Battle of the Bay: O’ertaken

Once again, the Battle of the Bay fell within the mandatory blog blackout period following the Gorge Downwind Champs. However, I’m assured that the Committee often turns a blind eye to brief race summaries provided that they “portray surfski paddlers in a positive light” and avoid ancillary alliteration. Hardly seems worth writing anything under those conditions, but here goes.

While last year’s race was hastily reorganized to a rip-roaring downwinder, with modest wind conditions we’d be reverting to a course similar to 2016’s. You may recall this as the route so distasteful to Jan Lupinski that he instead created his own alternative course, persisting for two laps even when it became obvious that nobody was following his lead. From the dock of the Conanicut Yacht Club, we’d head out around buoy G11 near the House on the Rock, retreat up the bay to a stanchion of the Newport Bridge, return to G11, and finish back at the Yacht Club. Assuming no detours, this would be about 6.25 miles.

Wesley really took Sean’s recommendation to “keep his arms up” to heart.

I knew it. They’re pod people!

Attracted, no doubt, by the prospect of humiliating post-race novelty costumes, Sean Rice once again joined the Battle of the Bay. To help cover his expenses, he also scheduled a few clinics and private lessons in Jamestown. As in previous years, Sean would provide us with a sizable head start, then blow by us mid-course as if we were moored.

After the first wave start, Chris Laughlin and Jan quickly took the lead on an inside line. Hoping to catch some of the outgoing tide, I stayed further out initially, but quickly revised my tactics and angled over to join the leaders. By the time I caught them, Jan and Chris had switched places (but, showing little imagination, had remained in their own boats). I pulled onto Jan’s side wash, then slid back to his stern as Chris dropped off the pace. We remained in this stable configuration, bucking a moderate headwind, until arriving at G11.

I had assumed that Jan would pull away during the subsequent downwind leg, but surprisingly I was able to maintain contact as we both enjoyed some decent runners heading toward the Newport Bridge. With our speed matching that of the wind, the warmth and humidity of the day became increasingly apparent. I was just starting to build an unhealthy dread of having to duel Jan for the remainder of the race in these muggy conditions when I unexpectedly caught and passed him. At first I figured that I must have surged ahead on a fluke run, but as I continued downwind to the turn-around abutment, I realized that Jan had fallen well back. As it would turn out, he had imploded in the heat.

Presenting a strong finish requires perfect synchrony with the photographer. (Photo courtesy of Olga Sydorenko)

Sad Jan makes me question the existence of God. (Photo courtesy of Olga Sydorenko)

I spent the remainder of the race awaiting to be passed by the one-man second wave. Of course, I wasn’t disappointed. With a half-mile to go, I spotted Sean overtaking me on an outside line. He would ultimately beat me by 8 minutes in what was for him only a 45 minute race. So I still have a little room for improvement. Jan would finish third with hard-charging Kurt Hatem (who had overtaken a heat-flagging Chris on the final leg). Mary Beth nabbed the top women’s spot.

Despite years of studying their ways, Greg could never truly pass as human.

The remainder of the day was spent grabbing lunch at Spinnaker’s, watching boats from the cliffs of Fort Wetherill (hold on a second – is that Kurt doing out-and-backs after racing in the morning and then attending Sean’s afternoon clinic?), and enjoying a lively group dinner at Tim’s. The next day we’d again get schooled by Sean, this time in his all-day clinic. Thanks to Tim and Alyce for hosting the festivities and to Sean for slumming it with us in good cheer.