The Boat Race

AOL Instant Messenger:
Aunt Sarah (8:51:41): how are you?
Me (8:51:49): great… i'm getting ready to go sailing now
Aunt Sarah (8:52:10): how’s the weather?
Me (8:52:29): it's nice, it'll be prefect for racing with them
Aunt Sarah (8:52:38): wait… you’re going on a boat that is racing?
Me (8:52:42): haha... yep!
Aunt Sarah (8:52:43): YEE HAH!

I couldn’t have put it better myself…


* * *



St. Tropez is a city that sleeps in. Throughout town, hardly anyone stirs earlier than 10. Yes, the fishermen go out at the crack of dawn. Sure, some people will visit the market early two days a week. But, as so many other early days, when I drove through the cobblestone streets of St. Tropez at 9:30 this morning, it felt as though I was the only one awake.


I met Fred for a coffee along the port and he clued me in. Turns out – as usual – much of my information was incorrect. The boat I’d be racing on is Joyant, a 59-foot classic sailing boat. She is owned by Robert McNeil, a wealthy business man with a passion for sailing. She’s a Herreshoff design, which meant nothing to me prior to today, but what it basically means is that this is a famous boat – museum worthy even – in the same design as Mariette, the large, blue Google boat. The sheer extent of this extraordinary opportunity became clear to me as we chatted over espresso. This is what little boys dream of – as well as grown men in boat building or the nautical industry at all. Tony was going to hate me.


Regardless, we met up with the rest of the crew – owner Bob McNeil included - and took a tender all the way to Cogolin where Joyant was docked. I, being nearly entirely ignorant about boats, didn’t know how to thank them. So I brought them two bottles of Club Edna champagne. (They were thrilled – but left if off the boat to keep weight down. We’ll drink it tomorrow night when these guys come over for dinner!) Joyant was restored exactly according to the 1912 plans, so there is no engine within its tiny hull. We were instead towed out to the starting line where the men put the boat together, heaving sails and uncoiling ropes. It was fascinating to watch, curled up on the edge of the wooden classic, bare feet nearly dipping toes in the water. Then, in the faint distance, a gun shot, smoke.


It was a tight race. I slid like a seal across the hull, ducking the ridiculously low bow, trying not to get in the way as we tacked. I shifted my weight accordingly to balance the boat and make the most of the ever-changing wind. It was fantastic, exhilarating. Merilee, who has come in second behind Joyant every other race this week, was only real our competition. (Isn’t it awesome that not only do I get to see the races from the water, not only do I get to even participate in them, but I even get to be on the winning boat? Haha!) We had a rough start – confusion, fumbling, delayed. Things went wrong; the jib didn’t go up as smoothly as hoped, a sail fell in the water and was caught underneath the boat. Just behind Merilee, we watched her carefully, strategically planning how to take her lead. And we did. (When I say “we” I’d like to emphasize that I was doing by duty by hiding underneath the boat at this point… But don’t worry – it didn’t last long. I was actually on the tiny deck rolling around with the crew for most of the race!) Joyant’s crew is far better at coming about, working as a team to switch sails and gain speed. We had a fairly solid lead until the end of Pamplonne (which is where, incidentally, I looked up from the deck and saw Chez Michel glistening orange by the lighthouse, behind the boats with whom we raced!) when she suddenly caught a breeze we could not find. There she was, right on our tail, switching from side to side trying to take her lead back. But we wouldn’t relent.


At the end we took a gamble. Unfortunately, Merilee caught the better side of that risk and one the race by less than 2 boats lengths. It was disappointing, but the crew still won every other day and therefore the overall prize. Yea guys!

We joked that we lost because I was on board and it’s bad luck to bring women on board (haven’t you seen Pirates of the Caribbean?). And actually – women were the theme of the day. Joyant has been followed all week by a very sweet film crew determined to make a new and improved documentary on Herreshoff designs. The question of the day, asked to each member of the crew, was “In your opinion, why are boats so often compared to women? They’re always called “she” and looked after like a lady.” The crews’ answers – albeit hilarious at times – were simply not what Terry (the director) was looking for. “Ok,” she whispered to her camera man while I coiled some rope (do you even know how hard & heavy it is to coil rope?!), “let’s ask her.” Being the only other female around, I knew who was going to face the camera next. But as Terry placed her long, cold fingers on my shoulder and introduced herself, I was caught completely by surprise. The camera was already on me, rolling and – voila. I knew I got my B.S. in BS for a reason: I’m damn good at it.


When I finished my line (you’ll have to keep surfing the History & Discovery channels to see it yourself) she was speechless. I looked into the lens of the camera and laughed. “You did it!” Not that I had any idea how or what I did, but I knew it was good from the hug she gave me. She hollered to the boys, “Catherine gave the best answer! She gets the prize for the day!” Unfortunately, she was speaking metaphorically and there was no price. Haha, I tease!


I loved that they had me do things to. I was terrified at first; I didn’t want to be the reason they lose. But they had me hold ropes, help take down and tie up sails, squirm into the tiny spots where the old men couldn’t make it! Haha, it was great. And they all said – sincerely – that I did a really great job.


The sights I saw out there were amazing. My house, this lovely statue of a woman on the rocks that you can see from Chez Michel, the myriad of sailboats, St. Tropez as the backdrop of a fantastic regatta. I turned to Adam, a (very handsome sailor – college graduate and basically assistant curator of the Herreshoff Museum who sails simply for fun – and travel) and said, “Honestly, I think this is the coolest thing I’ve ever done.” And then, of course, I laughed at how stupid that sounds.

But he laughed with me. Pulled tighter on the rope he was gripping, adjusting the sails about us. “You know Catherine,” he smiled, “I think this is the coolest thing I’ve ever done.” He’s been on boats all his life – but this was his first Voile de St. Tropez. As the crew would describe this week later – it was extravagant. Glorious. Unreal.


All I can say is thank God I have a friend like Tony who – aside from being a genuinely sweet guy – has taught me enough about boats this summer that I could keep up with conversation. And combined with my experience today; hell, I’m practically a pro! ; ) hahahha


We had such a great day that they invited me to the awards ceremony and then out to dinner. It was fantastic. These guys – everything from lawyers to investment bankers to book editors – are just a bunch of Republicans who love to sail and have an intense passion for true boats. Like Joyant, Bob’s “toy.” We chatted about politics and philosophy, regattas and work. They’re the kind of people I love to be around. Not to mention most of them are from Rhode Island and Boston so to hear their accents, accents that are so familiar to me, so far from home… it was just lovely. So I invited them over to dinner tomorrow (Sunday) night. Don’t ask me what I’m going to cook. There’s nothing in the house. Hopefully the grocery store will be open…

I realize that no matter how much I write, I can’t do this experience justice. All I can say is that there is no better way to end this six-month adventure. It really was amazing.

And, like yesterday, I am the personification of excitement and happiness. This, like yesterday, was a perfect day.

Now I am going to cuddle upstairs with my floppy white puppy and sweetly dream about going home… something I’m suddenly very ready to do.