Jack-A-Roe heading North with Chicago in the distance, Saturday (A. Krawarik).
Jack-A-Roe heading North with Chicago in the distance, Saturday (A. Krawarik).
Like any good adventure story, the telling of the 2003 Chicago-Mackinac is not an easy thing. Over the period of five days, two rousing parties, 300 nautical miles sailed, and new friends met there is much to tell.
My involvement in the 2003 Chicago-Mackinac race can almost be singly attributed to my friend Dan Jordan, who called me in June wondering if I was interested in crewing on a boat for the race. He lived in Chicago, and my adventure-sensor's fired as he discribed the race. So I said sure, as long as he was looking, count me in! A week later I heard back from him - he had had no luck. My curiosity got the better of me, though, and I resolved to work on a crew spot for the Mac race on my own. However, my experiences with the Vic-Maui race and crewing on White Cloud made me believe that really the only way to get on a boat you don't know is to call the skipper cold, and plead for a spot. Because I am an Olson skipper, it seemed like the logical place to start. I knew some sailed the Great Lakes region, so I checked the race results for the last several years, and found one Olson 30 that raced the Mac every year. Jack-A-Roe.
There was a wealthy merchant, in London he did dwell
He had a beautiful daughter, the truth to you we'll tell
Oh the truth to you we'll tell
I flew into Midway with Dave Garman, my friend and skipper of the local SC27 Giant Slayer, at Friday noon. At the baggage claim we met another arriving crewperson, Aken, who was flying in from the Southeast for the race. Up until this point Dave and I had made almost all our arrangements through email, so talking with Aken on the curb while waiting for the boat's owner and skipper, John Dybas, to show up let us ask some of the questions we had not gotten around to asking yet.
Downtown Chicago from the top of the mast, Friday (A. Krawarik).
The rest of the day was spent doing all the typical boat things one does the day before a big race. The boat was ready, but there were alot of little things that still needed to be done. Halyards replaced, VHF antenna affixed atop the mast, food loaded, gear stowed, and so on. So we all spent the afternoon down at the marina, doing odd jobs and hanging out, waiting for the Chicago Yacht Club rum party to start.
She had sweethearts a plenty, and men of high degree
But none but Jack the sailor, her true love ever be
Oh her true love ever be
The party started in the early evening, and we drifted over from where Jack-A-Roe was berthed at Columbia. People grumbled about the high cost of the booze, drank some more, and were generally bored with the party. Despite the noise, this was the first real chance we got to mesh and hang out with the crew, since everyone had been running errands all afternoon. Rick Bak is a character with an impish grin who holds some current record for a high speed police chase on a motorcycle and actually living to tell the tale. Jeff workes in the IT industry and recently decided to move to Moscow for a year to teach English and do something new. Aken recently moved to the Southeast after living in Chicago for some time, is an avid sailor and works in the looney bin. And John Dybas and Bev Mohr are full-time crazy people, revelling in their Olson 30 while surrounded by a fleet of Tartan 10s and J105s.
Not much can really be said about this party, except that I didn't drink anything and got hungrier and hungrier as the hours went by. Dave drank too much, and got picked up by two equally tipsy women who dragged him on and off the dance floor with some regularity. The band got better as the night progressed, but it was a constant battle between trying to figure out where I could get something to eat, and staying to listen to the band and laugh at Dave and Rick as they danced with the girls. Finally, about 11:30, the hunger won out and I went into downtown Chicago looking for food. Only 4 blocks from the CYC, I found Millers, which serves a full menu until 2am. Perfect. After a sizable meal, I drifted back to the party, but it was shutting down.
Dave and I were supposed to have stayed with Rick, but the last I saw him he was trying unsuccessfully to escape the dance floor, so now I had no idea where he went. That didnt bother me, I headed back to the boat. There I found Dave, sleeping in the cockpit of the Olson, and I went below, found a spinnaker to sleep on, and drifted off to sleep, remembering the pile of sails that had been my bunk for Vic-Maui.
Jackie's gone a sailing, with trouble on his mind
He's left his native country and his darling girl behind
Oh his darling girl behind
Saturday I was up pretty early, and managed to get Dave up out of bed despite his hangover and the early hour. We strolled off to breakfast, a small cafe next to Millers I had espied the night before. Then back to the boat to finish the errands, including a run to West Marine for some special screws, a run to Home Depot for the right screwdriver, and so on. Before long, it was time to throw the stuff on board and start thinking about the starting line.
