Noroton hosted the 23rd
annual Kirby Cup Team Race on September 24th and 25th. This
year's event enjoyed two days of spectacular champagne fall Long Island Sound
conditions - providing excellent breeze and mostly flat water for four
round-robins among the five teams.
The competitors came with tight, competitive racing teams and brought
the same energy to the dinner on Saturday night, gathering around the
kegs and enjoying live music and a lovely fall evening on the deck and
patio. There were many good conversations to discuss the races and
semantics of team racing rules, reviewed in a spirited but of course
good-natured manner!
Seawanhaka Corinthian Yacht Club won the
weekend after a tiebreaker with Larchmont Yacht Club, with the Noroton ``Brady
Bunch '' winning the Peter Wilson Fair Play Trophy. The Varsity
Norton team got its weekend moniker because Conor Brady, our long-time Sailing
Director, returned to helm one of the team's boats.
Margo Kirby (front
row, 3rd from left) and the first place Team from Seawanhaka Corinthian YC.
Team Captain Al Constance holding the Kirby Cup perpetual trophy
(2nd from left). Photo by David Trost
The Peter Wilson "Fair Play" Trophy for the team displaying solid
sportsmanship was also awarded after racing. The organizers polled all
teams for their vote on who displayed sportsmanlike behavior throughout
the regatta. Four teams voted for Noroton YC's own Brady Bunch. We are
very proud to have sailors who play hard and play fair.
Regatta co-chair Elizabeth Wolf, and
winning team helms: Florian Eenkema van Dijk, Tucker Hersam, Connor Brady. Photo by David Trost
We were thrilled to have
Margo Kirby present the awards to the winners along with Rear
Commodore Scott Harrison, who also helmed one of the Team Noroton boats. Until
his passing last year, Bruce (and Margo) Kirby were members of
Noroton YC for over 40 years.
We're very appreciative of our own Glenn
Morrison, who was PRO, and an excellent group of Race Committee volunteers who ran
40 races over the two days - no small feat in Saturday’s shifty, puffy
Northwesterlies. A big thanks to Chief Umpire Britt Hall, and Umpires Peter and
Carolyn Wilson, Lee Morrison and TK - all Noroton YC members and experienced
team racing umpires. And special thanks to Noroton YC's new sailing director
Bryan Paine who also served as Bosun, and regatta Co-Chairs Elizabeth Wolf and
Michael Rudnick.
The full results of the weekend are
below, with some pictures:
1st: Seawanhaka Corinthian Yacht Club (12
points)
2nd: Larchmont Yacht Club (12)
3rd: Noroton Yacht Club “Brady Bunch”
(10)
4th: Noroton Yacht Club “Not Varsity” (3)
5th: Pequot Yacht Club (2)
Photos courtesy of David Trost, who was
also part of the Race Committee.
Full Results Here
This year Jr. Sailing created
a new award. The Karl Ziegler ‘Coach of the
Summer’ award is given each year to the Noroton Yacht Club instructor
who teaches young sailors to love sailing by being patient, supportive,
inspirational, and a role model for good sportsmanship.
Following a long history for
our junior sailing perpetual trophies, an important
tradition is that many bear
the name of a former junior sailor or Noroton member who made significant
contributions to Noroton Junior Sailing over the years. One person who embodies
those characteristics is Karl Ziegler.
Karl Ziegler grew up sailing
at Noroton. The youngest of six children in an active sailing family, he was
initially daunted by the wind and seas off our harbor. It is rumored that he
occasionally hid in the old lockers and snuck home if wind was up so he didn’t
have to sail his small boat. But sailing with his father and siblings
eventually instilled a passion for sport and the rest is history.
Karl imbued that passion to
our lucky juniors as an instructor in our junior program in the 1980s and later
to college sailors while a coach at Yale University. He also was the head coach
to the Darien High School Varsity Sailing team for many years, leading them to
win several Gold Cups for both team and fleet racing in the NEISA CT Sailing League
and to National Championships, winning the US East Coast Championship. The top
high school sailors claimed that sailing with, and against, Karl in practices
was the key to adopting a winning strategy.
Beginning in 2010 when
Noroton started to get involved in team racing at events on the east
coast,
Karl became a leader of our teams, helping them to win the Hinman Masters
four times and the Grand Masters six times. As TK (Tom Kinney) said,
“Karl was our
spiritual leader and coach: more recently, Karl was one of the main
reasons
Noroton became one of the leading team racing teams. Sailing with Karl
is a joy and privilege. He
is a quiet skipper, appreciative of his crew while emphasizing the
Corinthian
spirit. He brings others to know and love the sport and to sail
honorably."
2022 Recipient: Lizzie Crager
The 2022 Sears Cup on Lake Michigan
by Wells Connor, Emmet Ennico and Thomas O’Grady
Earlier this month we had the honor of representing Noroton Yacht Club at the Sears Cup. The Sears Cup is the US Sailing Youth Keelboat Championship, in which twelve teams, one representing each of the 12 Regions, compete over three days. The event was held at the Macatawa Bay Yacht Club off of Lake Michigan in the VXOne class, a sporty boat similar to the Viper.
Our team had a chance to
really bond during the invaluable training we received in the Sonar and Viper at Noroton and in the VXOne through the generous support of boat owners at
Cedar Point YC and Sail Newport. When the first day of the regatta came, we
were ready!
Racing Recap by Thomas:
The first day had marginal
conditions in which we were depowering at times but always pushing the boat to
the limit. We worked the boat downwind better than any other team because of
our prior apparent wind experience in the 29er, and so we ended up winning 3
races and being OCS in the other one.
The next day, we saw nuclear
conditions with more than 20 knots of breeze, a challenge for us as we were the
lightest team there. Before the first race of the day, our Gnav bar (made of
carbon fiber) snapped. Our coach motored back to the club to grab a spare and
came back within minutes to make the repair. In one of the races, we were
sailing downwind and were crossing a starboard boat. However, they hopped on a
plane and were able to get the VMG they needed to cross, and we threw ourselves
into a gybe; they ended up avoiding us. They told us not to spin, and that they
weren’t going to protest as they beat us, but the competition was tight and
they ultimately decided to take it to the room.
We were tossed from the race (some lessons learned). It was a tough day
that took us out of contention for the top 2, but we were ready to come back
strong, and control the controllables.
The final day of the regatta
was very light, leading to a postponement in which everyone rafted up and
talked; no swimming because the water was frigid! Eventually a light breeze
filled in just enough to start us. We threw in a bunch of unnecessary maneuvers
right before the gun and started without much speed, but we played the current
like a true Sound sailor and were able to get 2nd.
Reflections:
Standing 3rd on the podium
had me thinking “what if”, but it was still a great result and we learned a lot
more than we would’ve had it gone any other way. The regatta was an amazing
experience that I won’t forget. I really learned to enjoy the little things;
hitting over 20mph planing downwind all while laughing with my teammates was
certainly one of them. We made so many new friends from every corner of the US,
and I’m looking forward to meeting more passionate sailors in the future.
-Thomas
Racing Recap by Emmet:
Having the experience of
training in Sonars, Vipers, and VXOnes with my friends, sailing against other
teams at the Sears qualifier and working our way up to competing at the Sears
Cup was incredible. I learned so much about sailing different kinds of
keelboats just within the past two months leading up to this event. When we
arrived in Michigan and started racing, I discovered just how hard we could
push ourselves when we really wanted something. Lots of opportunities to talk
with new and interesting people were opened up to me and I am grateful for
this, as it gave me a better vision of what sailing is like in every part of
the country. -Emmet
Racing Recap by Wells:
It was an honor to represent
sailors from the northeast in the Sears Cup at the beautiful Macatawa Yacht
Club. We met many cool people from across the country who I hope to run into at
future sailing events, in college, and beyond. Sailing on Lake Michigan
challenged us to adapt to different conditions with big waves and thermal
shifts from the sand dunes that we don’t see sailing on Long Island Sound. We
sailed in varied conditions and learned many lessons that will make us better
in the future. I am thankful to all the people who helped get us to this point:
our parents, so many people from Noroton, especially Bryan Paine, Warren
Costikyan and Casey Hart for practice on the Viper, and many others from Cedar
Point and Newport who literally left work to help us train. This experience taught me how supportive the
sailing community is and the enjoyment of racing a keelboat with teammates and
friends. -Wells
By Lee Morrison
Our
Noroton team racers recently finished 3rd at the annual New York Yacht Club
Grandmasters Team Race championships, held over a perfect three day weekend at
Harbour Court in Newport, RI from August 26 -28. This regatta, which serves
essentially as a national championship, is restricted to skippers with a
minimum age of 60 and crew members of at least 50 years old.
For
younger sailors, NYYC runs the Hinman team race championships for skippers over
45, crews over 40, and an open (no age restrictions) championship for the
Morgan trophy.
With
bright and warm skies all three days, racing for the Grandmasters championship
took place between Rose and Goat Islands in Newport harbor. Friday’s racing
featured a 10-18 knot Southerly, which exceeded the wind limit for spinnakers
in a few races. On Saturday and Sunday winds were lighter from the
North and East at 6-12 knots, ideal conditions for close racing especially when
combined with strong currents making starting and mark roundings especially
tricky.
Nine
teams competed, hailing from as far away as Sweden, California, New Orleans,
and Texas. The remaining teams came from the typical East Coast sailing
powerhouses - Larchmont, Seawanhaka, Annapolis, and Storm Trysail. Team Noroton
consisted of 12 members who were charged with handling the three Sonars that we
were provided for the competition: Bill Crane, Chris Daley, Geoff Durno,
Janet Grapengator, Peggy Hersam, Alison Kinney, TK (helm), Scott Macleod
(helm), Lee Morrison (helm), Michael Rudnick, Howard Seymour, Kevin Sheehan.
In
the first round of this year’s competition each team sailed against every other
team twice - resulting in the Race Committee running a total of 144 races to
determine the initial rankings for the finals on Sunday. The top four
teams competed in a knockout finals round to determine the overall
winner. The first team to win 3 races wins the knockout. In the
first round, the top ranked New York YC sailed against the fourth ranked
Larchmont team while the second ranked Texas Cornthian team sailed against
team Noroton.
New
York beat Larchmont 3 races to 2, while Texas beat Noroton by the same 3 to 2
score. This pitted Texas against New York to determine the overall winner,
while Noroton sailed against Larchmont to determine the winner of the Petit
Finals.
In
the end, Texas beat New York 3-0 and Noroton topped Larchmont 3-1.
This
NYYC Grandmasters regatta has been run 11 times since the inaugural event in
2010, in which Noroton won the first 6 consecutive regattas, and placed 2nd in
2019.
Racing
in the Grandmasters validates the goal of many junior sailing programs: to
create lifelong sailors.
Fully
one-third of our team learned how to sail in the Noroton Junior program (Crane,
Daily, Hersam, Alison Kinney). And many others learned to sail in junior
programs at other Clubs. While still others came into sailing after college but
through their involvement have become regulars on the team racing circuit.
For
me personally, there were sailors at this event that I first competed against
50 years ago in the early days of the Laser Class. Ten of twelve members on
the winning Texas team competed in last year’s event, which Texas also won, and
have been sailing together for many years. As a team event, teamwork and
consistency contribute a lot to success.
For
those not familiar, team racing typically pits one team consisting of three
boats against another team of three boats which translates to six boats on a
deliberately tight starting line racing for short, but very tightly packed and
intense 12-15-minute race. The team with the lowest combined score wins.
Seems
fairly straightforward, however, sailing rules and tactics for team racing are
very different from fleet racing. Rather than each boat simply trying to go
fast and win, like in Fleet Racing, team racing is much more about preventing
your competitors from passing, thereby pushing them back and letting your team
move ahead.
Obviously,
getting a good start is essential. But that's actually when racing as a
team comes into play. Unless all three boats on the same team beat all
three boats on the opposing team at the start, the opportunity to “mix it up”
exists.
Blocking
the wind and using luffing or mark room rights, as allowed under team racing
rules, are just some of the ways a team that’s losing can slow down the race -
allowing teammates to catch up and potentially pass boats on the opposing
team.
