Carolina Cup 2019

Racing Alone, Not Really.

by Lisa Malick

The simplicity of the name alone suggests the elite nature of the event, which draws top competitors from around the world. According to their event page on Paddle Guru, the race became the largest and most competitive SUP races in the world. Even though it is not touted as the most competitive races for surfski, I’d heard enough stories of the Graveyard course and the event. So my husband, (JC Malick) and I loaded up our skis and double bladed paddles to join the SUPs at the Carolina Cup.

I entered the Carolina Cup as the only person in my division, racing on the Graveyard course: a technically challenging, 13-mile loop around Wrightsville Beach. There are two inlets: Mason’s Inlet and Masonsboro Inlet. Mason’s Inlet can be so shallow that you can wreck your boat or have to walk through sections. Masosboro Inlet can be rocky if you go the wrong way and is full of swollen seas. The flats can be reasonable, but for the boats that is the start and end of the course – so some technical parts of racing strategy might come into play. The six or so mile stretch of the ocean can be a washing machine, downwind, or perhaps flat. There were no other women skis in the Graveyard longboat course, and also no OC1s or prone.

At the start of the race, I felt only a little bit lonely. Mostly, I was determined to do well. I was definitely well-supported. All of my male counterparts were welcoming, as always, and possibly seemed more concerned that I was the only Stellar team paddler amongst a pack of Epic and Nelo paddlers.

As we floated and bobbed along the starting line, I could feel my stomach fill with butterflies ever so slightly. I looked around at this field of buff, sweaty guys. Wow. These guys were fast. Like, really fast. Even the outriggers, perched behind us and awaiting their slightly delayed start, seemed quite a bit faster than the local field I was used to racing.

For the first mile or two, I held on to the main pack of men led by Scott Cummings. We passed under a few bridges and could hear and see so many people cheering! It was pretty neat to paddle on such a spectator-friendly course and to have so many spectators (even if many were there for the SUP races). Strangers yelled: “Look! It is a girl! Go girl!” and “Get ‘em, girl! Catch those boys!”

The course was pretty spectator-friendly. My husband decided not to race this event, and he biked around the island, cheered everyone on, posted on social media in live time and took pictures. He was there as I exited Masonsboro Inlet, exhausted from being tossed every which way.

I rounded the north end of the island, having lost some ground on my great friend Michael Canfield. Again, more cheering. Again, more comments. In local races, I can always count on Laurie Perkins to lift my spirits at the end of a race, but it felt like I had the whole island pointing out the uniqueness of my endeavor. It felt…great. It, plus the gel I’d managed to choke down before entering the inlet, gave me the strength to finish stronger than I’d ever finished a race before. I ended up running in hand-in-hand, tied with my friend Mike (but only after I paddled hard enough to catch back up!).

The irony of the entire event is that I made the mistake of equating “only one” with “alone.” For a brief moment, before we began paddling, I felt like I was entering into the race alone. While it is true that I thought the Graveyard course different from anyone else that day, due to a different build and craft than other competitors, I was by no means alone. I had the entire lead pack of OC1 men coaching me into Mason’s Inlet and guiding me through the only navigable path. The core pack of surfski guys got me off to an encouraging start. Mike Canfield and I raced as partners, and it certainly wouldn’t have been as happy of an ending without him. JC ran around to ensure I was cheered on the entire way. Even after the race, the race organizers recognized my 1/1 accomplishment, including how I stacked up against the men.