Dave Garman and Aken load gear onto Jack-A-Roe (R. Bak).
Jack-A-Roe is an Olson configured for distance racing. It sports an inboard powered by a lawnmower engine, because the waves and chop on Lake Michigan make using an outboard difficult. As we motored to the start line, I was amazed at the color of the water. It was not blue like Hawaii or dark like my home waters in Puget Sound, this was like a glacial lake, almost green. The starting sequence for the Mac race is a 10 minute sequence, and we needed every second to get up to the starting area in the light breeze that was blowing. Although we were a little late for our start, we were higher than the rest of the fleet and in the clear air did very well.
"The Mac is a 200 mile delivery, followed by a 100 mile race."
She went down to a tailor shop and dressed in man's array
She climbed on board a vessel to convey herself away
Oh convey herself away
The first hours were a beat to a tight reach in very light winds, typical of this area. Some boats tried to fly their spinnakers, but many stayed with the genoa. The hours dragged on, and the Lake was very calm, with flat water, very atypical of the area! But it was sunny and warm, with the great backdrop of Chicago in the distance. We slowly made our way along the rhumb line North.
John Dybas drive Jack-A-Roe at the start of the Chicago-Mackinac race (R. Bak).
Day turned to evening, evening turned to night, and the first night aboard JAck-A-Roe saw us sailing right of the rhumb line trying to make the best VMG possible in the light air. The clear conditions and full moon made it a beautiful, but very chilly, night. Watch changes happened smoothly and every so often we would pass someone as we ghosted along at 3-5 knots.
Before you get on board sir, your name we'd like to know
She smiled on her countenance, they called her Jack-A-Roe
Oh they called her Jack-A-Roe
Sunday dawned as beautiful as Saturday, but the going was still a plod in the very light conditions. Although we never actually stopped, we patched together some boatspeed as best as we could and worked just left of the rhumb line. We ghosted along in the morning, slowly passing boats as Olsons are capable of doing in the lightest airs, and creeping up on the yacht Decoy. In hindsight I don't think we were aggressive enough in driving hot angles to get that extra tenth of VMG, but light air work can be maddening and so you have to pace yourself, especially if you are going to be doing this type of thing for 50-70 hours!
It was on Sunday mid-morning that Dave discovered the crack in the boom. A crack had started where the vang connected to the boom section, and we watched it furtively. After a few hours, it was noticably larger, and we decided that breaking the boom would suck, especially if the wind ever did fill in. So Jeff and I lashed the spare tiller, which was the only thing on the boat available for a splice, to the boom, and the crack stopped expanding for a time.
Jeff and Alex splint the boom with the spare tiller (R. Bak).
The day became hotter, but in the afternoon the pace picked up a bit and we found ourselves closer to the Michigan shore. Just before dark, a large ferry passed ahead of us, heading accross the lake. It was the same kind of ferry as the Blackball from Port Angeles to Victoria B.C., and it was some of the only comercial traffic we saw the entire race. As evening fell, we watched the boats further in get shut down in the lighter air near shore, so we gybed out a few miles along with Decoy, now only 200 feet ahead, and stayed further out. That night the wind slowly built. For a while we were sailing along in dead flat water at around 6 knots on a perfect reach, the helm balanced so that no steering was required. I drove until around midnight, when some other guys came up for the late shift. I am a terrible night person, I always fade by 1am. While at sea, I don't need 8 hours of sleep but have found that if I get up at a normal waking hour, I last about 20-24 hours before complete system shutdown! During the early morning, the wind built to a nice solid 20 knots for a while, and we rocketed along. These are the conditions the boat is built for!
I see your waist is slender, your fingers they are small
Your cheeks too red and rosy to face the cannonball
Oh to face the cannonball
There was a change in the air on Monday. Monday morning brought us to the first real mark of the race, the Manitous. John maintains that the Mac race is a 200 mile delivery to the Manitous, where the fleet always converges and you get a sense for how well you are placing by listening to the check-in calls to the committee boat, a Coast Guard cutter. The Manitous are the 2/3-way point..200 miles of large, mostly featureless lake lays behind you, and there are 100 miles of very featured coast to go. From here on, the race gets very interesting. Because you are nearer to shore and you can see your progress, because you are nearer to the fleet and can see their progress, because the wind is always better on the North end of the lake, and because the passage through Greys Reef and the Straits of Mackinac are so exciting! And because we were passing the Manitous at dawn, it meant we had a reasonable chance of finishing the race in daylight.