The
opposing team, understanding the strategy, maneuvers their boats to prevent
from being blocked or could go on the offense and try to block the blocker from
the other team. It gets complicated quickly, especially when the wind is
up and racing close. There just isn’t the time to think through all the plays,
combinations and scenarios that could lead to a win. This is why training is so
important - the sailors react to the best of their instincts and hope that their
response to the wind, waves, competitors, and other teammates is better than the
opposition.
Because
team racing is so rules-dependent, and racing so tight and fast, most team race
regattas have on-water umpires. For many years NYYC member and Noroton Past
Commodore Peter Wilson served as the Chief Umpire for all of New York Yacht
Club’s “Big 3” team race regattas: The Morgan Cup, The Hinman Masters, and the
Grandmasters. This year NYYC and Noroton member Britt Hall was also an umpire
at all 3 events, and Nancy Pearson served as the Grandmasters Event Chairperson.
Philosophically
speaking, we choose to compete for fun and to challenge ourselves. To use
the challenge as a motivator to prepare and sail in this event, and to accept
that the end result may fall short of the goal to win. I am deeply grateful to
be able to compete where age isn’t a restriction, at a beautiful venue, in
comfortable boats, and in an event competently handled by a top race committee,
dedicated umpires, and with the gracious New York Yacht Club as hosts. For more information about team racing at Noroton, or to come sail in a weekly
practice at the club, reach out to Noroton Team Racing Committee Chair
Michael Rudnick.
Photos by Harry Milne
Initially the
ospreys nested on a private pier on Long Neck Point, in sight of the Yacht
Club. In 2010, the birds were evicted from that spot and forced to build a new
nest. They chose the pilings at the end of Noroton’s main pier, just above the
gangway that led to what was then the primary launch boat dock. Their nest was
built quickly, too soon for Captain Jeff Eng to shoo the birds away. Since the
ospreys were on the “Endangered Species” list, it was illegal to disturb their nesting
place. As a result the gangway was never lowered that summer. Launch
service was relocated to the finger piers for the season.
While they may have been unwelcome
guests at first, the ospreys endeared themselves to our harbor quickly. With
the nest now so close, club members and guests enjoyed watching the activity of
the birds and anticipated the arrival of new hatchlings. The Darien Nature
Center, in conjunction with the Yacht Club, installed a small camera nearby,
allowing for periodic live views of the osprey nest. After the eggs hatched, a
few small osprey chicks peered out over the rim of the nest to the delight of
many!
The bay between
Chimon and Copps Islands is further east than Ziegler’s Cove and Sheffield
Island by about five miles, but well worth the trip. It is one of the most
beautiful places near Noroton to have dinner and watch the sunset. The water is
very clean and great for swimming off your boat.
To reach Chimon Bay,
go east staying south of Greens Ledge and Bell 28 off Great Reef and past
Copps’ Island. Heading to Bell 26 off Westport is a safe path. Shortly you will
pass a usually visible rock (also on the chart) on the east end of a reef
extending from Copps Island. Turn around that rock about 15 yards off and head
WNW into a big bay. Keep the oyster stakes on your starboard side and proceed
slowly. There is a small reef in the middle of this passage with only three
feet of water at the lowest tide, so if you draw more than that, wait at least
for mid-tide.
Keep heading WNW into
the Chimon Bay where there is 10 to 15 feet of water with good mud bottom for
anchoring. Enjoy !!!
The Kirby Cup, formally
known as the Bruce Kirby Trophy, is awarded annually to the winners of a team
race championship run by the Noroton Yacht Club. Each Fall Noroton hosts
top sailors showcasing Noroton’s facilities and sailboat racing heritage.
However, the Kirby Cup
did not start out at the Noroton Club. The trophy (on display in the
cabinet adjacent to the upstairs entrance) was initially commissioned by the
Sonar Class Association in 2000 to - quoted from the Deed of Gift - “...stimulate
and foster Corinthian team racing competition between Sonar Fleets, and to
recognize Bruce Kirby for the creation of the Sonar, his contributions to the
Sonar Class, and the sport of Yacht Racing”. Each year the winning club’s
name is engraved on the trophy, capturing the event’s history.
At first, the Kirby Cup
was run by the Sonar Class Association as a “traveling event”. Similar to
America’s Cup competition, the winner of the event gets the privilege of
hosting the next event. However, as the level of competition in small
keelboat team racing quickly grew, the infrastructure needed to run a first-class
event grew as well. Things like RIBs for on-the-water umpiring, bumpers to
protect the boats from accidental damage, and matched sails ensuring all the
boats go the same speed are needed to run a top-flight team
race.
This level of
infrastructure was a hardship for some clubs and participation in the Kirby Cup
dwindled. In 2009 the leadership of the Noroton Yacht Club made a major
commitment to the sport of team racing by purchasing 13 sets of bow and stern
bumpers and 13 identical mainsails and jibs, allowing Noroton to join an elite
group of sailing clubs able to run top team race events. Soon after we
petitioned the Sonar Class Association to make Noroton the Kirby Cup’s home. Fortunately, it was an easy decision. Beyond Noroton’s commitment
to team racing and its large fleet of Sonars, the trophy’s namesake Bruce
Kirby was a long time Noroton member and active participant in our
Fleet.
In 2010 the Kirby Cup
became Noroton’s Team Race Championship, and we’ve run championships annually
ever since (skipping 2020 due to Covid). Up until 2019 Bruce would come
out in the boat he designed to watch the close competition, competing for a
trophy dedicated in his honor. A fitting distinction for someone who has
contributed so much to our sport.
One
thing that is key to team racing is a solid team of umpires who patrol the
races and perform instant justice. Peter Wilson is a driving force for team racing
throughout the United States and has contributed significantly to Team Racing
at Noroton. He
has continued to generously give his time through regatta organization and as a
tireless umpire. Because of his emphasis on the Corinthian spirit of the game,
Noroton YC developed a new trophy in 2016 called the “Peter Wilson Fair Play
Award”, named after his umpire rib. It is awarded to a sailor for excellent
sportsmanship.
By Peter Wilson, Certified team race umpire and Captain of the Noroton Grand Master team from
2010-2015
When the club first
started, there was adult team racing in Star boats, primarily against Stamford
Yacht Club. The races were started off the Noroton pier and went out to
Government marks, such as the Green Flasher, N 28, and Smith’s Reef Buoy. There
were stories about Noroton sailors working together to put a Stamford boat on a
course that would align her keel with rocks near the Green Flasher that, at a
certain tide, were a perfect wedge to hold the keel and thus stop the boat.
While this team
racing between Stamford and Noroton continued for a while, the advent and rapid
popularity of the Lightning put team racing on the back burner. Fleet racing
quickly became the thing to do.
Slowly, adult team
racing events started to return in the 1990s. Noroton eagerly joined in because
many of the clubs hosting team racing events were holding their regattas in
Sonars. At that time, Noroton clearly had some of the best Sonar skippers on
the east coast. We assumed that we could leverage that fleet racing expertise
into success at team racing. We assumed incorrectly!
Noroton hosted
several team race events in the early 1990s including several against New York
Yacht Club. Despite fielding a strong team, Noroton was no match for New York
on July 18th
1992. The New York
Yacht Club team competed in four such series each year, while Noroton was fleet
racing. Our team racing ability simply wasn’t a match for that level of
experience.
The painful truth
was, Noroton was terrible at team racing. The other clubs loved it when Noroton
entered a team racing competition because, to be honest, despite having the
best
Sonar sailors, we
defaulted to trying to win using fleet race tactics and that just didn’t cut
it. On the first day of a two-day event, Noroton would still be fleet racing.
Noroton skippers were heard saying to a fellow team member “I beat you!” as
they crossed the line even though the other team won the team race. The
well-worn patterns of competition were so ingrained that they seemed to miss
the fact that they were now on the same team.
For those who may
not understand the difference, fleet racing is like a running race where each
runner is competing for a stronger finish. In team racing, on the other hand, consists
of six boats broken into two teams. The winning team is the team that has the
cumulatively higher finishes. Teamwork becomes critical. In fleet racing,
getting a great start, sailing fast, staying in clear air, picking the best
side of the course, or playing the shifts well is the key to winning. Fleet
racers are always looking up the course to see where and how to pass boats and
move up. The game is always in front of you. In team racing, however, the game
is always behind you as the overall goal is to keep the majority of the other
team behind you and your teammates. The trick becomes to use the rules to hold
opponents back to let your teammates advance.
With this critical
shift in tactics, teamwork becomes paramount. For example, if another boat on
your team did not have a good start, you need to help her out. This might mean
sitting on an opposing boat’s wind to slow that opponent down and pave the way
for your teammate to catch up. It takes a complete understanding of the rules
and how to use them to your advantage as well as a willingness to sacrifice
your own individual finishing place for the good of the broader team.
Our club isn’t old, it isn’t big, it isn’t very fancy, but it’s got something really going for it. It appeals mostly to those who love boats. Our facilities are good for boating, not so hot for anything else, and as a result we attract members who feel there is nothing quite so worthwhile as a boat…Many of us dream at times how nice it would be to have a swimming pool, more tennis courts, more comfortable and lavish buildings. If we did, we might lose much of what we now have, and what we now have seems worth hanging on to. ~ Commodore Bob Bavier, 1968 message to the membership
It all started in 1907 - Six dories raced for
the first time in Noroton Harbor.
See Full Chronology here
J24 Class Minus One
By Peter Wilson
The J24 Class
Association was formed in 1978 and the boat was instantly popular, with 500
boats spread in new fleets across the country in its first year. The J24
was introduced to Noroton in 1981. Noroton had been chosen to host the Sears
Cup in 1982 and the J24 had been selected as the boat for all of the US Junior
Sailing Championships (Sears, Bemis, and Smythe) that would be conducted that
year. Once Noroton sailors got to know the J24, the class grew quickly and
became a major fleet at Noroton for decades. It was very popular with racing
couples, particularly those who were not athletic enough to sail a Tempest, and,
for the hardy cruisers, you could even go to Long Island overnight. As a
mainstay at Noroton’s Sunday races, the J24 fleet often boasted 15 boats on the
starting line each Sunday. One Sunday in 1982 we lost J24 #2802 in
a big easterly: 15 to
20 knots with four-to-six-foot seas. Rounding the weather mark near Greens
Ledge Lighthouse that day, each boat set her spinnaker for the 1.5-mile leeward
leg. After a hard-won windward leg, the beat to the leeward mark was a complete
sleigh ride; surfing down the huge swells with most of the crew on the stern
rail to keep the bow from going under. You couldn’t sail directly downwind
because the rolling from side to side was treacherous, so boats went off to
either side of the run; surfing one wave and then running into the one in front
of it.
About halfway down
the leg when boats had to gybe for the leeward mark, the wind gusts suddenly
increased to about 25 knots. There were several wipeouts trying to gybe, and
some boats dropped their spinnakers completely to gybe safely. A few brave
crews attempted to gybe with the spinnaker up and Bill Thomson’s was one. In
the middle of the gybe, the chute rolled them to windward and right into a
capsize. The boat “turned turtle” (completely upside down) in the heavy seas.
Water poured into the open cockpit lockers causing the boat to sink in a matter
of minutes. Fortunately, all the crew was rescued off the boat by a mark-boat
before it went down.
The next day, Bill
and several others went out to the spot where she sank and dragged the bottom
with grappling hooks and Danforth anchors, but they came up empty. They tried
again for several days with no luck. We all surmised that ultimately, the boat
might wash up on Smith’s Reef to the west of where she went down, but in all
this time, there has been no sign of her. Those who remember this event wonder
if, when setting a weather or leeward mark for Sunday sailing, they might one
day find that lost boat.
By Bill Crane
In September of this year a small group of Noroton sailors
competed in the seventh edition of Rolex NYYC Invitational Cup. The cup is an
international event comprised of the best amateurs from the most highly
regarded yacht clubs. The event occurs every two years and is held at NYYC’s
Newport, Rhode Island annex, Harbour Court. The 2021 edition is the second one
to utilize NYYC’s own fleet of identical IC37 sport boats which were developed
primarily for this event.
Under normal circumstances Noroton would have been required
to qualify for the event through NYYC’s Resolute Cup. Last year, however, due to
the global pandemic, the 2020 Resolute Cup was suspended and NYYC made an
exception regarding qualification. The US teams, (with the excepting NYYC’s own
team), were chosen by resume. This was a perfect example of a disastrous global
situation providing an opportunity for those who are willing to pursue it.
