(Vancouver, BC)- With its lack of handicaps, lack of rules, and Wild
West attitude, on the surface it would seem the Race to Alaska is a
setup to disappoint just about everyone. If you’re focused only on the
capital “W” win, it’s a forgone conclusion that bankrolled teams of
sailors with better-than-Olympics credentials will grab the prize, grab
the glory, and leave the everyone else in the dust.
To the surprise of no one close to the race and paying attention, that
preconception is as true as it isn’t. While the only prizes were given
out some five days prior, recognition of the valor and dedication of
those who simply finish could be seen at the dock today as throngs of
teams who came before were on hand to welcome finishers.
Sometimes it’s about standing on the podium, most of the time it’s about
standing with yourself and the satisfaction you’ve done something
extraordinary— whether or not people applaud.
The two teams bookending today’s Ketchikan finish line embody the second
kind of accomplishment and seemingly represent a time-lapsed view of
Canadian lives well-sailed.
The “Teen Beat” sleeper cell sensation of Team McGuffin Brothers Racing
completed the course and earned the honor of being the collectively
youngest team to ever finish this thing. If only to revel in the
incredible, in a way they probably won’t, we’d like to point out that
the new bar for youngest team boasts an average age of 19.25 years!!
If Team Pitoraq’s victory was rooted in a lifetime culmination, Team
MBR’s landed solidly in the “Are you kidding me?” envy of a teenage rite
of passage, with everyone greeting them on the dock in Ketchikan
wishing they’d had the parents and the courage to have done this in
their day.
The cherub-cheeked, “aw shucks” everything of the three actual and one
honorary brothers won the day and the hearts of fellow racers and
Ketchikan fans who came down to welcome them.
To a person, the onlookers were in awe of a life path, so well started, and largely yet to come.
“This trip is something that the rest of us built towards, this is their baseline— imagine what else they’ll do.”
The crowd was as impressed as it was filled with questions, and the
brothers deferential answers were those of the humble, their sparse
words offered in the rare brand of taciturn that lies between shy and
polite. They hit the dock with uniformly bare feet and matching grey
sweaters with MBR patches hand sewn on the breast.
How did you pick your uniforms?
“Well, I like Stanfields, and Callum likes Stanfields so we thought they would be pretty good.”
How was the boat?
“Pretty good.” They had leaks from the forward hatch, main hatch,
lazarette hatch, the toe rail, and the mast boot. “Pretty much
everything leaked.” The only time they begrudgingly conceded things
might have been less than ideal were the times when they woke up for
watch in the 1am darkness and waded through the damp clothes they had
drying below. “There was a big wave, we had our hatch open, and we got
pretty wet I broke the leeboard and ended up in Duncan’s bunk, but other
than that, it was pretty good.”
What did you eat?
“Baked beans, chia pudding, and canned sprats.” Sprats, for the
un-indoctrinated are the tins of fish that they would crack open and
share for lunch, dinner and sometimes breakfast.
Three times a day and for eight days straight; unabashed, unresentful
and recounted with a smile. The tins were the gift of their grandfather
in Ottawa who bought them and sent them; apparently making the rounds
and clearing the shelves of Ottawa’s strategic reserve of tinned fish to
send his boys north. The fact that they were eating canned fish bought
in Canada’s inland capital 3,000 kilometers east, then sent to the heart
of it’s seafood industry was an irony that only occurred to them after
the question was posed.
They had food; they ate it gratefully, and had enough leftover that they
were planning to eat it for their return trip south. Sprats north,
sprats south, and on the way back they were going to meet up with their
grandfather, Granddad Sprats himself. There’d be plenty for him, too.
What did you miss?
“None of us drink coffee or beer, so we’re set on those.” They settled
on hamburgers, and after climbing the dock to the racer party they set
into a four identical plates of burgers and fries, appreciatively
consumed at a politely moderate pace.
What do they do for fun?
“Well, we mostly just sail.” They replied to the question of whether or
not it felt weird to be done, with the unintentional punch line, “Well,
we still have to go all the way back…”
They were planning on shore leave of no more than a day. They needed to
get back, so were going to limit their wild and crazy to picking up
their outboard, restocking some fresh food, and that’s exactly it.
