Mel and Greg awoke early for the regatta. Mel donned her “The Amazing Marvin” T-shirt and took down the laundry hanging on the line in the aft cockpit while Greg stowed the small catamaran which was strapped to the hardtop of their big catamaran. This is normal prep stuff for a race, right? They pulled up their anchor and picked up their noble crew, Gary and Brian. Instructions ensued, and they practiced some pretty decent tacks and gibes as they prepared for the race.
And they’re off! In 8-10 kts of wind on the beam, The Amazing Marvin hits 6 kts in a gust as he heads for the starting line, but then the wind shifts and dies and he squeaks through at 4.4 kts. Marvin further thrills the line judges when he then promptly goes into irons during a sloppy tack and stays there for, like, 5 minutes. You know, so the judges would have time to appreciate our gleaming, spacious hulls. I mean, look at all that storage! Is that a forward cockpit? Big windows! As the helmsperson, Mel knows that the whole thing was all her fault but she still has no idea how it happened.
The harbor supplies us with six to nine knots of true wind for the rest of the race. Great. Might as well ask a goat to push a cart of rocks up a hill. No, not rocks. Diamonds. I mean, we look good while we dog it! Nevertheless, Marvin does a pretty decent job sailing by all of the boats anchored right in the middle of the racecourse without hitting them. In fact, during the long, slow broad reach leg the crew were even able to have conversations with the onlookers. Really, really long conversations. We were also able to watch two monohulls almost crash into each other trying to be the first ones to overtake us. Calm down, guys. You both will pass us soon enough.
As the trimaran passes Marvin for the third time, even though there are only two loops through the course, Mel thinks to herself, “Sure, they’re fast, but where in that thing could you stow Halloween decorations and ukulele practice books?” We did not check our time as we went through the finish line at 4.4 kts, but all four aboard had fun and finished the race with all ten fingers. Between us. Just kidding. Forty fingers. Relax.
The best part about this is that we can blame: Light Wind. We know we don’t do well in light wind. Since we have mastered “Tacking in light wind without screaming at each other,” we are keeping the kids on board for the next race, which is tomorrow. We’ll get Allie to work on her parade-float wave. If she waves fast enough, maybe we will have enough wind!
LeAnne Larson
It’s always a good day when you post, but this is hysterical!! Loving every story and picture. But still miss you!