In 2020 the Hinman Masters team racing championship was also
suspended by the pandemic. Noroton’s Masters team did, however, continue to
practice among itself on a few Saturday mornings. During one of these Saturday
practice sessions, (clearly there was no wind…), we discussed the opportunity
to gain acceptance to the Invitational Cup. A decision regarding the
opportunity was reached by a few of us, and we agreed to pursue an entry under
Noroton’s burgee (although we were under no illusion that a small club like
Noroton would ever have a chance).
In late summer or early autumn 2020 we were turned down.
NYYC wanted the big clubs. There was no surprise or emotional let-down.
Realistically, we knew we were bunch of smalltown amateurs trying to make it to
the big show. Then near the end of the year there was a call from NYYC: if the
opportunity for participation were to arise, would we still be interested?
Nothing more, but a call to see if our interest remained. We of course said
yes. Then nothing…ghosted.
At home, during dinner sometime around the second week of
June, Bill Crane received a call from Beth Duggan of the NYYC. She inquired if
we were serious about competing for the cup. We were. Would we accept the
invitation if NYYC provided one to Noroton’s Commodore? Yes, we would. Bill
subsequently, and immediately, called Karl Ziegler. The call was met with incredulity.
“What?” “Are you joking?” Karl had never in a million years thought we would be
asked. Long story short, after a few deep breaths, we were in!
What now? Most of the teams had been training and sailing
together for years. They had experience with the IC37. They had been planning,
practicing in the IC37 and they knew what they were doing. We were deer in the
headlights. Time to get moving. Define what is possible, what is practical, who
is available and about a million other small variables.
After defining what we needed as crew, Bill took on the task
of calling, begging, and pleading with people to take two weeks of their time
to compete in an event that was not on anyone’s radar. Most of our members had
not even heard of the Invitational Cup. It is not easy for most people to find
the time for a weekend event, much less one of this extent. We were planning on
five days of practice followed by a competition without a break, (a two-week
commitment to Newport RI on short notice). This was compounded by NYYC’s rules
that dictated the make up of the crew. We all had to be in category one,
(meaning strictly amateur) men and women, (seven men and one woman or two women
and eight or more crew members), with a combined maximum crew weight of
1,512.37 Lbs. We knew we needed youth, we needed strength, we needed speed, we
needed smarts…we needed a lot. Many of our members at first agreed, then the
scope of the undertaking became apparent, and they were forced to or chose to bow
out. Ultimately, we settled on a crew that was not that young, was not that
strong, but they were pretty smart and they definitely knew how to work hard
as a unit. The crew was comprised of: Karl Ziegler (captain and helm), Scott
Macleod (tactician), Bill Crane (mainsail and jib trim), Chris Daley (spinnaker
and jib trim), Howard Seymour (mast and offside trim), Tucker Hersam (bow),
Janet Grapengeter (squirrel or floater) and our one non Noroton member Debbie
Probst of the Buffalo Canoe Club (pit). We were a crew of eight. In hindsight
none or even ten would have been better, but you don’t know what you don’t
know.
Karl focused his efforts on who could help us prepare. He
found (maybe coerced) some great coaches with IC37 experience who would help
expedite the learning process. Noroton's Rob Crane, Brooks Daley, and Megan
Grapengeter-Rudnick, all with IC37 experience, each gave us a day of their time.
They helped with crew positioning, boat handling and setting our expectations.
Stan Schreyer of North Sails (ex BU sailing team coach) worked with us on
boat setup, boat speed nuances and where best to position the boat in a race to
take advantage of its unique sailing characteristics (Stan concluded we would
be ready just about when the event ended…). Tony Rey (3x’s America’s Cup
Sailor and super coach) provided us with input regarding our sail trim and
sail handling while racing. We had the best instructor/coaches, and they gave
us their best. What neither they nor Karl could provide was time in the boat.
The team was forced to compress months of sailing into days.
Prior to heading to Newport, every one of our team members
spent time reviewing the IC37 Class and North Sails’ websites, poring over
videos and charts in efforts to understand what was expected of them, how-tos,
and best practices. This is all very relevant to sailing the boat, but we were
working in a vacuum without real life experiences on the water. We worked out
intricate “play books” to help each teammate understand their role and their
responsibility. We all did as much as we could to prepare while waiting for the
day we would actually get on board an IC37.
Our shore team, led by Tory Crane, focused on housing. The
team needed to be near the venue and we wanted to all be together so that we
could maximize our time as a unit. Tory and Karl found us the perfect base via
social media, and we now had our own Noroton Club House annex. The next hurdle
was figuring out how to feed the group. Again, Tory and Karl came through in
remarkable fashion.
Finally, it was time to compete. We had a plan, but as Mike
Tyson would say, “everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth….”.
Right from the get-go we knew we were neither the best nor the worst. We also
knew we would improve. The question remained, how long would it take? Well, it
definitely takes longer than one championship event. That being said, we
improved in every race and often found ourselves in the top five rounding the
weather mark. What held us back? Mistakes! We proved to ourselves that we have
the abilities to compete with the best, but to win against the best takes time
and commitment. Only with time can we mitigate the stupid mistakes that can
sink a race. We had no time, but we were committed (or we should have been….).
We did not embarrass ourselves. We were not outclassed. We know what it takes,
and if we ever have the chance to compete in this event again, look out!
One last impression of the event: standing around, watching
the sailing replay on the big screen following a day’s racing we often
overheard other teams asking, “who are those guys?” when we appeared in the
thick of it trading tacks with the very best of the best. We, of course, are
the smallest club to take on the big guys in the big show.
Bill Crane grew up at Noroton. His grandfather was one of the original 30
members who contributed $1000 to form the Noroton Yacht Club.
By Art Collins and Peter Wilson
Both men were on the Planning Committee to rebuild the Clubhouse and Art was a member of the building committee.Hurricane Irene: August 30-31, 2011
Hurricane Sandy: October 29-30, 2012
Hurricane
Irene was well understood as a major storm many days before hitting the
Connecticut coastline. Storm preparations at the Club were deployed
immediately following warnings from the Town of Darien officials and the
National Hurricane Center days before the storm hit. Houses in Noroton
Bay were evacuated, the Clubhouse was shuttered as much as possible and
vehicles were taken to higher ground. Irene in particular was predicted
to be a major wind and rain event so everyone along the coast and in
town took the warnings seriously.
The storm made landfall early on Sunday, August 28th.
By 11:00am winds were about 25-30 knots from the northeast. The
direction of the wind was blowing the water out of Long Island Sound.
However, after the hurricane’s eye passed west of the Club around
midnight the wind shifted abruptly to the south. As the eye of the
storm moved to the north on the morning of the 29th, the wind built
substantially to 40-50 knots from the south. Coincident with a rising
tide and storm surge, this caused large breaking waves to bear down on
the Clubhouse and lift the pier off its foundation pillars. Our
historic pier could not withstand the path
of monstrous breaking waves and storm-force wind. By low tide later
that afternoon with the storm far to the north and the winds
diminishing, we saw what the wrath of the storm had left; the pier and
abutments and all that held it together for more than 80 plus years were
washed up on the dry sailing area, across the beach, and even up onto
Baywater Drive. Carnage in the harbor was limited to a few boats
breaking their moorings and landing on Smart Beach. Member Flip
Huffard’s RIB landed on Dave Campbell’s lawn after he ran out of gas
while inspecting damage during the storm. The roof of the Pratt Island
gazebo was blown off and landed on the terrace at the Club. In short,
Irene left an extensive mess in her wake.
The
Clubhouse was largely spared, sustaining minor damage to the retaining
walls, roof shingles, and some of the siding. Short of the loss of the
pier, however, things largely returned to normal within a few days of
Irene’s departure. Thanks to Ed Sweeney, Randy Tankoos, and other
helpers, the pier was rebuilt over the winter months.
Hurricane Sandy, on the other hand, was a markedly different storm event
from any that the Club had experienced since 1928. The warnings leading
up to Sandy’s arrival were frequent and extreme. Predictions called for
a severity of wind, expected wave action, and tidal surge unlike
anything seen
in our area (except perhaps Hurricane Carol in 1954). Storm surge
predictions called for tidal levels up to 12 feet higher than normal.
The storm itself combined with another low-pressure cell that came from
the west, making Sandy exceptionally fierce and twice as big in diameter
as hurricane Katrina. All in all, it was predicted to be much stronger
than any storm the Connecticut coastline had seen.
In
the face of such an unprecedented event, storm preparation commenced
with volunteers working to transfer equipment to higher ground and to
secure the Club’s facilities as best they could. Unfortunately, there
was no preparing for such a long-lasting and fierce combination of wind
and waves on top of the tidal flooding.
The storm strengthened as it traveled up the eastern seaboard over unseasonably warm ocean water before heading west over the New Jersey shoreline. Initially Sandy brought high intensity northerly winds to Noroton that racked and pushed the pier head platform 6ft south. After the hurricane’s landfall and westward traverse, howling southerly winds and associated waves as well as a surging tide rose to wreak havoc on the first floor of the Clubhouse. The first floor flooded and three-to-four-foot waves broke through the sliding doors. Anything that wasn’t tied down inside was awash in the interior. It was the first time anyone remembered the upper living room flooding. Meanwhile, the tide was still rising during the evening hours as waves continued to flow over the dry sail area and parking lot where boats were stored for the winter. The Club’s white launch ended up on Commodore MacDonald’s lawn. Captain Jeff, who lived in the Clubhouse at the time, said when the storm hit that night the whole building moved.
Boats
were piled up together in the northern parking lot after waves floated
boats from their poppits. The flooding was so severe in the Bay that
many of the houses became unlivable, some abandoned for many months
after. In the aftermath of Sandy, the Bay was completely transformed
with many houses lifted up onto higher foundations or completely
rebuilt.
Sandy’s impact affected the whole east coast. When it made landfall, the storm stretched from New Hampshire to southern Virginia: almost 600 miles. Its storm surge plugged the Long Island Sound tidal flow in New York harbor and the northeastern winds held the water from ebbing east out of the Race. The eye passed over Brigantine, New Jersey early October 29th creating major flooding up the Hudson River and Long Island as well as the Connecticut and Westchester coastlines. The high tide recorded in Noroton Harbor was 10.25ft, fully six feet higher than normal. The Club had never felt the brunt of a storm like this one. With the prolonged duration of two high tide cycles, flooding damage was particularly extensive. It was very fortunate that the height of the storm surge was four hours after high tide or the Clubhouse might have been totally destroyed. The tides and storm surges for both Irene and Sandy are shown below.
Irene
Sandy
These two storms and their resulting damage made it very clear that Noroton needed a Clubhouse that could withstand serious storm events. Before long, the Flag officers and Board were on-board to support an effort to build a new Clubhouse and by the 2018 season, the new Clubhouse was complete.
Memories of the Dragon
Wagon
By Carolyn McCurdy Wilson, member since 1955, daughter of Commodore Richard McCurdy 1961-1962
Type: Bermudian Yawl
Mah Jong
Specifications:
LOA: 52’2 / 15.91m
LWL: 37’0 / 11.27m
Beam: 11’8 / 3.59m
Draft: 7’6” / 2.28m
Design Number: 1261
Designer: Sparkman & Stephens
Year Built: 1957
Built By: Cheoy Lee Shipyard, Hong Kong
Hull Material: Wood
Gross Displacement: 38,100 lbs
Ballast: Outside 14,500 lbs – Inside 500 lbs
Sail Area: 1,253 sq ft
Historical:
Designed by Sparkman & Stevens and built at the Cheoy Lee Shipyard in Hong
Kong. Launched in 1957, her shakedown cruise was a circumnavigation. Her hull
and deck are teak, and the keel, stem and sternpost are Yacal wood. Interior is
impeccably finished in Teak and Mahogany.
In the 1950s and 60s our family sailed Lightnings at Noroton Yacht
Club, but my father, Richard Clark McCurdy, had always wanted a
cruising boat. In the early 60s he decided to take the family on our
first cruise. He chartered a boat out of Seawanhaka Yacht Club and
we set off to watch the America’s Cup trials in Newport, R.I. We
spent one soggy week in a boat that leaked, making for three very
unhappy teenagers. Finally, we made it back to Seawanhaka and
into our little motorboat and headed home. On the way out of the
harbor, my father saw Mah Jong on a mooring. He immediately fell
in love. This was not good news for the teens – at least we didn’t
think so at the time.
