Tybee 500 Coverage from Gale's Shore Crew

Latest Tybee 500 News - Friday, May 16, 2003 - Day 7
Ormond Beach to Fernandina

The Mighty Wheelmen

"On the seventh day he rested" does not apply to David Wallace.

Besides a sound boat, there's something else that every team cannot be without: a strong strapping man to push it out as far as possible beyond the surf. And to carry the beach wheels back to the trailer after seeing the racers on their way.

It's a strange sight to see a steady stream of more than a couple dozen guys with these specialized gadgets, basically an axel with a wheel on either end that's used to jockey the boat around the beach. As part of the daily routines, ground crews take their beach wheels out to the finish/start area, along with coolers of drinks and such for the sailors. And don't forget the bag of tools, tape, and other paraphernalia for boat repairs and adjustments.

When a boat surfs into the finish, it has to be moved out of the way, and quickly. And each boat is then lined up parallel to the waves farther from the surf, starting at the north end of the beach toward the south in the order that they came in. (But remember: don't go near that turtle nest!) Then it's moved back toward the water in the morning, again in the same position as it arrived the night before, and lined up for the start. The wheels are pulled away, set aside by the shore crew, then towed on a trailer to the next stop after the boats have all gone.

There are different ways to heft these beach wheels back and forth from beach to trailer. And one might mistake them for giant barbells when these musclebound guys carry them above their heads.

Today began with the tension of not knowing if the torn sail, which had been left at the sail loft for repair this morning, would be ready in time to attach it to the mast. One option was to wait for it and get a late start. However, several different teams had quickly offered us the use of their extra sails. Decisions had to be made. So, at the last minute, when it wasn't certain if the mended mainsail would get to the beach in time, Dave notified the race committee that Team Antieau Art would accept the loan of a mainsail from Jim Stone of San Antonio, Texas, on Team Soul Surfer.

It's an important race rule: any equipment changes need to have valid reason and meet the approval of the race committee. This prevents a team from taking any unfair advantages. In our case, it meant that the borrowed sail would be initialed by the race officer and would be a permanent substitute, that is, used for this leg as well as for the next one (the last leg that ends the race).

The swap didn't go without a hitch, though. After David got Carl's extra battens inside Jim's sail, and had them all tied and taped into place, he hustled and hoisted it up onto the mast. About five minutes later, and minutes before the start, someone from another team called to us urgently, noticing that the third batten was broken.

This is the perfect example of the spirit and camaraderie of racers and shore crews involved in this event. If the broken batten had gone unnoticed it would have torn this spare sail that was so generously loaned to us. Not only would it have been a shame to needlessly ruin someone else's sail, but it would have seriously cost our sailors more time.

Down it came, the batten pulled out, with Dave making a mad dash to find Rick Bliss and get a new one. Rick works on the race committee and also owns New England Catamarans. He's brought with him a trailer filled with spares, and just about anything a racer and boat might need, running "team tabs" that get settled up later on.

To our surprise, in the middle of all this confusion, the race's safety person arrived with clipboard in hand for a random safety check!

Since a 500-mile offshore test of endurance in a fragile beach cat can be dangerous, safety is a major issue. Each boat is required to carry a minimum of a cell phone, VHF radio, flares, throwable floatation device, a GPS, and water. At the same time, the sailors themselves are also inspected for appropriate personal floatation, strobe light, etc.

That done, Antieau Art's boat made its way to the start. Not with the big and beautiful flying fish that we all knew and loved, but with some strange new logos that meant nothing to us. It was an intact sail, however, and we were still in the race. Carl and Gale, fully suited, faces smeared white with layers of sunblock, were pushed off the beach and got a great start.

By this time Bill had picked up the repaired sail, which according to rules will not be used in this race after all. After the boats were far off in the distance, we headed for Fernandina, with a stop along the way—Flagler Beach. It's a great little town on the water's edge, where we sat on the upper deck of an open eatery and waited for the fleet to go by. It's a tradition of sorts, begun when catamarans in other distance races pass here very close to shore.

We pulled out binoculars when sails came into view and proudly watched as Team Antieau Art cruised by, with both sailors hiked out (or double trapped), sometimes with one hull lifting out of the water—in fifth place! The four ahead of them are the best of the best, and six or seven boats were following close behind, so we knew that this leg, like the others, would be a very competitive one.

When we arrived at Fernandina, we got situated in our rooms, organized and oriented, and Dave made sure all the tools, equipment, drinks, and fruit were ready to go. Beach wheels were at the ready. Again, we hurry up and wait.

Gale uses a special nutritional replacement called Endura Rx-40 that comes in powder form and is mixed with water. Since I couldn't find the sports bottle she had previously used for that purpose, I had to use an Aquafina water bottle today. And there I was, walking along the beach, whiling away the time, talking to people here and there from other teams doing the same thing, and carting around all the odd paraphernalia I always need: binoculars, tape recorder, notepad and pencils, cameras, cell phone, two-way radio, etc.

It was a long day for the racers at over 96 miles, and it was getting late. In my hand was the Aquafina bottle holding Gale's healthy yellowish-greenish cloudy mixture in it. As I walked by one woman she looked at me and winked, saying, "Ha. I don't think that's really Aquafina in that bottle. Looks more like a marguarita to me!" Hmmm. I suppose it does. Then I wondered about getting the salt just right around the narrow rim of the bottle top and… uh-oh…sails have been spotted.

Between 6:37 and 6:50, four of the top five teams barreled into shore. Then something really crazy started happening. A dozen boats were arriving at once, jibing and jockeying in front of us, and trying to play the wind to get to the finish line first. One of them just happened to have the now-familiar-to-us Team Antonio lettering and a logo with the flag of Texas where our flying fish ought to be. A couple minutes after seven, five boats were suddenly at the finish line together, all within 30 seconds of one another!

Strange as it seems, I was taking videos and not able to see all the action, but the judges announced that Team Antieau Art was number six in the chaos, and that was fine with us.

A celebration was in order and our gracious hosts and sponsors in this town treated us well. See the addendum for today, the one that describes all our sponsors, and read about Fernandina's fine hospitality. We are truly grateful to Amelia Hotel and Suites and the Crab Trap.

In the meantime, though, big wheels and wheelmen keep on turnin'. Just one more start and one more finish to go. It's hard to believe it will all be over soon.

--Diana Prentice

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