seeing a ghost
There was a regatta going on down the street, the National Championship of the International 110 class. I was part of the group for 25 years up until I sold my boat to help pay for the Tour de France Challenge. During that quarter century I progressed from the worst sailor in the fleet to a competent competitor, an officer in the class, and the newsletter editor, which may be the hottest section of hell as you can’t fake that one.
To visit one’s past is an odd experience, as unpleasant for the participant as it is for those who are still presently involved. Half the people didn’t recognize me, and those who did wanted me back in the fleet to put another boat on the line. For the most part, the competitive people just wanted revenge. “Hah, I beat you!!!”
The old archrival Russell made an appearance and it looks like he has sold his boat after all these years. According to St. Patrick of Park City, Utah, who lives the life of a true Spartan, we tend to keep things around long after they have outlived their usefulness. I reckon Russell’s boat sat for more years than it sailed, but there was so much of his life tied up in it, I don’t think he could part with it easily.
I know how the sailors who are still in the fleet feel. Back when I was campaigning my International 110 actively, I recalled what it felt like to have someone come to the regatta who hadn’t sailed in a long time. I wanted all the ghosts out there on the line with me, because my moment of supreme glory had finally arrived.
What I would’ve given to administer a beating to the likes of Brad White or Jack Slattery or Billy Higgins or Paul Holleran when I was in my prime and they were in their decline.
Jack Slattery hasn’t sailed an International 110 in more than 20 years, but the faithful still hope that some day, he will return. Jumpin’ Jack Flash is gone and he’ll never be back but the dream is a powerful one.
To visit one’s past is an odd experience, as unpleasant for the participant as it is for those who are still presently involved. Half the people didn’t recognize me, and those who did wanted me back in the fleet to put another boat on the line. For the most part, the competitive people just wanted revenge. “Hah, I beat you!!!”
The old archrival Russell made an appearance and it looks like he has sold his boat after all these years. According to St. Patrick of Park City, Utah, who lives the life of a true Spartan, we tend to keep things around long after they have outlived their usefulness. I reckon Russell’s boat sat for more years than it sailed, but there was so much of his life tied up in it, I don’t think he could part with it easily.
I know how the sailors who are still in the fleet feel. Back when I was campaigning my International 110 actively, I recalled what it felt like to have someone come to the regatta who hadn’t sailed in a long time. I wanted all the ghosts out there on the line with me, because my moment of supreme glory had finally arrived.
What I would’ve given to administer a beating to the likes of Brad White or Jack Slattery or Billy Higgins or Paul Holleran when I was in my prime and they were in their decline.
Jack Slattery hasn’t sailed an International 110 in more than 20 years, but the faithful still hope that some day, he will return. Jumpin’ Jack Flash is gone and he’ll never be back but the dream is a powerful one.
posted by joe berkeley at 6:30 AM
3 Comments:
Reading your article, Joe, I am not sure if you are taking a swing at Josh and me or not. I am not sure where your bad vibe came from but I was excited to see you there because you are a great guy and I want you on the line because you are a great competitor. I enjoy sailing against and spending time afterwards with the likes of Joe Berkeley. Maybe you can accept the fact that you left a good impression on a class who is enthusiastic about promoting it and having good people in it.
That said, it was good to see you a few weeks ago. I hope that all is well and that we can catch up again soon, 110 regatta or not.
Jumping Jack Lives.
Joe,
I just stumbled upon your blog, almost a year old now. I really enjoyed reading your comments.
Looking back, those were some good times. I enjoyed crewing for you, growing up in the fleet, then racing against you. There was a time when Leigh Markey and I were so stoked to make it to Bay City. Sixth place and we were on top of the world. Blood, sweat, tears, and thirteen years later; Mark and I won our first National Championship. Now second place just does not seem good enough. Funny how that works.
People come and go in the fleet. I wish we had another chance to get a piece of Joe B. Some folks may not be sailing 110s anymore, but they are still sailing.
I have raced against Jack Slattery a couple of times this year. We sailed against him at The Rolex in St. Thomas, the NYYC Annual Regatta, Marblehead to Halifax, and Swan 42 Nationals. People are sailing in other fleets with greater numbers. None of these regattas came close to the fierce competition of a 110 event.
I wish I took a picture at the St. Thomas Yacht Club this year. Standing with Mark VanNote, Anthony Kouton, Jack Slattery... all 110 National Champions.
I guess what I am trying to say is that you are immortalized in our fleet, a legend. We were talking about you racing with Dr. Epstein in Newport winning the Atlantic's a couple of years ago. Whenever we see you in Hull, it is a happy moment. We all wish you were out there racing with us.
It would be great to have one regatta where Mike Blanchard, Jack Slattery, Joe Berkely, Russel Robinson, and other lost legends return for one final standoff.
I think we should make that happen.
Cheers,
Josh Hill
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