My father contacted the owners to find out more about the boat. It
turned out that three young men (Hovey Freeman, Mike Merle-Smith,
and Gilbert Grosvenor) wanted to build a boat in Hong Kong and sail
it around the world. They got the drawings of a boat named Baccarat
from Sparkman and Stevens, contracted with Choy Lee, and set off
on their adventure. Some of the team went over to supervise the
building while others stayed behind to supply fittings from here so
there would be no problem with repairs in the future.
If you can find the December 1958 National Geographic Magazine,
you will find an article about the part of this trip cruising the Aegean
Isles by Gil Grosvenor, later to become the head of National
Geographic.
After a year’s cruise, the group of friends entered the Newport to
Bermuda Race and then put the boat up for sale. My father was one
of several people interested in the boat. The boat, however, was not
simply for sale to the highest bidder. Those interested had to be
interviewed to make sure they would use and take care of the boat.
We were chosen and that began a long and wonderful time for our
family with Mah Jong.
As the first Choy Lee boat built for export, there was a movie made
about the building of Mah Jong. The boat was 52 feet long and made
of teak. Because of her size, the sails had to be cut at night using the
streets of the city as this was the only place large enough to lay out
the materials. The tools used to build her included a bow and arrow
drill. Many items were hand carved and the resulting details were
amazing. I remember being impressed that the heating stove in the
main cabin had a chimney with an s-curve in it, and that the builders
had found one piece of wood with that exact shape in order to avoid
seams.
There were also beautifully carved pieces throughout the
boat and a Quan Yen sitting on a shelf in the main cabin to oversee
safe passage. When the boat was ready to be launched, the yard
brought a going away present: one piece of wood carved with
dragons entwined that fit inside the whole front of the dog house,
including around the window.
There were also beautifully carved pieces throughout the boat and a Quan
Yen sitting on a shelf in the main cabin to oversee safe passage. When
the boat was ready to be launched, the yard brought a going away
present: one piece of wood carved with dragons entwined that fit inside
the whole front of the dog house, including around the window.
My father took Mah Jong on many Newport to Bermuda Races,
watched countless America's Cup trials, and cruised with the New
York Yacht Club, the Cruising Club of America, and the aptly-named
Cruising Boozing and Snoozing group. My father would even single
hand her in the Corinthians Race. She was moored at the mouth of
the Noroton Yacht Club harbor on a mooring originally laid for the 72
foot yawl Cotton Blossom. Storms were always a worry, so my father
put a wrecking ball part way up the chain to help stabilize Mah Jong
while moored. One summer, she was broken into, and an ax was
used to wrest the navigation instruments and the Quan Yen from
their spots. After that, the boat was then moved from the mouth of
the harbor for safety.
At that time, life on Long Island Sound was much quieter than it is
now. We would even go out and shoot skeet off Green’s Ledge
Lighthouse while dolphins played in the bow wave. 1984 was our last
summer on Mah Jong. At the end of the summer, she was donated
to Mystic Seaport. For a short while, I would get reports of a “Mah
Jong sighting,” and once while in Mystic I saw her hauled out. She
was still beautiful, and her topsides were still bright.
The other day, I got a call from Pat Crane saying her daughter Linda
had come across Mah Jong in Martha’s Vineyard. She has a new
owner who has contracted Gannon & Benjamin Marine Railway Inc.
in Vineyard Haven to restore her. It turns out that Ross Gannon
grew up at Noroton. As he said in an email: “Interestingly, I worked as
a launch driver/maintenance guy in my teen years at Noroton Yacht Club,
where Mah Jong was truly the flagship of that harbor. You won’t
recognize her now — she’s totally taken apart — but on the mend.”
Our family was lucky enough to have a long love affair with this boat. I
can only hope the new owner can enjoy her as we once did. Many of you
know of my affection for dragons, and now know where this comes from. I
hope you enjoy my sharing of our time with the “Dragon Wagon." ~ Carolyn McCurdy Wilson
Derivation of the Noroton Yacht Club Burgee
Paul Smart was the first Commodore of Noroton Yacht Club, holding the
office from 1928 until 1941. Thirty years later in 1971, he described the
origin of the club’s burgee design.
At some point after the club had begun more or less regular
racing, it was thought to be time members had a burgee of their own.
Accordingly, they were invited to submit designs, one of which would be
selected by vote. Paul submitted two designs himself. One was not favored and
he could not remember it. The other was selected during the voting.
Paul obtained a law degree at Harvard in 1917. Later, he studied at New College. New College was established at Oxford
University by the great Bishop of Winchester, William of Wykeham (pronounced
“wick-um’), who also founded Winchester College for boys. He gave both these
institutions their coat-of-arms and motto, “Manners Makyth Man,” which both
schools still use.
It occurred to Paul, doodling in the margin of the New York
Times on the commuter train into New York one morning, that with a little
judicious tinkering, the New College coat -of-arms might yield an excellent
burgee. The shield itself displayed two chevrons and three roses. Paul turned
the shield on its side, knocked out the roses, straightened the edges, and
produced Noroton’s burgee.
Larchmont
Race week was exactly that: a weeklong open event for adults and juniors held
at Larchmont Yacht Club each summer. Skilled and novice sailors alike would
compete in all manner of classes, from Blue Jays to 12 meters. Race week took
place at the beginning of the summer, often with little wind. Many times a
fierce squall ripped through the fleets, flipping smaller boats. The great
miracle was that in all those years nobody was lost or seriously hurt; even
more impressive considering that up until the 1970s, nobody was wearing
lifejackets.
The
culmination of the week for the juniors was the “stomp” at Larchmont’s
Pandemonium with Lester Lanin and his band. It was at this event that juniors
from all over the sound became lifelong friends in addition to competitive
rivals.
Lightnings
were towed to Larchmont Race Week in the late 1950s
As
exciting as the big dance was, the ultimate highlight for Noroton juniors was
the tow down and back. The day before the first race, crews arrived at Noroton
loaded with lunches, transistor radios and a ton of excitement. Crews had to
make sure their boats were not only tied correctly but rode easily in the line.
Everybody in the boat had to watch the towline as it could pin you to the
coaming and even flip you overboard if you weren’t careful.
To
while away the six- or seven-hour journey crews invented games. One favorite
was to throw food from boat to boat. Another was to create effigies to no one
in particular using foul weather gear joisted up the mast. Invariably, one or
more crews would lose their halyards and Jimmy Crane would have to shimmy up to
retrieve
them. To this day, most juniors of a certain age can remember vividly these
tows – whether in good weather or bad.
The
“long tow” gradually disappeared, a victim of dry sailing and the
trailer. Life
moved on, but for those who were lucky enough to be there – it was
something
else. In 2021 Larchmont held its 123rd
regatta. Adults raced on two weekends in July and juniors raced during
the week. A remarkable feat for Larchmont. Hats off to them for
providing a life changing experience.
The History of Nun 28
The earliest racing at Noroton Yacht Club had start and finish lines at the end of the pier. There was no race committee boat at the time and very few boats on moorings in the harbor. With plenty of visibility, spectators could gather at the end of the pier to watch the races.
Multi-leg
courses were built around harbor-edge nuns and cans: the Green Flasher at the
south end of the harbor, Nun 28, Smith’s Reef red bell buoy 30, and Nun 26 off
Green’s Ledge. Smaller boats like ‘Wee Scots’ sailed on shorter courses while
Stars went to the more distant government marks.
Our current lateral system of buoyage was created by an Act
passed by Congress on September 28th of
1850:
“And be it further enacted that hereafter all buoys along the
coast or in bays, harbors, sounds or channels, shall be colored and numbered so
that passing up the coast or sound, or entering the bay, harbor or channel, red
buoys with even numbers shall be passed on the starboard hand. Black buoys with
uneven numbers on the port hand, and buoys with black and red (horizontal)
stripes on either hand. Buoys in channel ways to be colored with alternate
black and white perpendicular stripes.”
Nun
28 was placed approximately one half mile south of Long Neck Point just outside
the five fathom (30 feet) depth contour sometime in the late 1800s. This
location was on a straight line running from Smith’s Reef red bell buoy #30 to
the west and red Nun 26 south off Green’s Ledge Lighthouse to the east. These
three buoys marked the northern edge for safe transit by deep draft vessels
traversing either eastward or westward. Over
the years, while interest in racing grew, the harbor began to fill up with
boats on moorings making it difficult to simply run races off the pier. As a
result the Club acquired a race committee boat named Adelaide. Adding a race
committee boat to the mix allowed us to move the starting line into more open
water south of the harbor at Nun 28. This created much longer courses using
a combination of temporary marks and government bell buoys like Cable and
Anchor, Eaton’s Neck, Lloyd’s Neck, and the “Cows” off Stamford.
By
1940, Noroton Yacht Club had a fleet of 25 Stars and was hosting the Arms
Series Noroton Race Week with almost 50 boats in this popular class, all
starting and finishing at Nun 28.
From that time until its removal by the Coast Guard in 1984 Nun 28 was the starting mark for all NYC weekend racing and regattas. Since then our race committee boat anchors in that general area unless winds are from the north, in which case the starting line is a half mile or so further to the south.
It
was, therefore, a bit of a shock when heading east close to the Connecticut
shore one summer we saw a red bell buoy marker #28!
Clearly,
the plan behind removing Nun
28
off Long Neck Point and Nun 26 just south of Green’s
Ledge
was to only identify the major reefs on the
Connecticut
coast (Great Reef off of Sheffield Island and
Smith’s
Reef southwest of Noroton harbor) with lighted
bell
buoys and asking mariners to rely on available charts
which
by then had much more water depth detail.
By Peter Wilson
Perhaps applicable to the waters off Noroton Yacht Club.
Doing well in big fleet regattas is
always a function of many factors – competitive boat speed, good starts, clean
sailing, good boat handling, smart large fleet tactics, and overall race course
strategy. What follows is a layman’s perspective on the behavior of
wind...because a better understanding of wind behavior is a foundation for
sound race course strategy. Having sailed off Noroton for some 45 plus years (a
frightening thought), I’ve developed some, but by no means
complete, understanding of why the wind seems to behave the way it does. This article will
not try to declare a set of anecdotal Noroton maxims like, “when the sea
breeze fills in it is usually stronger the further south you are.” Instead I
will try and give you the principles for a discipline that can work at Noroton,
and wherever you may sail.
My premise is fairly straightforward:
Know the gradient wind direction and velocity, and if it will
change throughout the day.
Figure
the likely effect of land masses and thermals on gradient wind.
You can predict the probable behavior of the surface wind...the
wind we race in.
Link to full Article: The Behavior of Wind
Where has the fabulous sea breeze gone?
By Peter Wilson,
member since 1954, and Noroton’s unofficial weatherman
Looking back to the days of
my family racing our Lightning on Saturdays and Sundays in the late 1950’s, I
recall many mornings with a ‘smokey’ (hazy) sou’wester of 6-8 knots that slowly
built to 12-15 knots by early afternoon. Some days, when there was a strong sea
breeze off the south shore of Long Island, the wind velocity built to a solid
15-20 knots. Once in a while this sou’wester was so strong that races started
off the green flasher, went to Smith’s Reef, then Nun 28, and back to finish by
the Green Flasher; sometimes twice around because we usually only sailed one
long race each day.
On days when the breeze was
light out of the east or southeast by our 1:00pm starting time, the sea breeze
would often ‘break through’ the hot air over Long Island around 2 or 2:30pm. We
could see it coming on the water as it progressed rapidly across from the Long
Island north shore onto our racecourse.
Unfortunately, race
conditions like that are few and far in between these days. The continuing
expansion of housing developments and roads on Long Island have gradually
created a ‘heat block’ of hot thermal air rising off the land as illustrated by
the wind diagram below.
You can see the
effect shown in white; less than five knots forecast. This results when the
flow of the south shore sea breeze is diverted upward over this ‘heat block.’
