Back from the British West Indies…that will be another story…later, but it reminded of this one.

I can’t make this shit up. The only thing Yabu and I thought about for a long time…was the good thing.

This incident damn near got us killed.

We both were/are sailboat racers. Getting to the race, was more dangerous than the race itself, and I’ll tell you…I’ve never gotten off a sailboat without drawing blood. In a blow, a sailboat is dangerous.

Anyway:

We had a regatta scheduled on Lake Barkley / Kentucky Lake (which some say is the best sailing between the Great Lakes and the Gulf)…if the wind is right, you can do a broad reach all day long. Trust me, broad reaches are cool…especially if you have a Blooper to ease out the Tri-Radial. We did.

The boat was on Old Hickory Lake in Tennessee…we were going to lock through the dam to the Cumberland River, and do a two and a half day stinkpot, and lock through, to the sailing grounds. Me, Yabu, and a couple of chicks were to have a nice ride…plenty of food and drink…just an overall good time…two and a half day ride…no problem.

Yabu was all into the math…we had accurate charts…he had an old Casio personal assistant calculator…and he was plotting time to waypoints, and actually, he was pretty much right on. No GPS back then. Speed and distance is all you really need to predict when you get to point B from point A…whatever.

It was getting late in the day, so we decided to anchor in the lee of a small island in the middle of the river. We secured the boat, fired up the grill which hung over the port rail…got drunk…told some lies…had a great meal, and went to bed. A storm moved in.

About two o’clock in the morning we all heard a loud…I mean a really loud “snap”…sounded like a fucking bullwhip crack. The anchor line had snapped and we were drifting, and it was raining like a motherfucker. The next thing we heard was a fucking bull / fog horn. We’d drifted into the channel, and there was a huge ass barge coming right at us. No way it could stop or change course. It had all of it’s lights on us. I grab the girls…Yabu breaks for the motor. It was a 30 foot Wavelength built for racing, so it had an outboard to maneuver…so you could leave it on shore when you got to racing…saves weight. Yabu was pulling that starter rope like there was no tomorrow…damn motor wouldn’t start. I got the life preservers out and told the girls we might have to jump…fast. I also told ‘em not to put it on right away…we’d have to swim as fast and hard as we could…just hang on to until we clear the barge, and then put it on. I’m telling you, my ass was tight. Everyone was bout drunk and damn near naked…barge about to cream us…raining like hell, and we were about to jump off a sailboat in the fucking middle of a river.

Yabu finally started the damn motor and floored it out of the path of the barge, for shore. That motor starting was a good sound…real good sound…we didn’t have to abandon the Voodoo Too. Triple o’s are supposed to bring good luck…works for me, at least that time.

Since we had no anchor, we needed a place to tie up. Remember, it was dark and raining like hell…but the barge didn’t hit us. I will say, our girls were showing a little emotion…like scared as hell.

About a quarter mile down the river we found an old dilapidated overgrown out-of-business catfish joint that still had somewhat of a dock. We tied up there and got a couple hours sleep. We awoke to the barking of dogs. We went above into the cockpit to find a pack of wild dogs trying to jump onto the fucking boat. Right on the rail. I mean wild dogs…probably rabid or worse. No way we could get off the boat to untie the lines…no way. Yabu had thought to pack his 30-30, and the girls knew it. My girl had had enough…she was scared, and I don’t blame her. She went below…grabbed that fucking gun…climbed back in to the cockpit, and shot one from 10 feet…shot another one from a little further, and then shot it again. The rest of the dogs broke for cover, I untied the boat, and we were on our way. I do not hang with stupid women.

What a morning…we popped some beers, and made bacon and eggs…on the go. My girl just killed two dogs, and she was hungry. My kind of woman.

Hell of a first 24 hours.

We locked through to the lakes, and the wind was perfect. A Broad Reach. Set the Spinnaker and the Blooper and basically sailed the same course all day. Our ride was waiting for us late that afternoon when we arrived, and we drove a couple of hours home. The race wasn’t until the next weekend.

We had a crew of seven, but the girls said there was no way they weren’t going to do it with us after that lovely trip. They were in. No way to deny that. Come on in, the water is fine. Nine people…more weight…no problem.

Dawn…Race Day:

Raining…blowing steady 25-30 knots…gusting 40-50 knots. Damn…those gusts will fuck you up.

We damn near nailed the committee boat at the start…that was exciting, to say the least…seeing all those people running for the other side of the boat was hilarious, but we didn’t hit it. It was real close, but we did not make contact. Yabu, the boys and I had been racing on the same crew for years, so I guess the rest of this story is about Precious and Grace. That’s what Yabu and I called them after they started shooting dogs. Named ‘em after a ZZ-Top song. Thees girls wanted to piss with the big dogs, and we let ‘em. No problem. We’re beating to weather with a reefed main and a storm jib up…had the boat tuned…Precious and Grace wanted to get in the game. We wanted them to get in the game…cool chicks. You have to walk like a cat to be a foredeck monkey, and Grace had to show her balls. She is stable on a major pitching foredeck, with the original foredeck monkey when we approach the first windward mark…setting a spinnaker is difficult in calm weather, but when it’s blowing the squirrels out of the trees, it is a different ballgame altogether. She got caught up in a running Guy sheet and suffered major rope burn to her neck. Out of action. Same leg…we got a little too aggressive and broached the damn boat…out of instinct…Precious raised her arm when the boom came across…broke it…her arm that is. Out of action. The girls were down below in pain. I’m not belittling them at all…they went for it, but it was blowing pretty good…I give ‘em an A fucking plus.

We got some silver…finished third…and yes, I was bleeding.

As for Precious and Grace…we’re all still good friends to this day, and they never fail to bring up this story. They lie though.

Anyway, I do loves me a cool woman with some nuts.

Bottom line: Any woman who will shoot anything so she can do her business…is Okay by me.

If you want to hear some more Yabu stories…let me know…I can and will dog him.

Later!