Finishing in daylight was a prize. It meant you could tie up the boat easily, go out to eat, get a drink, and all those other things that just don't happen when you pull into port at 2am. True, sailing under the Mackinac Bridge at night is awe-inspiring, but a fast passage is nice. John and crew have sailed this race 6 times now, and have only finished in daylight a few times. Certainly, with Jack-A-Roe on pace to finish the race inside of 50 hours, this was one of the faster Macs the boat had sailed.
The weather was certainly a little different. Even though it was still a very hot and very sunny day, the wind was now a steady 12-18 from the SSW, with no real signs of letting up. For most of the time it blew around 12, which was just barely enough to keep good boatspeed with the waves, but every few hours it would pipe up to 20 and the boat would surf the waves! There were very few flies, which suprised all the race veterans. Usually the flies just eat you alive.
Bak flies the spin while Aken drives, and Jeff zones (A. Krawarik).
All the way from the Manitous we dueled with the same pack of boats, which included the lead Tartan 10s and many Section 7 and 8 boats. We overtook then stayed with the J29 for a while, until we broke away from them by sailing deeper. A Tartan 10 slowly overtook us, then fell behind again on an unfavored gybe. We caught, passed, then were caught by a Beneteau 36.7, a boat in our section. And all the while the tantilizing green spinnaker of the J110 was on the horizon. John was excited, because we were actually keeping up with some well sailed boats. The fact that we could see the green spinnaker of the J110 on the final day meant we had a very good chance of beating them. We had been with them since last night, as we dueled with Decoy. They had not gained any ground.
I know my waist's too slender, my fingers they are small
but it would not make me tremble to see ten thousand fall
Oh to see ten thousand fall
The wind slowly built and clocked all Monday afternoon, and we sailed around 8-10 knots anytime it blew above 16. We rapidly approached Grey's Reef, which is really a fantastic passage along several lighthouses. However, we knew we might be unable to carry the spinnaker through the reef and we cautiously approached the 2 mile run through the reef trying to see whether we would be able to carry the spin on a true beam reach. Many other boats, including Decoy just a few hundred yards ahead, were heeling mightily and we were much lighter. For a lighter displacment boat like Jack-A-Roe it was almost a foregone conclusion that we wouldnt be able to do it, so we brought the #2 up on deck. At the last minute we did a bareheaded douse and put up the #2 genoa. A N/M 36 that we had passed and that was sailing on our quarter was mightly surprised when I rounded up into the wind to put up the genoa, but they were in no danger and did not need to alter course.
We carried the #2 most of the way through the passage, and the wind began to moderate and move aft, so before we gybed for the Mackinac bridge gleaming in the distance, we hoisted the chute again. The Beneteau 36.7 that we had dueled with all day, Karma (Bad Karma), finally passed us here through the reef, able to keep the boat on its feet with the spin up long enough to surf on by below us. Took them long enough!! But with our spinnaker back up, we promptly reeled the N/M 36 back in. After a gybe that could have ended in disaster, but didnt because we had seen the other boats attempt to gybe before us and were ready, we made the final tight spinnaker reach to the bridge. Here the wind picked up again, and we hiked out to keep the boat on its feet while Dave Garman drove the last leg, trying to catch the Beneteau 36.7. They had slipped about 10 boatlengths ahead of us through the reef, and were now waterlining us to death. We couldn't surf here near the bridge, the size of the waves had subsided dramatically.
Jack-A-Roe power reaching under Mackinac bridge (A. Krawarik).
With plenty of daylight, we passed underneath the bridge and followed the protocol for checking in and finishing. We finished with a pack of boats that included Accord, the Beneteau 36.7 Karma, two Tartan 10s, and the N/M 36 Rush, who we ended up passing again a few miles before the finish line, surfing past them on their own wake. We tied up the boat, met Bev, got to the hotel room, and went to dinner. The race was over, we had placed mid-fleet, beating all the boats within sight including the J110, but a pack of Section 7 boats had finished a few hours earlier that would out-correct on time. Most importantly, we had beaten the friendly rivals, Assasin a Soveral 33, and some other boats that John Dybas races against in other PHRF races.
The war soon being over she went and looked around
among the dead and wounded her darling boy she found
Oh her darling boy she found
Main street on Mackinac island (A. Krawarik).