Most days, the air doesn’t make it down to the Western Long Island Sound waters
where the width of the Sound is eight miles or less. Even more frustratingly,
only five miles or so inland the treetops can be seen happily waving in the
10-15 knot south-southwest sea breeze shown in darker blue on the south shore
of Long Island. And, further east on Long Island Sound where it is 12 plus
miles wide and there are fewer houses and roads on Long Island, some of this
sea breeze is on the water in the afternoons; and beyond the east end of Long
Island there is a solid 10-15 knots in Block Island and Rhode Island Sounds.
Over these years the impact
on our sailing conditions has become clear: the average winds are lighter
except when driven by a passing low-pressure area or cold front. The prevailing
summer winds are light (4-7 knots) east/southeast rather than south/southwest,
and whatever sea breeze makes it to our waters is much lighter from the southeast
or much later in the day from the south.
"She's really honkin’" is
an expression which describes a boat that is going much faster than her
opponents. This familiar sailing expression led to the creation of The Honker
trophy in 1966. Since then, The Honker has been awarded annually to a sailor in
the Jr. Program who is notably fast.
The physical trophy consists of a
wonderful old brass horn mounted on a floorboard from one of the fastest
Lightnings around: Zig Zagger. The trophy’s unique design allows its recipient
to audibly honk the horn as they return to their seat upon receiving this
particularly coveted Junior sailing award.
On the back of the
trophy, you will see written:
"This is a floorboard from Zig Zagger
Lightning #5841 owned by William Cox of Noroton. Cox and Zig Zagger won many
championships including the North American Champs twice, in 1956 and 1957. One
of five boats made by Skip Etchells in Greenwich, CT in the mid 1960’s, these Lightnings
turned out to be exceptionally fast boats. Bill Cox worked with Skip to test variations in the hull shape that fell
within the class rule specifications.
They towed these early hulls on a pivot bar to see which had less
resistance and chose a design with a slightly flatter run from midships to the
transom. These boats dominated the class
for many years."
The Honker, beautifully restored, now has a bulb back on the horn so it
can once again proclaim the speed of each new recipient.
1966 Steve Nightingale
1967 Manton Scott
1968 Manton Scott
1969 Manton Scott
1970 David Campbell
1971 Rob Campbell
1972 Sally Campbell
1973 Steve Franklin
1974 Steve Franklin
1975 Tucker Edmundson
1976 John Kostanecki
1977 John Kostanecki
1978 Mimi Hall
1979 Charlie Henkel
1980 Arthur Merdinolu
1981 Laird Henkel
1982 Brian Doyle
1983 Charlie Henkel & Laird Henkel
1984 Geoff McDonald
1985 Brian Doyle
1986 Pierce Owens
1987 Ellen Mastoras
1988 Chelsie Wheeler
1989 Chelsie Wheeler
1990 David Wells
1991 Geoff Lazio
1992 Chazzie Stone
1993 Tim Sweeney
1994 Cathy Hoyt & Liz Story
1995 Cazzie Stone & James Antoszewski
1996 Paul Steinborn & Tim Sweeney
1997 Rob Crane
1998 Paul Steinborn & David
Darst
1999 Rob Crane
2000 Will Vernon
2001 Matt Campbell
2002 Jon Garrity
2003 Stetson Hallowell
2004 Ani Kavookijan
2005 Ani Kavookjian
2006 Willem Sandberg
2007 Peter Sullivan
2008 Tommy Ross
2009 Lonneke Eenkema van Dijk
2010 Julia Monro
2011 James Haranzo & Brooks Daley
2012 Bram Brakeman
2013 Tucker Hersam
2014 Sam Tobin
2015 Sam Tobin
2016 Carly Costikyan
2017 Ryan Costikyan
2018 Ryan Costikyan
2019 Matt Wiig
2020 Thomas O’Grady
By Meg Campbell
Noroton launch driver John Dolan in the early 1940s.
John is the father of Treasurer Meg Dolan Campbell, and yes that is the launch driver’s uniform of the day. As you can see the launches had no motors – the “drivers” rowed members to their boats.
By Bob Wells – Noroton Yacht Club
Bob wearing the hat he wore as a
younger launch boy.
For those of you who do not know Bob, he grew up in Noroton
Bay and at Noroton Yacht Club in the early 1950s. After college and a few
career moves, he moved back to The Bay where he and his wife Barb raised their
two children.
Bob is a sailor and a talented musician who was a member of
"The Noroton Bay Royal Fiddler Crab" marching band and played his
trombone on opening day parades, led Noroton Yacht Club members singing folk
songs with his guitar and entertained us all playing the steel drums at more
than a few Club Caribbean Night parties.
Left to right: Sport,
Bob Wells, Carolyn McCurdy Wilson, Kevin Jaffee, Peter Wilson 1958 Sears Cup
crew
During the summers of
1960-64, I was lucky enough to hold the ever-so- coveted title of “Launch Boy”
at the Noroton Yacht Club. Hey, don’t knock it! I was outside most of the time
– on the water – and as I lived in The Bay, the commute to work only took about
two minutes by foot. Johnnie Reinhardt, another Bay neighbor, worked with me.
Initially, we worked
for Captain Boyce. In Boyce’s day, launch boys did basically everything
required to keep the Club in shape. We scraped and painted boats, the Clubhouse
exterior, floats, etc. We raked the beach every day. We kept the parking and
dry-sail areas clean. We mopped floors, cleaned toilets, shined brass, kept the
launches gassed up and in tip-top shape, started each day at 0800 sharp with a
cannon blast – struck the colors at sunset – and, yes, drove members and their
guests back and forth to their boats. Every once in a while, we even had time
to take a break.
When Captain Boyce
retired, a math teacher in the Darien school system named Charlie Potter
served a brief tenure as “Club Manager.” Early in the spring of 1963 was when
life for Johnnie and me got interesting. This was during the reign of Commodore
Bob Crane. Bob and the other nautical grand wizards decided not to replace
Charlie Potter when he quit mid season, but rather have Johnnie and me manage
the waterfront. Around this time, Johnny and I were making the exorbitant sum
of about $2.50 an hour. Do you think we got a raise for taking on additional
responsibilities? Nah. These Commodores were not dumb.
Anyway, decades
later, Bob Crane would still tell anyone who would listen that the Club in the
early-1960s never ran better – even though its management team was composed of
a couple of local teenagers.
Happy Landings: An Art Form
Each launch has
different characteristics for making good landings on boats and floats. In
reverse, some “track” port while others list starboard. With a full load and
many on the port side to “fend off”, chines dig in and off the bow goes. In
time, any good launch boy learns how to make successful landings – in high
winds or seas, etc. It’s not long before he or she realizes “you don’t get a
second chance” for a happy landing.
Getting people off
boats that are “jumping” and swinging on their moorings is tough. You time your
approach to meet a boat as it comes to you. Then you just pray that someone up
forward will grab onto a stanchion on your target and hold your bow in before
the wind pulls you away. After this, you pray that passengers haven’t
experienced too much Mt. Gay that day.
One of the most
satisfying feats for a good launch boy to master is a flying “spin stop” –
where it looks like you are going to ram a float, only to have the launch in
reverse slip delicately into place – as it “kisses” the landing spot. Gets ‘em
every time.
Anchors Aweigh
Sometime in the early
1960s, Johnnie Reinhardt and I – the Club’s stalwart launch boys – experienced
an epiphany. For decades, strong southerlies and hurricanes had stretched out
mooring lines and chains – south to north – only to have these lines snap,
leaving mushrooms and chains strung out and buried in mud all over the harbor.
Moreover, these mushrooms were quietly abandoned...and still lying there. After
getting approval from the Club’s Commodores, we built a “mooring lift” float
with a winch system and, on our days off, started “grappling” the harbor by
combing it east to west. In the workboat, with a grappling hook trailing off
its stern, we’d feel a “tick, tick, tick” as the grapple ran through links of
chain buried in the muddy bottom. At that point, we’d stop the boat, carefully
lift the grapple, snatch the chain, and haul it in until it stood straight off
the bottom. We’d tie off the grapple and gun the workboat to “free” the
mushroom or hook it onto the mooring-lift winch to break the mushroom’s suction
from below.
The payoff? For four
years, it took us an average “hit rate” of 15 minutes to locate an abandoned
anchor. Smart’s Beach became “anchor city” – with primarily 150- or 250-pound
anchors, shackles, and lengths of chain – which we would sell by word-of-mouth
for roughly “half price.” Once, we even lifted a 2,000-pound anchor with a
500-pound ball and 40 feet of one- inch chain. Hauling this monster off the
bottom was a real challenge – requiring us to break the suction using our scuba
and other gear. (You might think the shanks on anchors would be eaten away, but
when an anchor lies in the mud, the mud protects it from metallic erosion.)
For
me, this “days-off” activity netted about $3,000 per summer – and basically
made it possible for me to attend and pay for college, a fact I never admitted
to anyone as it would have embarrassed my parents. (Tuition at my alma
mater DePauw University during these years was about $3,200/year.)
FIRE!
One afternoon in
either 1961 or 1962, I recall bringing a group of sailors back to the pier when
I noticed smoke coming out of a casement window above the Club’s living room. I
floored the launch, landed it, and raced down the pier yelling “Fire!” Reaching
the building, I threw a hose to the upstairs deck, turned it on and went inside
to the small storage room above the living room spraying the smoldering fire
through a smoky haze. Suddenly, the water from the hose stopped. Someone below
must have turned it off – evidently not knowing that clockwise opened the
flow..
Thankfully, by this
time, the fire had spread and sirens could be heard coming up Baywater Road and in no time the Noroton Fire Department took over. For years I had
nightmares about who might have turned off the hose on me and whether I could
have controlled the fire myself had the water’s flow continued.
What started the fire
in the first place? No one ever found out. Personally, I suspect a couple of
Club kids were “lighting up” secretly... and then stepped away, not realizing
what they had left behind.
Flat Black Sun Dresses
One of the fun jobs
at the Club in those days was painting the old casement windows high above the
living room and the other downstairs room known as the “Scuttlebutt.” To tackle
this task, you got out a long ladder, hooked a large can of Flat Black Rust-oleum to a rung up in the air and started
painting; pane after bloody pane. So, there I was, up on the ladder with my
trusty brush on a warm summer’s day, when suddenly, down below on the sun deck
(very near my ladder), Vi Crimmins decided to have a little tea party with the
ladies. No sweat. I focused on not getting too much paint on each little window
and the ladies focused on their tea. All of a sudden, I noticed the hook I had
attached to the handle on the paint can started ever-so-slowly to straighten out.
I froze. The paint can separated from the hook and seemed to take forever as it
floated down to the flagstone deck. Upon making contact with the deck, it
launched about half a gallon of Flat
Black Rust-oleum onto
anything within a 20-foot radius of my ladder. The terrific splat of the can
was followed by even more terrific shrieks. Needless to say, Vi and her lady
friends were not spared from black blobs of paint on their sun dresses. Only
history knows if any of those pretty sundresses survived to tea another day.
And there’s no way I am telling how long it took me to work up enough nerve to
come down off that ladder.
When Does the Snack Bar Open?
At some point in the
early 1960s a couple was hired to manage the Club’s snack bar. Neither of them
knew from boat people. And I would argue that neither of them knew from how to
run a snack bar. Perhaps their list of references was never called or maybe
they were the only applicants.
Anyway, here they
were and we were stuck with them for the summer. (Spoiler alert: No they were
not rehired the following season.) One disadvantage of this duo was their
inability to open the snack bar “on time”, even though they lived in an
apartment on the premises. Coffee? Customers were lucky to get a cup before
about 1100. Members were constantly grousing about the arrangement, so Johnnie
Reinhardt and I decided to “up the ante” of unambiguous complaint.
One day, when the
snack bar should have been open but was not, we brought the cannon used to
start the day at 0800 up to the 2nd floor in the sail loft. We aimed said
cannon right at the wall of the apartment, opposite their bedroom. Inserting a
shell into the breech, we pulled the ripcord and created a blast similar to
what must have been heard in the trenches in WWI. Immediately, you could hear
the couple screaming in the apartment and presently, a door flew open and the
guy stumbled out with only his “tightie- whities” on. It may have been
unorthodox, but they got the message and seldom were late again. (But we
actually felt bad afterwards, when we learned that the lady was pregnant.
Sigh.)
