2004 4th District Green Star

Reported by Tom Londrigan Jr.

SPRINGFIELD --- A year ago, my cousin Mike Londrigan asked if I would crew for him in the Green Star, apparently I agreed.  Where does the time go?  This weekend, the time arrived to serve on the front of the boat.  Naturally, I checked my brain at the hoist and started the daydreams of a crew… thoughts of motorcycles and beer… and girls… or, girl that is, um, my wife. 

The favorites going into the regatta certainly included Jim Babel and Bill Hawk from Gull Lake, Michigan, and LJ Powell and Richard Budinger from Springfield.  Many other contenders pulled a “Lewis” and failed to appear.  As Mike Pick always says, “never on the race course, never a win a regatta.”  So true Dr. Mike, so true.  Of course, showing up doesn’t guarantee anything either (see, Chicago Cubs in dictionary).   

The forecast was light and variable.  This is when the local weather forecasters pencil in light and variable for the whole month of July and leave for a family vacation. Incidentally, it is also their most accurate forecasts of the year.  Saturday started with crews sitting on the leeward side, to no avail, and finished with crew and skipper on the leeward side, still to no avail.  Yet, the race was finished within the time limit.  

Mike and I were called over as premature starters, normally I would protest the accusation but my father was the Race Committee Chairman and Mike suggested that we tip our caps and restart.   I then lapsed back into daydream mode… motorcycles, beer…. But, the whooping and hollering of my spider-monkey-brother-Pat, who was sitting on a wave runner next to the Committee boat screaming about justice, interrupted the calm.  Apparently, he believes that I am always premature but never called back by the RC.   In this instance, I pointed out; it was my skipper that was premature.  The point was lost on the Spider Monkey who continued his joyous dance on the wave runner.

 Meanwhile, those seamen that had not climaxed prematurely sailed on.  LJ Powell had stretched out a nice lead throughout the race and Jim Babel did a nice job closing the gap until the last leg when the powerboat waves took control.  Within one hundred yards of the finish, the entire fleet pulled even with each other.  A half hour later, Dr. Pick drifted across the line.  The end result; two new green chevrons for Mike, and two green bars for his crew Gil Cole.  LJ and Richard floated a second, more chevrons, more bars, and Mike and I barely scored a third.  Bartender, chevrons and bars for all my friends.   We were drunk on the heat, our water was gone, and we still had two more races for Saturday. 

 The Spider Monkey reappeared as if a mirage, this time bearing gifts.  He brought out 35 bottles of water on his little water taxi.  Thank you, Spidey.

 The second race was more conventional.  Jim Babel and Bill Hawk took a nice lead and held it throughout.  Mike and I caught up to second and the race was on for third place between George and Lynda Preckwinkle, LJ and Richard, and Dr. Mike and Gil.  Without the benefit of video, we will never know exactly what happened as the testimony was light and variable.  The finish was downwind… this we know.  Dr. Mike and Gil hit the pin end of the finish line, another solid fact.  Dr. Mike and Gil did not return to the course side of the finish and do a 360 degree turn; instead they re-rounded the pin end of the finish line.  Issues revolving around the position of the three boats, sufficient room to finish, and even the tack the boats were all on, were all on trial.  It was a midsummer’s night dream with Gil bringing to life an enchanted story that seemed far from real.  The result was a DSQ for Dr. Mike and Gil.  Dr. Mike graciously accepted his letters (instead of numbers) and quick descent as regatta leader.  Gil vowed to continue asserting antiquated rules and telling tall tales.  Everything was back to normal.

 Going into Sunday it was Mike Londrigan with 5 points in first and Jim Babel and LJ Powell tied for second with six points.  Mike hit all the shifts on the first race and enjoyed a huge lead.  However, the wind died and conveniently filled in from behind on the last leg.  It was a downwind finish and on the horizon Mike and I could see the fleet marching down through the heat wave hanging over the water.  I licked my lips, took a swig of water and pronounced, “Well, Mike, that was a nice 5/6^th of a race you sailed.”  Oh, the horror.

  Like an apparition, the Spider Monkey materialized a few feet from our boom while we were watching the fleet bring up the wind.  After a few minutes of observing the latest development, he graciously advised, “Don’t choke your chicken.”  Ah, family, they are there when you need them most.  Thanks to such inspirational words, Mike held on.  He put his boat between Babel and the finish.  It was the immovable object fighting the irresistible force and the object won.  Going into the last race, Mike enjoyed a two-point lead over Babel and LJ Powell was four points behind. 

 Babel nailed the start; so did we.  We couldn’t cross the pin, we had to gybe and duck the entire fleet, but we nailed it nonetheless.  Babel was winning, we were in last but don’t pop the cork just yet.  Going into the last leg there was a new order.  LJ took the lead, Dr. Mike was in second, Al Covington and Glen Zipp (obviously, a made-up name) in third, Carson Menges and Rick Rundle in fourth, Mike Londrigan fifth, and Babel in sixth.  Oh, the horror. 

 LJ was now en route to the Green.  Time to strike up the band.  LJ’s and Richard’s diabolical plan had worked.  LJ’s family never watched his racing.   Yet, on cue, LJ’s wife and kids appeared out of nowhere on a powerboat at the last mark of the regatta urging their dad to his rightful place on the trophy.  This was manifest destiny.  The years of work, the glory and satisfaction, it was all for LJ and Richard to relish.   Like a mad scientist, he had worked the plot down to the finest details.  He must have been rubbing his hands together muttering, “The fools didn’t know it was even coming!”  LJ won the race; it was his Green Star if Mike stayed in fifth.  LJ and Richard waited to see the drama unfold. Painfully, Carson Menges and Rick Rundle slowly slipped from fourth like an old man getting into a hot bath. Oh, the horror.

 Mike Londrigan is Mr. Green.  Congratulations and thanks to the RC for a great job and Rick Brethorst for running the event, and of course, the Spider Monkey for enhancing the weekend in his own special way.