Tues dawned with showers and breakfast, and the war certainly was over. All the boats had finished by Monday night, and the town had been quiet while sailors got some much needed sleep, cleaned up the boats, and prepared for the drinking, cavorting, and whoring to come at the Rum Party, tues afternoon. The Jack-A-Roe crew spent the day bumbling around and wasting time, buying T-shirts and take-me-home knick-nacks, looking at pictures of the boat taken by the commercial race photography outfit, and so on.
Mackinac island marina (A. Krawarik).
The air of the whole thing was like a Swiftsure, without the fetters of being in a conservative and innocent Canadian town like Victoria. The fleet lay at anchor, an immense raft-up of boats in various states of organization, with most people enjoying the town. The marina is overlooked by a historic fort located on a commanding green hill, and the town itself is unique in that there is no motorized traffic permitted. Everything is on foot, or by horse-drawn buggy. Which is a good thing, considering the amount of alcohol consumed at the rum party!
The party is an all-you-can-drink affair, and kudos to the organizers for permitting people to take away as many drinks as they can hold after standing in line for ages, as no one in their right might would brave those lines twice! The favorite drink is "Rum and <xxx>", where the second ingredient is usually more rum. And so it was that the hale crew of the JAck-A-Roe, including your's truly the author, kicked back and drained the bottles dry. After the rum ran out, most people dispersed into town looking for more. Jeff, Dave, Bak and I found ourselves mingling with and boasting to the "Assasinators" the party-hardend crew of the Soveral 33 Assassin. I bought a double shot of tequila for Dave and myself, and down the gullet it went. Then Jeff bought another tequila for me, and I don't remember much after that. All a blur.
Alex Krawarik still aware, but incapacitated (R. Bak).
Somehow Dave got me back to the hotel room, where I remained, quite content in the fetal position, for about 6 hours. Dave and John and others went out for a nice quiet dinner. Finally at about 1am, people started drifting back looking to sleep off as much of the hangover as possible before the forced check-out from the hotel at 7am. The raft was breaking up tomorrow morning, and we were in the middle of it so had to be ready to move the boat. Not only that, but Dave, Jeff, and I had to be on a ferry back to the mainland at 9. Even so a pizza arrived, I sobered up and ate some, and it was only 3am when everyone retired, fully aware that the 4 hours of sleep wouldnt be enough.
She picked him up on in her arms and carried to the town
she sent for a physician to quickly heal his wounds
Oh to quickly heal his wounds
The wounds healed more slowly than anyone would have liked, so on Wed morning several of the crew who shall remain nameless were still not up to full speed. Bak and I in turn went down to the boat to make sure no one wanted us to move it, while everyone else packed and got ready to put stuff on the boat or take it back to Chicago in the ride that had been arranged for the boat gear. Bev, John, and Aken were going to deliver the boat back (broken boom and all) by water while Bak would drive the car the Bev drove up back to Chicago, along with some other passengers and lots of gear. Dave, Jeff, and I were to get on "the bus", a chartered bus for Mac sailors that returned direct to Chicago.
Things went smoothly, we got some breakfast, packed, said our goodbyes, and loaded first onto the ferry and then the bus. The bus ride itself was not uneventful, as the air conditioning broke and the hapless bus driver experienced his own mutiny at the hands of a number of Mac sailors who were not about to sit in a 120-degree bus for 3 hours.
"There's never been a fatality on the Mac race in all its history, but you're about to become the first one if you don't pull this damn bus over, buddy!"
The bus pulled over, everyone got out and streached their legs, got some much-needed air. The driver got the AC working again by poking around the HVAC electrical panel and so on, and the trip proceeded in a decidedly better mood. At the CYC, the bus deposited us and we said farewell to Jeff, who was moving to Moscow, Russia, in just a few weeks. Dave and I hopped in a cab, hopped on the El, then hopped on a plane and winged our way back to Seattle.
This couple they got married so well they did agree
This couple they got married so why not you and me?
Oh why not you and me?
Oh why not you and me?
There is no doubt that the Mac race is one of the true all-time classic races, and one of the best I have sailed. Not for the sailing, the scenery, or the destination, though all have their appeal. People sail the Mac race year after year because the distance is just right, the adventure is exceptional, the company excellent, and the experience worth it. As for the Olson 30, it suffers under the Americap II handicapping that the Mac race employs like all ULDBs, but is still a very well-suited boat to the race we sailed in 2003. John and his crew have taken great pains to make sure the boat is well-equipped for the race and can perform well, and his successively better finishes year after year bear out that hard work.