The Dreaded Workshop
Today, the Club has a
terrific workshop – a separate building with all kinds of room for tools of all
descriptions, storage, etc. Well, back in the early 1960s, the Club workshop
was a dank cavern underneath the raised living room. You got there by raising a
barn door on a rope off of Smart’s Beach. The inside was like a catacomb with a
height of about five feet. It had a workbench at the far end and too few lights
to see where you were going. During unusually high tides, the water came right
in to say “hi” and never really left. Despite its quirks, this was the space
where we launch boys kept all of our supplies (including paints, tools and
gear). The little black
square to the right of the chimney was the entrance to the workshop.
Looking back, I can’t
imagine how we survived operating power tools with so much water all around us.
Johnnie and I were the first ones to electrify the pier. It’s amazing we didn’t
electrify ourselves. One habit we had was to empty our paint brushes after each
use on the concrete foundation wall of the workshop. This only came to light
recently during the renovation of the Club when our artwork was uncovered.
Shockingly, the wall did not get saved for posterity, but I think some photos
were taken, to the amazement of those who took them.
Put the Little Water Rats in the Penalty Box
With every decade,
there are invariably young kids who hang around the Club. Like water rats,
they’re just there - getting underfoot and incessantly following the launch
boys. Sometimes helpful, but more often, just there. Grant Tankoos was one.
Woody Priest another. But in my tenure as launch boy, our prime water rat was
Alec Wiggin. He was like a fly on flypaper. He was always there. So, every once
in a while, we would lift him up and drop him into the large box at the end of
the pier – where we stored racing markers, lines, and the like. We’d lock the
box with Alec in it, go about our business and every once in a while, yell in
to him to see how he was doing.
I know, I know, it
was a horrible thing to do to a little kid. What can I say? It was a different
time. At least Alec didn’t develop too many mental scars from the experience as
far as I know. After all, he’s still a bit of a water rat.
And lastly, some
members have a nerve: Calling for the launch from
Ziegler’s Cove.
It happened. And no, we didn’t.
By Ed Clarke (Commodore 1987-1988)
It all began
in the early 1980s when more dinghy storage was needed. Rear Commodore Tor
Arneberg said that they had decided to build two dinghy floats to be placed
alongside the bulkhead between the third and fourth finger floats for eight
dinghies. Captain Devers made some drawings for two 12 x 20 foot floats and a
group led by Gordon Ettie built them. They used treated lumber for a longer
life and to avoid painting every year. The floats have served us well.
In reviewing
the state of our facilities before the 1985 season we focused on the existing
floats and began a program for replacement since all of them had been in use
for up to twenty-two years. They had been repaired many times after storm
damage and wear and tear and needed painting every year. It was decided that we
could build them with volunteers under the direction of Ed Devers, who had
developed the system.
The Master
Builders started with the finger floats. Capt. Devers had some hardware made at
a local iron shop to connect adjacent floats, ordered the lumber, Styrofoam,
nuts bolts and nails, and did some preliminary cutting and assembly of the
basic framing. A group of retired volunteers did the drilling, bolting and
nailing. Once we got familiar with the system two or three of us would start
the layout and basic framing of the next float while four or five others were
bolting up the frames installing flotation and nailing on the deck. It got to
the point
where we could assemble a float in three days’ time to produce four in seven or
eight days by working on three at a time in various stages. The framing was
done with the floats inverted and then we could turn them over on blocking and
install the Styrofoam and deck. Styrofoam was pre-painted with bottom paint
along with the immersed portion of the framing before the Styrofoam went in.
Hardware and fendering were the last to go on. An important improvement was the
addition of an extra ten-inch plank around the perimeter to the bottom level of
the floatation to protect the Styrofoam from erosion and marine growth which
likes sunlight.
As the years
went by Ed Clarke continued to organize the group when the changes were made in
the club managers. We finished the finger floats, the swim float, the long dinghy float
and lastly the balance of the other dinghy floats and the walkway to the swim
float. We made six shorter walkway panels in the space of the previous five for
easier handling. The December “92 storm did some minor damage to the floats
when they were scattered around the neighborhood by the flooding and waves.
With a crane for just a day, we were able to return them to the dry sail area
and return to a neighbor’s good graces.
In 1993 we
built a new launch float designed by Jeff Eng using fiberglass tubs instead of
Styrofoam. Jeff Eng calculated the loads to determine the proper number of
tubs. We, of little faith, wondered if they would float at the right height,
but they came out beautifully. In 1994 two more dinghy floats were added along
the bulkhead between the second and third fingers. This completed a program
that included thirty-eight floats. The program provided a major cost-saving in
construction labor. Another important activity of the Mast Builders has been
helping to launch and haul the floats at the start and the finish of the
sailing season. It has been a great experience, even though the list of those
with triple bypasses, artificial hips, minor strokes, arthritic problems and
other internal operations grew each year. They all continued to work and
enjoyed the opportunity.
The regular
Master Builders for all or part of the program included John Abberley, Bob
Arrison, Ed Clarke, Bob Crane, Ken Coventry, Eric Hansen, Steve Nightingale,
Sam Peirce, Bob Polhemus, Hank Strauss, Peter Wells and Rollie Wiggin. AN Cartoon by
Noroton member Pete Wells.
The Freak Rig Race was the highlight of the Junior program for
many sailors. The rules were simple: it was a race, but you were
not allowed sails that belonged to that boat. Kids were in charge of what they were to enter and how it was to be
propelled.
Anything that floated was allowed, leading to some very inventive
entries. Who thought a block of ice was a good idea? One of
the best constructions was by Rich McCurdy, who took two Jet 14s, lashed them
together with boards, installed a Blue Jay boom, added a Lightning main
stitched to it as the gaff, added a Lightning boom and used a parachute as a
spinnaker.
Completing the race was not always the objective. Fun, personal expression, and a crash course
in naval architecture certainly was. Some were quite simple where you
substituted another boat's sails, but those were quite few. Kids got
creative. Ian Falconer, now author of the Olivia books, was the gold
standard when it came to the Freak Rig Race. He turned his Blue Jay into Noah’s
Ark.
Animal heads poked out of port holes. The sails were not the
center of the show.
Ian on he left with his dog and Craig Sinclair were Mr. and Mrs.
Noah. To their instructor, Basil Lyden, it was all about looks! During
the celebration of the rebuilding of the club in 1992 there was an adult Freak
Rig Race where every Commodore was assigned an Opti and towed behind Tom Ross’
motor boat.
An Ideal Way to Get Out on the Water
In the early 1990s, Pequot
Yacht Club wanted to find a boat that could be raced but would be comfortable
for older sailors as well as a stable platform for beginners. They asked Noroton’s own Bruce Kirby to come
up with the design – he came up with the Ideal 18. In addition, clubs up and down the sound were
dealing with members who did not have the time to keep a racing boat in top
form. Many clubs decided it was time for
a club owned boat that lived on a mooring.
At this time, the Noroton Ensign
fleet consisted of 10 boats and was concerned that a club owned fleet would
seriously impact their viability. It was
decided that Noroton would buy the boats, but they would not be allowed to race
on Sundays with the other fleets. They
would be used in Ideal competition with other clubs on the sound and for
members to sail and learn to sail.
Within a few years, Ideal 18
regattas were being held at neighboring clubs. Noroton’s racers, both
experienced and those new to racing, began participating. Use of these boats for women’s events became
increasingly prevalent.
With the decline of the Ensign fleet Noroton
invited the Ideal 18 sailors to race on Sundays. To increase participation and
improve results, a new Learn to Race program was developed for the women and
was later expanded to include men and families. By the early 2010s team racing was
in full swing at the club and the Ideals were the perfect boat for a new Learn
to Team Race program.
The Ideals have grown in
popularity and are now used throughout the summer for competition and
learning. Women’s sailing was one of the
first programs to use the boats. For
over 20 years women’s sailing has prospered, teaching women that they are fully
capable of taking control of a sailboat. Since then we have added Learn to Sail, Learn to Race and Learn to Team
Race. On any given day the Ideals are
filled with families and members who just love getting out on the water in a
quick and easy way.
Cartoon
by Pete Wells,
a
Noroton Member was best known for his creation, the cartoon The Katzenjammer
Kids. Pete
lived in the bay, sailed his catboat at Noroton and began to draw cartoons for
the club.
Sailing is a self-governing sport which means
it's completely up to sailors to abide by the rules and uphold the fairness of
racing. It's a matter of integrity and sailors learn the importance of playing
fair and respecting the rules of the game. In sailing, the conditions are
ever-changing. That being said, there
are rules and rule books and people don’t always agree on what happened in
conflict situations.
Since sailing began at Noroton there needed to
be ways to solve these conflicts on the racecourse. In the 1945 Windward Leeward (a newsletter
started during the war to keep those Noroton members apprised of what was
happening at the club), the following was posted:
Last Wednesday evening the first of a series
of dinghy protest meetings was held. There were two protests. The
first was Stu Repp in 545 against 500 (Bill Middleer) and X115 (Norma
Fincke). After a long discussion, the
Committee consisting of William Richardson, Gordon Aymar, and Harold Nash
disqualified X115.
The
second protest was between Wade Woodworth and Priscilla High. The Committee disqualified Priscilla.
Wade Woodworth Sr., the Chariman of the
Committee, gave some useful and helpful information involving the
protests. Although there have been no
other night meetings since, there are meetings held after every dinghy race on
weekends.
By the 1950s there was a strong bond amongst
sailors: there were rules and you were
on your honor to obey them. The fundamental principle of sportsmanship was
that you retired from the race when you knew you had broken a rule. If you were not sure, and another boat
protested you, a protest committee would take testimony from both boats and
decide if either broke a rule. The
penalty was a DSQ – disqualification from that race.
In the late 1950s, Bill Cox Jr. was leading
the Long Island Sound Lightning Championships by a wide margin going into the
last race. “We rounded the weather mark well
ahead of the next boat, and by the time we approached the reach mark we were a
leg ahead of the next boat. Knowing that
Bill liked to cut things close, I asked him not to hit the mark. You guessed it. He hit the mark and even though there was not
a boat around, we withdrew from the race, thus losing the series. Carl Vanduyne did the same at
the ‘68 Olympics in Mexico. Best to be able to sleep at night..."
By the 1970s, the sportsman attitude began to
lag and, not surprisingly, the bully began to appear in sailboat racing. Perhaps it happened as sailors who played
other sports had learned to keep playing until the referee blew the whistle, or
life had moved on and kids used to yell things like “Port Right Rudder Rule” to
confuse another sailor and get their way.
Around the turn of the century, the
fundamental principle of sportsmanship continued to be the foundation of our
‘self-regulating’ sport. However, over
time the penalties became less severe. When you broke a rule, instead of being expected to withdraw (retire)
from the race, you could take a 360 degree turn if you touched a mark, and a
720 degree turn if you fouled another boat. On the other hand, if you caused an injury or damage by your foul, you must
retire.
Over time, protests have become a burden to
time stressed sailors. Many who are fouled
don’t bother to protest. Sailing has
partially caught up with other sports that have referees to call the
fouls. Trained umpires serve as on-the-water judges in venues like match racing and team racing, and now more recently
some fleet racing and Olympic medal races. You are still expected to play by
the rules, but when competitors can’t resolve the incident by one of them
taking a penalty, the umpires can step in and impose a penalty on the boat that
broke a rule.
By David Earle
At NYC back in the day (early 50s) if
you muddled around in small boats as
a junior you probably did at least part of it the original Dyer Dink, an
iconic wooden lapstrake 10-footer built
in Warren,
Rhode Island by, and named after, Bill Dyer. It was a sweet little boat,
classically handsome, round-chined—and therefore somewhat tender—and
all wood,
which required amounts of annual
maintenance that would provoke second thoughts today.
But
maintenance was part of its attraction. Few boats were immaculate, ours
included,
but you noticed the ones that were
and it seemed
that owners who cared enough to scrape, strip, polish, paint and varnish
also tended to be winning skippers. There was a
seriousness of purpose that translated from backyard
to starting line. Much of that labor was invariably parental, but
nonetheless,
season by season, lessons were
offered, information absorbed, and skills gained. By our mid-teens, we
understood the 60/100/180 sandpaper progression, the art of tipping
and not to varnish in the
hot sun.
