The “GOOD ENTERTAINMENT“
30 foot Scarab Boating Newsletter
Season of 87
Well it's that
time again, when the huge majestic moving sculpture with unbroken spirit
becomes another frozen inanimate object covered with snow. Winter
hibernation has set in as the 70 MPH beast is decommissioned and covered up
sealing in all the elation of priceless memories from the summer past.
The day that I winterize
the boat I always seem to carry a guilty feeling, much like an owner putting
his faithful pet to sleep. It's hard to believe that another season has slipped
by again with the evening sounds of conversation and laughter coming from
all the harbors.
In general it was a very hot summer with some heat records being set.
August was also an all time record for the amount of rain that fell in any
August since weather records have been kept.
I managed to show a little color on my skin. (Usually the sun bleaches my
skin-the longer I'm out, the whiter I get!). I spent a lot of the
summer slightly limping around because the soles of my feet were burned
from walking on hot surfaces after the sun has heated them up--but it's a good
kind of limp! Often the sun was so hot it actually gave me the
"chills".
My newest addition in the toy department this year was a cellular
telephone. Of course, there's some news that you don't want to get when
you're launching the boat off of five foot waves at 65 miles an hour. In
a case like that
I thought a cute idea would be to have an
answering machine with call forwarding. When somebody calls the boat
phone number the message could say, "Bill's at home right now, but as soon
as he goes boating he'll get back to you" .
Boaters are sometimes a funny bunch. While some fishermen are setting
their lines, others are searching for a possible companion. These
captains give the word "cruising" an entirely different meaning, as
if they are some sort of victims of sensual famine!
I'm finishing my sixth year of obsessive boating. To give you an idea of
how much use a boat can get, a average boater puts on about 100 engine hours a
season. I put on about 400 last season, with routine hi-performance
maintenance to deal with every 100 hours. The fuel consumption of this
two engine motorized monster is about 1 and a half gallons per minute.
When I began
boating, I successfully completed a winter long Coast Guard safe boating
class. This education really made me aware of all the trouble you can get
into if you should make the fatal mistake of not respecting the water.
Perhaps part of the magic is recognizing the many dangers of speed on the
water. If you've ever fallen off water skies going 20 miles an hour then
you know how hard the water can be (not to mention the free enema).
Imagine what it would be like at 65 or 70. It's just like concrete, the
faster you go the harder that cold black water becomes. Offshore racing
teams call the unstable water "liquid asphalt".
There are several new 30 foot boats available which have been clocked on
accurate radar at 112-115 MPH. I guess it wouldn't be the most unenvyable
of fates to expire the way that the legendary Isadora Duncon did, in the story
of "The Loves of Isadora". The only exception would be that my
long silk scarf would become tangled in one of the powerful outdrives instead
of the classic Bugatti roadster.
Even when
the boat is not under power there's still something magic about the constant
gentle motion of the waves. Jackson Browns "rock me on the
water" keeps coming to mind during moments of solitude as I mindlessly
stare at the sunset of Chicago's skyline. At these times I can completely
understand the sport of sailing.
There's enough room out there for both factions of boaters to co-exist
peacefully, even when I see some sailors "batten down the hatches"
when throttleman comes screaming by breaking the silence.
But after all, sail boats have engines that make noise and pollute too!
And besides, all of us pay our mooring fees and taxes.
It's impossible to ignore nature when you're out there alone. 90% of the earth’s
surface is water and the Great Lakes were created from separate glaciers the
size of each lake. If you've ever come into Chicago from an airplane making an
approach to O’Hare with Westerly winds, it makes one realize how insignificant
we really are. It was an even more humbling experience getting caught in
the fury of several torrential rain showers.
Often during rainy
spells when I feel the urge to float alone, I spend the night aboard. The
sound of the rain falling on the hull as I'm sleeping comfortably is
hypnotically peaceful. The silence is only broken by a sound that I finally
figured out last year. Occasionally a large fish will thump up against
the side of the hull during the night.
There is the gentle constant motion of the water with short spells of
torrential winds and rain. When the flashes of lightning and the concussion
of thunder explode you realize how powerless you are against these forces.
I did my usual night boating, watching many sunsets and sunrises from the
water. There is something very captivating about taking an offshore racer
out after dark with the illuminated silhouette of the radar arch and the deep
throaty sound of the twin 454 Chevy engines. To watch a full moon rise
over the horizon, or to look back at the lights from the city glimmering across
the water, is a facet of boating I never get tired of and long to experience
time and again. Especially in the dead of winter.
My 100 watt stereo managed to deafen me. With speakers mounted by the
floor, in the cabin, and in the wing, the phrase I heard most from other party
boats was, "Hey Prewitt, turn on your arch!" Parading down Monroe
Harbor with the "Miami Vice" theme at full blast, I had to laugh
thinking of the boat as a floating ghetto blaster.
"Just put it up and go" is the expression I use to throttle up.
and plane out. Actually you just light the fuse and take aim. When
I got inspired I even worked on a song.
If she had wings/I know she could fly
Launchin' off of each wave/We watch the city fly by
It's the nature of the beast/That way she behaves
Out of control/Breakin' each wave
The sailors see you commin'/They get out of your way
There's 13 racers runnin'/Sounds like thunder today
That water is cold & hard & mean/Just like liquid concrete
She'll do 70 mph in the top end flyin'/Loud and nasty and I ain't lyin'
On August 14, I decided to test
my yachtsmanship by making a solo run across the Lake to Grand Haven,
Michigan. There I would see the International Offshore Powerboat
Races. Grand Haven is about 110 nautical miles. My spirits were
dampened as it rained all day. It appeared that I wouldn't be able to
make the trip at all. At about 4 PM an hour passed with no
downfall. The weather pattern was moving at 30 MPH to the
Northeast--exactly the same speed and course to the races.
