Ocean Race - Ponce Inlet to St. Augustine

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The wind was just a whisper from the South. Twenty two sail boats had been drifting, barely able to avoid coliding with each other, waiting for enough wind to start the race. As the sun neared the western horizon, the boats were able to leave ripples in the slightly rolling swell just off-shore Ponce Inlet. As the start gun went off, 'Misty', my 36 ft. Gulfstar was having problems crossing the start line. As soon as we were clear of the pack of boats, barely under control, we hoisted the spinnaker. It slowly filled providing enough pressure to get 'Misty', a rather heavy cruising boat moving towards the finish line fifty four miles to the north at the St. Augustine sea bouy. We were racing against ten boats in the spinnaker fleet, most of them built for racing with high tech sails and seasoned crews.

A year earlier, 'Misty' had sailed the same race in the non-spinnaker division and had come in, not only first in her division, but first overall with the PHRF correction. I knew that the race was as much strategy as speed, and I was committed to the same strategy that I had used the previous year. With the wind from the South, most of the boats would sail directly toward the finish line. I expected a southerly current and I knew from experience that it would be stronger near the shore, so I headed gradually out to sea, taking a more circuitous rout.

As the sun begain to set, the wind picked up to about seven knots. When we were about five miles off-shore, we turned toward the finish. What a beautiful night for a sail. The moonless sky was full of stars and a shooting star streaked across the northern horizon. We worked at keeping 'Misty' moving fast and tried our best to pick out the running lights of the boats in-shore of us. Early on it seemed that we must be doing well.

In the light air, it was a long race. We crossed the finish line about four in the morning. We knew that we had not won, because 'Obsession' had radioed his finish time well ahead of us. As far as we could tell, no other boat had finished. In the dark, it was impossible to tell. We would have to wait for the official results. At the awards dinner that night, my crew and I were delighted to receive the trophy for second place in the spinnaker division.

Racing in light air is always intense, and we had a great time, but returning home turned out to provide the real exitement of the trip. As we sailed and motor sailed south, leaving early in the morning, thunder showers seemed to drift by us just over the coast. We managed to get to about ten miles north of Ponce Inlet before we finally got clobbered. We were sailing down wind in a moderate breeze trolling a fishing line, when we got a strike. I turned 'Misty' back into the wind to let my crewman reel in a ten pound bonita, quite a thrill for him. As he was fighting the fish, I noticed a very dark storm heading streight for us. As soon as we could return the bonita to the sea, we ran before the now gusty wind until it was obious that we would not escape. We rolled up the Genoa and dropped the main and cranked the engine. Almost immediately, the wind increased to fifty knots and rain was almost solid. The lightning was all around us. Within a few minutes, the breaking seas built to eight feet. 'Misty' did not seem to mind at all. We idled the engine and sailed on bare poles surfing down the breaking seas, but the lightning was frightning. The worst of the storm passed in time for us to duck into Ponce Inlet, and the sun came back out as we motored down the ICW. A fitting climax to a fun weekend.

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