Why did these
elegant little boats disappear? Fiberglass played a role, and Dyer was
using fiberglass as early as 1949, but a major driver was the War
Department. The government asked him to supply lifeboats that could be
carried
aboard small minesweepers and PT boats. They
dropped stacks of Dhows over shipwrecks to provide survivors a place to
await rescue. As
recalled by Anne Jones, Bill Dyer’s granddaughter:
The government came to my grandfather during
WWII and asked him to build a boat
that would fit in nine feet of space
and hold nine men. The original 9’ers (the Dyer Dhows) were plywood and
were used on PT boats. I have pictures of them being loaded on big
transport planes and even one
showing nine of our men standing in one out there on the river and it
was still floating.
The Dhow was
hard-chined and flat bottomed, which offered improved stability and could hold up to four people and 650 pounds. They
could also be rowed and powered with a small
outboard, which made them versatile and ideal for junior sailing
programs. Today, Mystic
Seaport has 50 Dhows, the largest fleet in North America, of which 48 are sailed
regularly.
David Earle is a
third-generation member of Noroton who grew up there in the 1950s sailing Dyers,
Blue Jays and Lightnings. In later years, he co-owned a Pearson 31 with his
father and now cruises with his family aboard a Grand Banks 32.
DAY 1: The opening day of the 2021 Viper 640 North American Championship
completed three light air races for the 39-boat fleet, including
7 Noroton YC teams. The sailors came from California, Florida, New
Jersey, Pennsylvania, New York, Connecticut, Virginia, Maryland,
Louisiana, Iowa, Maine, and Quebec and Ontario, Canada. It started out as a day
when nobody was expecting to race due to a dire forecast of very light
winds. All the weather models called for 3-4 knots and then even less.
But after a two hour shore postponement, PRO Sandy Grosvenor (Annapolis,
MD) started in the middle of Long Island Sound when a light 5-knot
southerly filled in at about 1300. With only three points separating the
top three, and each of the teams winning a race, the Day 1 leader was
the Great Scott team of Jay Rhame and Peter and Rachel
Beardsley(Mamomoth Lakes, CA). “The key today was to get off the line
cleanly and connect the dots of breeze,” said Rhame. Third place in
Race 1 was Bada Boom, Noroton's Bob McHugh and Justin Scott.
With the very light and variable winds, the ebb tide became a
significant factor. After numerous boats “kissed” the windward mark,
competitors rounded with a generous amount of caution so as not to have
to do a penalty in light air. With the wind constantly shifting,
predominantly to the right all day, and with a strong ebb tide, PRO
Grosvenor “walked” the windward/leeward courses using leeward and upwind
leg course changes to give the sailors a more balanced course from a
time on port/starboard basis.
By Peter Wilson
The NYYC Race Committee
abandoned Race 2 on the second windward leg due to dense fog, fortunately when Intrepid
was ahead and on the starboard layline. Gretel II called for a lay day. The morning of
the resail was fair weather with very light wind, pretty normal for Newport in
September. We were just past Castle Hill Lighthouse on the long tow out to the
America’s Cup buoy when my very good friend and tactician Steve Van Dyck was suddenly
stung by a bee who, unbeknownst to Steve, was sharing his can of Coke. Steve had an allergic reaction severe enough
that he needed medical attention. He was
quickly helicoptered to the Newport hospital where he was treated and later
recovered with no ill effects. As we had
already left the dock, the rules of the Match would not permit a delay.
For Full Story: 1970 Intrepid Start
By Owen C. Torrey, Jr.
Owen was a lawyer who at age 37 went to work at Hard Sails
and ending up revolutionizing the sail making industry. The two major innovations were moving from
cotton to dacron and introducing
intricate mathematical equations according to aerodynamic theories to sail
design. This also meant that these
designs could be reproduced again and again without repeating the cut-and-try
processes of the oldsters. Told
by a group of Connecticut hotshots that the curve was too radical, Hard made it
anyway. Bill Cox put it on his Lightning, won the world championship in
Buffalo, and Hard's orders began to soar. He later became a president of the YRALI. He was a member of American Yacht Club and New
York Yacht Club.
The summers I spent sailing Wee Scots and especially Stars
at Noroton in the early 40’s were some of the happiest of my life. They marked the beginning of a career on the
water and many friendships that have lasted all my life. It was a truly delightful atmosphere in which
to grow up.
I should explain that my home was in land-locked
Scarsdale. Prior to World War II, my
parents customarily rented out our home in Scarsdale for the summer and rented a
house in West Falmouth on Cape Cod for our use. For five of those summers, I was packed off
to a boys camp in Pennsylvania for two months.
The camp stressed horseback riding and did not offer sailing, although
there was a lake and the campers were allowed to have boats of their own and
use them on the lake in free periods during the afternoon. One of my friends had such a boat, an eight
foot pram with a single sail. He had no
interest in it, and in return for two cartons of chewing gum allowed me to use
it for the whole two months. I learned
to sail it by trial and error.
By 1939, the summer I was 13 years old, my parents abandoned
the idea of going to Cape Cod and instead rented the Repp house in
Darien and
joined the Noroton Yacht Club. I was
retired from camp life and enrolled in the “junior program” at Noroton. That needs explaining. In those days, the Club was pretty much the
creature of Paul Smart. He built it; he
was Commodore; he ran it. The junior
program consisted of a fleet of Wee Scots, most of which were owned by
Paul
and chartered for the season to the parents of children like me. Mine
was number 193 and called Duckling. My parents were not boat people and
were very
apprehensive about letting me go out alone on the water. Luckily, Bob
Crane, who was older than I by
more then he is now, was available to give sailing lessons. I claimed
to know how to sail because of my
experience with the pram at camp so my parents arranged for me to sail
with Bob
and abide by his opinion of my skills or lack of same. He passed me and
I was allowed to sail alone.
The program at the Club was very simple. Weekends there were races for the Stars, of
which I think there were about 12 or 15, and the Wee Scots, of which the number
was 8 or 10. The Star group, which was
the envy of all the kids, was dominated by Paul Smart and included Harold Nash,
the Vice Commodore, his sons Dick and Ben, Hilary Smart and his brother Paul
G., Clarke Nickerson and others. The Wee
Scot group included, besides myself, young Bill Ziegler, Dick Rich, Gordon
Aymar, Meffort Runyon and others. The
races were run from Paul Smart’s Power Cruiser, Adelaide. They always started and finished off nun 4 at
Peartree Point. The courses used certain
of the harbor buoys plus nun 28, which used to be off Long Neck Point, and the
nun off Smith’s reef, which I think is now a Bell.
Between races, the boats sat on moorings; there was no dry
sailing. Launching and hauling of boats
was fairly complicated. There was a
marine railway at the north end of the beach, on which a cradle could be let
down into the water and hauled up again to where a crane could lift the boat
from the railway cradle to a permanent cradle or trailer. Power was from an old and cranky engine and
winch. The cradle didn’t always stay on
the tracks. It didn’t necessarily fit
all boats, either. If touched by an
unfamiliar hand, it instantly rebelled and went out of service.
We kids spent most of our days sailing the Wee Scots for
fun. The games included tag, backward
racing, steering by sails only. When we
tired of sailing we’d swim off the pier with more water games. For the
life of me I can’t remember that
there was ever any adult supervision, although the club employed two men
to
keep things shipshape and in good condition, and I suspect they were
keeping an
eye on us. Today, I suppose they’d be
launchmen, but we had no launch then. One got to one’s boat by rowing or sculling a dinghy. Those two were
jacks of all trades. Both were named John, and hence were called Big John and Little John. I think the
senior one, Big John, was John Warga. I
can’t remember Little John’s last name. I do remember that both were great with kids.
I spent 1939 and 1940 sailing my Wee Scot, but in 1941, when
I was 15, I finally got my Star. It was
a brand new Parkman and it cost $888, less sails. The sails came from
Prescott Wilson for
around $200. The boat’s number was 2002
and I called it Cygnet as a step up from Duckling. I later had four
more Stars, but this was the
major milestone for me. I was now able
to race in the fabulous world of the Star boats against real sailors. An early experience was very humbling. A major event in the Long Island
Sound Star
world was Noroton’s Race Week. This
event, which was held in June, drew some 40 or so of the best Star
sailors in
the northeast. Our local ace was still
Paul Smart, who had a Mid-Winter Championship or two to his credit, but
he was eclipsed
by visitors such as Stan Ogilvy, Bill Picken, Harold Halstead, Whitney
Steuck,
John White and more. In 1941, this
regatta took place when my new boat was only a week or so old. In my
first major race, I got off the
starting line in good shape and found myself among the first five boats
on the
weather leg to the Cows bell off Stamford. Approaching Shippan Point from the east on a port tack, I found myself
about to cross the famous Bill Picken’s FoFo on Starboard. I cleverly
tacked in front of him and he
cleverly punched a hole in my transom with his bow. We never did find
out what a protest would
have decided about my being too close (today I think I’d win, but under
1940
rules and cases I’m afraid I wouldn’t), because I tacked again in toward
the
eastern side of Shippan Point and pronged a rock hard enough to knock a
chip
out of the front of the keel. I
ultimately finished in the tank and Picken lost interest in protesting.
I was glad to escape.
The Noroton Race Weeks were major events for many
years. Later years brought names like
Skip and Mary Etchells, Arthur Deacon, Walter Von Hutschler, Pam O’Gorman and
more.
The local racing in 1941 and 1942 was mostly for local
monthly and season prizes, of which there were a lot. We did send an entry to the midgets which
then were held once at least in Stars at Manhasset, but I’m not aware that we
ever bothered with the juniors; it was more fun to stay home and race with the adults. The year the midgets were in Stars at
Manhasset, I was our skipper. We broke
down in one race and finished poorly in the series. Interestingly enough, the winner that year
was Bob Mosbacher. Competition in the
local races was very keen, although none of us ever beat Paul Smart in Melody
for a series. I think that my new boat
gave me an edge over my contemporaries. Hilary Smart was sailing Nutmeg, #1110; Freddy Campbell had Rhythm,
#1288; Clarke Nickerson’s Argo was #765. A coveted prize was the James Starr Nash Trophy, given by the Nash
family in memory of their son who was lost in a frostbiting accident in the Hudson
River. This was given to the junior
(under 17, I think) with the best season score in Stars, and I was very pleased
to win it. In later years that trophy
was awarded to the overall winner of a Fall Star Roundup consisting of weekend
regattas at Sea Cliff, Huntington, Cedar Point and Milford. I was even more pleased to be able to win it
again in that configuration.
Noroton’s local prizes were awarded at summer’s end at a
banquet in the club house. Paul Smart
was the master of ceremonies and he made it into quite a show. It was fun for the sailors, especially us
younger ones, but I got the impression that the non-sailing adults such as my
parents would liked to have seen an earlier ending to the evening.
1942 was the last year most of those my age were able to
continue sailing. In the summer of 1943,
Hilary and I were both freshmen at Harvard where we roomed together. In
1944 and 1945, we were both in the army. He was an air cadet, and I
was a
rifleman. We returned in 1946 both to
Harvard again as roommates and to Noroton sailing. That was my last
year as a member. In 1947, the family stopped renting houses in
the summer and my parents and I joined the American Yacht Club in Rye (I also joined Larchmont because by then we
were dry sailing Stars and American had no hoist). In retrospect, I
had only a few years at
Noroton, but they loom large in my memory.
Our age group, give or take a few years, included the Campbell clan,
Bibs and Norma Fincke (sp?), Tony, Sandy and Sue Widmann, Dick Rick,
Bill
Ziegler, Anne Franklin, Hilary and young Paul Smart, Gordon Aymar and
more. As a group, we spent many hours at
sailing, swimming, tennis and so forth. They were happy hours. It was
during that time that Gordon Aymar Sr. wrote his book, Yacht Racing
Rules and
Tactics, which consists of many pictures illustrating how to do this and
that. His model in most of those
pictures was Dick Rich, who after the war roomed with Hilary and me at
Harvard. Dick became a career Navy fighter pilot and
was killed in Vietnam.
Sailing and especially sailing Star boats was the common
thread in all our activities, and it has continued to link our lives even
though we don’t all still operate from Noroton.
Hilary and I have been lifelong friends.