I knew that "window" was at least an hour wide, and if I throttled at
least 30 MPH, I would continue to stay in that corder. If rain started
falling all I would have to do is accelerate to get back into that weather
window. My pulse increased. One last listen to NOA weather, and
with no severe warnings-I left. (Doesn't this sound like a Loyd Bridges
commentary from the old series "Sea Hunt"in his serious voice?)
The roar of the engines laboring for hours illustrated for me the extremes of
man and nature. These were the same waters which had claimed vessels and
treasures for centuries. Gorden Lightfoot sings about the unusual way
that only Lake Michigan "doesn't give up its
dead". For some physiological reason, bodies float on all other
waters except Lake Michigan. To see nothing for 360 degrees on the
horizon for hours is a very humbling experience. It became clear to me
that "running out of anchor line" isn't the only way to reach
the end of your rope.
Following a careful compass
heading of 62, I was elated when I spotted lights at about 8:30 PM. Those
lights turned out to be only a sailboat! During these moments I realized
what a huge lake it is. By turning off all my navigational lights, I
could definitely see a glow from a city directly on course.
At last, 9:30 PM the city lights began to emerge. After careful
navigation into the channel, I was told I was in Muskegon--not bad considering
the windy weather! I had overshot Grand Haven by only a few miles. I
gassed up and as soon as I tied up for the evening, it began to rain and continued
for the rest of the night. My calculations were exactly correct.
August 15 the races got underway in 6-7 foot waves. All the most
outrageous international powerboats were running, including my favorite boat
"Popeye’s" driven by Al Copland (owner of the Popeye’s chicken
chain). The prize for one of these races is about $10,000. The gas
alone for a boat like Al Copland in this 2 hour race is about $10,000!
It's a sport where the owners don't stand a chance to make money. Almost
every boat had its own helicopter also following just overhead. The
drivers constantly keep in contact with video and radio communications.
The purpose is to get mechanical advice directly from the crew chief, to record
every move their boat makes for close scrutiny later. Of course, they
would also provide instant medical rescue should any mishap occur.
There are many ways for these
racers to lose their lives with this incredibly risky sport, and every season
it happens several times. (I guess they're not in it for the money!)
In the early afternoon the races had ended, and I was underway again following
the exact reciprocal compass reading for my return voyage. One last final
check on the weather channel, a bag of ice, and I was
underway. Off I went into these same 6 footers that the competitive boats
were being launched off of only moments before.
I followed the compass heading exactly, even allowing about 10 degrees for the
Southerly wind. Seven hours later at about 7:30 PM I began to get
concerned when my 150 gallon tank began to approach empty. Alas-lights
began to emerge from the shore many miles away. As I got closer it
definitely appeared to be Venetian Night with brightly decorated boats, but
none of the surroundings looked familiar. The suspense was killing me. I
finally went to my marine radio for assistance. The coast guard politely
welcomed me to Venation Night here in Racine Wisconsin.!
I decided to figure out my slight navigational error later, but first I
desperately needed gas, as the boat was running on fumes. The only way
over to the pumps was actually in the parade, so I turned on my arch lights and
had to laugh when the boating locals looked confused at the unfamiliar, poorly
decorated offshore racer appearing in the Venetian Night parade.
On Sunday morning, August 16 I'm off again
to Chicago. That trip was a very enjoyable leg of the journey because I
got an excellent view of every single beachfront house from Racine to
Chicago. There is sure some incredible real estate along those shores.
Finally later in the afternoon I arrived back at the familiar skyline of the
"Windy City" in time for a nap on the sun deck of the padded engine
covers. Later Sunday evening there were severe weather warnings and the
weatherman made good on those promises.
Now it's that time for us fanatics to watch all the video tapes shot from the
helicopter all winter observing the magnificent beast launching itself off each
wave. I postponed a necessary gall bladder operation a year ago July
until January, just because I didn't want to lose any of the precious seasons.
Now that's a fanatic!
When I launch the boat in the spring I'm always amazed that I was able to
be patient through the winter and manage to wait until the next season.
It's really crazy to purchase a pricey pleasure boat which only depreciates in
value. The most that you can hope to get out of it is a tan! Not to
mention that every time you turn around while the boat is running on plane,
your sunglasses are blown off into the water. Lake Michigan has eaten at
least 200 pairs of my sunglasses.
In the middle of September oil pressure was lost in the starboard motor which
proved to be a baring problem or basically speaking I” popped an
engine". It was time to repower. Being the rational person
that I am all I wanted was MORE SPEED AND MORE POWER. Within 3 weeks I
had the motors and transmissions removed, rebuilt, bored out to 800 horsepower,
and re-installed.
Purchasing my "late leavers" permit I was still in the water to enjoy
days like Nov 2, 87 which was sunny - 70 degrees - 1 foot waves, November 3,
sunny - 75 degrees - just like glass, etc. When the water temperature is
47 degrees, it's really fun to make steam!
About a week later I learned that the fuel mixture was too lean, and the
engines had to come out again. This time I installed Harden Headers,
which is sure to be a hit with the sailors next year. I guess it's
inevitable that they're going to hear from me.
Well, I just wanted to share a little of my elation with you and pass along
some of the joy that I had last summer. Although boating plans are
contingent on the weather it's always fun to go out, even if it's just for an
hour or so, or go down to the boat for lunch. I feel that I am a lucky
person to be able to enjoy the life I have etched out for myself.
I hope my silly newsletter raised your spirits
in some small way and I'll look forward to seeing you next season when the
familiar smell of teak-oil is in the air again.
It's nice to know that the lake is always there when you need it.
Lake Michigan never closes!
Bill