Duncan was hoping to make it back in time for his last day of school,
the rest were going to get ready for their canoe trip down the Mackenzie
River.
For the teams that came before, and likely those to come, the finish
line is at least a reprieve and at most an ending. For Team MBR it was
the beginning of a “no-parents summer” that starts with R2AK and
culminates in a canoe trip to the Arctic Circle.
The trip to K-town wasn’t a hardship, it was fun; not the vice fueled
Spring Break binge of excess of their peers to the south. It was the
adventure version of a jigsaw puzzle and a cup-of-tea type enjoyable.
So, it was the trip back that couldn’t start soon enough. They had their
granddad’s sprats, the last thing they needed was to hang around on
shore and stress. Or, consume beer in order to cope with a hardship that
for them doesn’t even exist. They are the very definition of “Pretty
good.”
Whether you are more or less than their average of 19 years, imagine
where you would be after eight days and 700 miles of non-stop sailing?
Would you gloat in self-satisfaction? Would you crave the indulgences of
civilization, movies, girls, or at the very least a temporary antidote
to the banal inconveniences that brought you here: a dry bed, a hot
shower, a plated meal, ice cream—anything other than the steady state
diet of less sleep and more canned fish?
Would you offer a tinge of anything less that the honest and holistic optimism of “Pretty good?”
For the McGuffins, and to the envy of everyone, their answer was true.
They were pretty good, and their smiles were only rivaled by those on
the adults at the dock who had found in them the role models for youth
they were too late to follow.
They had just sailed to Alaska, alone and unassisted as young as 16, and
with as little as 6 months sailing experience. They weren’t
self-impressed or particularly jubilant, and it didn’t seem to dawn on
them to be as proud as everyone else was.
They were “pretty good,” but better than just about everybody.
McGuffin Brothers Racing finished 13th at a very convenient 7:21 PM on
June 14. And have the new record for Youngest Team at a combined age of
19.25 years old. They beat out the 2018 J/88 Team Blue Flash;
remarkably, their combined ages were 19.5 years old!
It’s blowing strong out of the north in Johnstone Strait, making it very
difficult for teams to get to the Queen Charlotte’s and beyond.
However, those teams already there are seeing some light winds mixed
with some real southerlies moving them quickly to their goal. Follow
TEAM MBR’s exploits on Instagram here and on
their Team MBR Facebook page here Here is
Team MBR’s website For more
R2AK sailing information and tracking information
(Riverside, CT)- The Riverside YC is hosting its 88th annual Stratford
Shoal Race this coming weekend on Long Island Sound. It is one more
easy-going offshore races of the summer on the Sound.
(Milwaukee, WI)- The 81st challenge of one of the most storied yacht
races on the Great Lakes this coming weekend- the Queen’s Cup. This
year’s night race across Lake Michigan departs from Milwaukee, WI for
St. Joseph, MI on June 28, 2019. Both Milwaukee’s South Shore Yacht Club
and St. Joseph River Yacht Club will provide an experience worthy of
this 81st Queen’s Cup Race.
First
prize- a cup valued at 100 guineas- was won by the English yacht Gaily,
six minutes and 38 seconds ahead of Silvie. This outstanding
performance led the squadron to award a special prize to her, a
50-guinea cup, now known as the Queen's Cup!
(Cowes, Isle of Wight, England)- If it's the first weekend in July, it
must be time for the world-famous “Round The Island Race” in the United
Kingdom, hosted by the Island Sailing Club in Cowes, Isle of Wight. The
challenging 60.0nm race that goes around the Isle of Wight is by far the
most popular race on any sailor’s social calendar all year long in the
U.K.; particularly for those that love to get thrashed and challenged by
the intricacies of the Solent.
(Block Island, RI)- One of the highlights of summer sailing in northeast
America is Storm Trysail Club’s bi-annual bacchanalian sailing festival
known as Block Island Race Week. Sailing from June 23rd to 29th,
thousands of sailors migrate to the beautiful island five miles offshore
of Rhode Island. It’s a bit of a pilgrimage for many sailors, some are
veterans of more than two dozen BIRW’s; it’s a time to reconnect with
old friends, a time to relax and socialize with hundreds of other
sailors, enjoy the camaraderie of a shared love for the water, for
sailing and for celebrations.