At Harvard, we were co-skippers of our entry in the Star
Intercollegiates held at the Coast Guard Academy in both 1947 and 1948 and we
won both years, beating, among others, Bobby Coulson of Yale. Hilary went on to take the gold medal in the
Star Class in the ’48 Olympics. It was through
him that I wound up as Woody Pirie’s crew in the Swallow Class at the same
Olympics, in which we got the bronze. I
still take pride in the fact that my name is on the large ship’s wheel in the
Noroton Yacht Club living room as the winner of the 1939 and 1940 season
championships in the Wee Scot class.
I’d like to close with a few words about Paul Smart. He was by far the most remarkable man I’ve
ever met. In World War I, he served in
the field artillery in France and won a Distinguished Service Cross, our second
highest. He taught American History at
Oxford. He played varsity hockey at
Harvard and helped put himself through Harvard Law School playing semi-pro
hockey. He was brilliant and
tireless. He built the Noroton Yacht
Club and gave it the initial direction and organization which enable it to grow
into the strength and merit is has today. He served long and well as president of the Star Class and later as head
administrator of Olympic yachting (I forget the title). I think his contributions to our sport are as
great as those of any one you could name. More to the point, he was a tremendous help to me on many occasions when
things weren’t going just right.
By Bob Wells
Long-time
Noroton Yacht Club member Peter Wells was born with saltwater coursing through
his veins. His dad, John H. Wells, was
an accomplished yacht designer who instilled in young Peter the itch to simply
“mess around in boats”.
In
the early 1930s Peter and Bill Cox, Sr., among others, started the country’s
first junior sailing program at Larchmont Yacht Club. During WWII, he captained a PT boat in the
Pacific as part of America’s “mosquito fleet”. He and his wife Helen moved to and built a house in 1947 at a
land-fill community on the coast of Connecticut called Noroton Bay. At that time, less than a dozen houses stood
in The Bay – not to mention a lovely structure, The Noroton Yacht Club.
Cartooning? Well, it all began at Yale – where Peter
graduated as that school’s first student to major in Fine Arts. He created the first “illustrated” record
album cover for a single disc (Prior to
that, records came in books with craft paper sleeves). Apropos of just about nothing, Peter also
invented the use of cactus needles for Victrolas… and advancement with a
miniscule life.
In
the early 1940s Peter wrote and illustrated a variety of children’s books,
one of which, Mr. Tootwhistle’s Invention,
won 1st prize in the New York Herald Tribune’s Spring Book Festival
of 1942. The Pirate’s Apprentice soon followed, as did a job working for
King Features where he wrote and drew Katzenjammer
Kids comic books.
What
endeared Peter to so many Noroton Yacht Club sailors was his continuing stream
of cartoons gracing Yachting and Motor Boating magazines. But beyond this, Peter was one of those
people who constantly had a need to unleash illustrated giggles on everyone. Other Club members who “gaff” (and I don’t
mean rig). Doctors. Neighbors. No one was out of reach for one of his cartoons. In fact, during a memorial service
held for him at The Club in 1995, over 300 of these little drawings graced its walls in
remembrance. His classic map of Noroton
to this day hangs on the second floor of The Club on the hallway to the heads.
Some
look to the west of the Club’s pier and still remember a lovely little white
catboat that helped remind people sailing has a history worth keeping.
Below
are some of Peter’s cartoons, including the map that hangs in the clubhouse.
By John Rousmniere
John Rousmaniere is an American writer
and author of 30 historical, technical, and instructional books on
sailing, yachting history, New York
history, business history, and the histories of clubs, businesses, and other
organizations. An authority on seamanship and boating safety, he has conducted
tests of equipment and sailing skills, and led or participated in fact-finding
inquiries into boating accidents. He has been presented with several awards for
his writing and his contributions to boating safety and seamanship.
I spent my childhood in Cincinnati, where the big thing was
the Redlegs, but was brought East to Oyster Bay when I was 11 and discovered
sailing. I sailed Blue Jays at the Cold
Spring Harbor Beach Club, which is only seven years older than Noroton, and
like Noroton is family-oriented and does not have a bar. I first came across the Sound to Noroton in
the late fifties to sail in the Junior Championships. The Beach Club had a large tennis crowd
(there are two tennis balls in its burgee), so, due to the shortage of boy power,
I was on the Junior crew almost every year between age 12 and age 18. Since the previous year’s winner always
hosted the current year’s Juniors and since Bill Cox, Jr. and Kevin Jaffe won
regularly, many of these events were sailed off Noroton. We always stayed with Vi Crimmins, who had a
Cold Spring Harbor connection.
I have four vivid memories of the juniors, all involving
Noroton. First, one year sailing off Sea
Cliff, an incompetent powerboat operator steamed at high speed across a tow
line and all the Lightnings smashed together; Kevin Jaffe – who then was the
defending Sears champion – had by far the loudest and most correct reaction.
Second, there was the immense challenge of the finals, with
only five boats in a goldfish bowl surrounded by what seemed to an adolescent
to be dozens of spectator boats. We made
the finals very rarely; Noroton was always there. Third, at Pequot in 1961, we lost a very
close series to Lester Abberly. And
fourth, in 1962, when I was an instructor at the Juniors, I remember going out in
Briggs Cunningham’s massive tender Chaperone: swinging out from the Noroton pier, he kicked the stern in too quickly
and her afterquarter rubrails split a piling almost in half.
My next visit to Noroton, I believe, was to sail in one of
the first Tiger Cat National Championships.
We sailed across from Cold Spring Harbor in a cold, wet easterly and
tried hard to keep up with the Noroton people, who were more familiar with
these strange vessels and, anyway, were more skilled at sailing in a sloop than
we were from our deep, flat harbor on Long Island. That was when I met Bill Cox, who in
subsequent years I came to know better when he and his brother Gardner and Bill
Thomson sailed 5.5 Meters at Seawanhaka, where I had migrated to sail Finns.
When I was a Noroton member in the late 1970’s, I raced Lasers
in the evenings, day sailed in a dory, and occasionally raced in one keelboat
or another with Bob Bavier, Bob and Jim Crane, Bill Cox and Andy
Kostanecki. I was fortunate in my
shipmates and we did well. Jim Crane
had the most remarkable skill in making a boat sail fast off the wind.
I remember two hard blows. In a Soling regatta in 1977, one of those powerful, sudden October
southeasters that we dread sprang up without notice and beat the daylights out
of us. I got in out of the worst of it
thanks to a jib sheet traveler that went astray at the top of the first leg,
and we got the boat into the club and out of the water. Some of our competitors ran up on Smith’s
Reef; others strained their masts.
That storm blew straight onto the club, and many mooring
pendants snapped. A bunch of people
spent the afternoon charging around, grabbing drifting boats and towing them
to shelter. One of the Pearson 35s was
heaving up on the little beach as Sid Rogers and I climbed aboard followed
closely by her owner, who magically produced the ignition key and backed her
off just as the stern was swinging onto the sand. Although the seamanship performed that
afternoon was pretty astonishing, we were all too well brought up to
congratulate ourselves publicly. There
being no bar, we could not have had a backslapping celebration, anyway. So we set our jaws firmly but modestly and
went home: all in a day’s work.
Eventually I succumbed to the demands of single parenthood
and my need to back off from racing. My
son Will later spent a rewarding summer in the junior program, and I came back
from time to time to see and sail with friends.
In the late eighties I became involved with a series of
instructional sailing videotapes. When
we decided to do a tape on small boat sailing and racing, Wally Ross
loaned us
a Sonar. The Sonar fleet kindly agreed
to stage a race for us to film. Some
skippers, in honor of the occasion, hoisted brand-new sails. We went
out on a humid Sunday afternoon. Black clouds far to the north were
passing
safely down the Merritt Parkway toward Bridgeport. Halfway down the
leeward leg, remarkably, the
squall doubled back, dumped 30 knots and hail on us, and blasted
everybody
right back to Smith Reef as they struggled to douse their ruined sails.
In order to capture on tape the sounds of a
precise, disciplined crew in the middle of a yacht race, we had miked
Margo and
Bruce Kirby. Most of the words that were
audible over the sound of cracking yarn-tempered cloth were too loud and
disorderly to be much use except as entertainment.
A few months later, when I felt I could safely return to
Noroton, we videotaped a Sunday afternoon race on a better day. In editing the footage, we took the
highlights of the twice-around course, sailed in optimum conditions and with
wonderful sportsmanship, to create a thrilling 15 minute race that, I think, is
not only the ideal but the reality of this splendid corner of the world.
By Chris Wilson
I surfed into the Junior Sailing Program on the crest of the
baby boom, and as a result there were 13, count ‘em, 13 boys all born in
the same year who all had boats (affluent bunch that we were). It was competitive: getting someone to crew for you was like
waiting in line at the DMV to get your license renewed. The best days were when we put the rivalries
aside, went out among ourselves, “tuning up” our blue jays, often
single-handed, leaning out into our hiking straps in the last afternoon
sunlight. To this day, my pin number at
work has always been my old Bluejay’s sail number. Or there were the days when Steve Bachman
tied us to the mast of Bob Smith’s P-Cat, beat-up lifejackets over our heads,
and we stormed out into an impossible Easterly. Or later, with Ti Hack as ballast for borrowed Finns.
Probably my best memories aren’t from racing at all, but
from that long-gone institution, the “long tow” to Larchmont or Manhasset Bay
or Pequot. We’d hunker down for the
three, four, six hour trip, plan elaborate lunches, sneak into each other’s
boats, launch water balloons.
We always seemed on the edge of adventure: once coming back from Pequot our tow was
hit by a squall. The Marshall twins’
blue jay capsized, and the mast broke when Rich Sharpe
tried to (as you had to then) “quick tow” the boat to empty the water out. We all shivered as the line of boats drifted around,
tangled up, rocked in the waves, before the Committee Boat started pulling us
all (Marshalls included) again. But
mostly I remember that when we got back to Noroton, Rick assembled us all in
the “Scuttlebutt,” and thanked us for hanging in. Now there was an instructor.
By Jim Linville and Tom Ettinger
The clubhouse (which was rebuilt in 1990 as the sills were
found to be 6” below grade) is now a showcase for the Hooker table. This
table was constructed from the cedar siding that was from the original Noroton
Yacht Club. These boards were 6” wide
and 1” thick. The cedar planking used for the table is a soft wood and somewhat
fragile, however it is resistant to pests and infestations. Cedar was often used as planking in boats as
it offered resilience to the elements and seas. Its durability made it adaptable to boat building as well as its soft
texture and lightweight qualities. In addition, it is used in musical
instruments, decking, and fencing: it has good finishing qualities.
Club members George Hooker and Bud Corning saw all this
cedar being discarded and asked if they could have some of it. They took the
lumber up to George’s workshop. George,
who had been doing furniture refinishing for a local antique dealer, set to work and when the club
was commissioned the next spring, George presented the club with this
table. For 15 years this table lived in
the lower living room of the clubhouse as a jack of all trade. One week it was a display for hats and belts
for sale, and another it proudly displayed food and drinks whatever event was
being held at the club.
Many of the items
from the old clubhouse never fit in with the limited space and brighter
new
clubhouse. Long gone are the massive
wrought iron chandeliers which hung in the upper living room, and the
intricately carved knee braces from the World’s Fair that adorned
pillars on
the terrace. On the other hand, the
wonderful Noroton Yacht Club sign that for many years hung over the
breezeway
welcoming members and guests now is welcoming people as they climb up
the front
stairs to the new clubhouse. The ship’s
wheel which once was a star trophy in the 1930s and hung over the
fireplace in the
upper living room is now in the hallway between the Men’s and Women’s
room. The lantern that once shone over the
Noroton Yacht Club sign is now presiding over the grass terrace. And
most of all the Hooker Table, a beautiful
reminder of everything that is important at Noroton - history and
volunteering - stands proudly welcoming one and all to our new clubhouse.
It is a reproduction of a shaker trestle table. It is a two-pedestal table with a stretcher
running between the legs to hold them in place. The stretch extends through the legs at each end with a wooden wedge
passing through the stretcher to add stability to the table.
Due to the softness of the cedar used in the table has been restored
several times. The original burgee has
been replaced with a burgee made from Birdseye maple and the chevrons of quilted
mahogany.
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