on converging courses as we made our way back east, trading off the lead while slowly baking in the relentless heat.

We now had lots of company with a mix of HP Skis and OC-2s; as we passed Copps Island I could see the orange buoy again and realized that no boats were honoring it; indeed all began to make a beeline for Pecks Ledge Light when it came back into view and then, like dominos, veered back to starboard as we realized we needed to pass to the right of Goose Island (I’d made exactly the same steering error the year before, but forgotten about it entirely). Rounding the southern tip of Goose neck-and-neck, we suddenly had Mark & Sean scoot by us to starboard, with their usual cheery banter. I decided then and there that I was going to match their speed as best I could, as the light breeze began to provide the slightest degree of relief from the port side while our speeds slowed a notch in the crosswind and strengthening ebb current. I locked in 50 feet or so behind the double on the line to the lighthouse…. and two or three inadvertent taps on my stern let me know that Ken was right there as Beata came cruising by to port. It was definitely helpful having faster designs on both sides all making for the same objective– even though conditions slowed dramatically after the final turn buoy, with the course to the Finish dead into the wind and against the current. I made my best effort to close on Mark & Sean, and avoided looking over either shoulder until the Finish was within 100 feet or so; a glance to the right and there was Ken’s bow overlapping and gaining…. 10 more strokes and we “ran out of racecourse”, just in time for me– only 2 seconds separated us over 13.25 miles.

Ken and Dana at finish

Ken and Dana at finish

Given how threatening the forecast had been that morning, it seemed a miracle to have such benign conditions not only for the race but also the great beach party afterwards. While none of us were expecting a Bataan Death March in early September, all survived with smiles and many enjoyed refreshing swims post-finish. L2L is indeed a Blackburnesque exclamation point at summer’s end…. and here’s hoping next year’s does set an all-time US record for surfski entries!