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It's been two weeks since we came home with the Tasmanian Devil, a 23' Cedar dugout canoe. Last weekend, we went out and did a little testing, which I would say was a success because we didn't get the motor wet. Tomorrow is a canoe race at LaPush, WA. I loaded the van with the canoe, the motor, and everything I thought I might need.
My wife and two children thought that this would be an event that they had to come and see. We headed out in the morning for a five hour drive to LaPush. Upon arriving in the small coastal town of LaPush, we were greeted with waves from the locals. In the center of town there was a small festival going on. The people in the street cleared a path for us to go through. I stopped and asked where the race was and they gladly assisted with directions. We arrived at the pit area which was adjacent to all the fishing boats, in a small bay behind the breakwater from the Pacific Ocean.
Several racers and their crews greeted us and began to ask us questions. The three most common questions were, "Was I going to race?", "Did I go Testing?", "Did I flip the canoe?" After a half hour of questions I finally recruited a few of the racers to help me get the canoe down to the water. I then put the motor on the boat which brought another bunch of questions. They had never seen a Yamato outboard raced on a canoe before. After answering their questions, I was finally ready to go for a test ride. My primary purpose was that I needed all the seat time I could get before the race. My secondary purpose was that I wanted to show the other racers how well the Yamato outboard runs.
We launched the canoe and one of the racers held the canoe as I climbed in and started the motor. Before I could get in proper sitting position I had motored about 60 feet from the shore and had run over a fish net anchor line. It wound itself up in the propeller and stalled the motor. Now, I was at anchor too far from shore for anyone to give me a hand. I had to jump in the water, untangle the rope from the prop and then there was no chance that I could ever get back into the canoe so I had to swim the canoe back to shore. Boy, was I ever embarrassed. My second attempt was a success and after making a dozen laps around the bay I returned to the beach.
At 30 minutes prior to the starting time for the race, a gentleman came over to me and collected the registration fee, asked my name, the name of the canoe, and said, "Drivers' Meeting will be in 15 minutes." When Drivers' Meeting was called, I walked up to the same man and he instructed me to draw a number from his hat. It was number 3. He then gave us brief instructions for the starting procedure. We were to go across the bay and up into the mouth of the river. If we were successful at this task, he would then drop the green flag, which would be the signal for the start of the race. We were then to go around the oval race course that was marked with six orange buoys in the middle of the bay. The race would consist of eight laps and the red flag would indicate the finish of the race. He then explained that there were 8 participants and that the driver that had drawn lane #1 had the inside lane, and that #8 had the outside lane. I then raised my hand and asked if I could trade my number 3 for number 8. His response was that I could not and that I must start in Lane 3. Boy, now I was nervous.
The first heat of racing was called to start. I motored away from shore and as I was getting on plane I tipped the canoe a little too much and took on a boatload of water. The motor was still running, but there was so much water in the canoe that it wouldn't get back on plane. I returned to the beach and a few of the other racer's pit crews helped me bail the canoe out. To my surprise, the rest of the racers returned to the pits and waited for me to get ready for a restart. I successfully got on plane the second time and we all gathered in the mouth of the river for the start. Once we were all lined up side by side, the green flag was dropped and the race began. I was comfortably running at full speed when I was going in a straight line, but turning was still a big problem. I entered the first turn in second place and exited the turn in 4th place. After 2 laps I had made my way to last place, but I was gaining confidence and driving skills. On lap 4 I jumped to the outside lane and began to start passing the 7th place canoe. As each lap continued I would pass another canoe and by the end of the race I was in 5th place.
After a 30 minute rest, the 2nd race (final heat) was called to start. As I was motoring from the shore I was thinking that this ain't so difficult and that I had a good chance at winning this thing. I did, however draw the #8 starting lane for this heat and I would have to go like hell to win this thing. We all attempted to get lined up for the start, but we were all in a bit of a hurry to get that lead to the first turn. After 6 restarts, we finally lined up well enough to get that green flag to drop. As I was motoring toward the first turn I noticed that there was a lot more wave chop in the bay. This may have been because the tide had changed, or because of all the milling we had done during the restarts. Nonetheless I had thrown caution to the wind and was out to win this thing. Upon exiting the first turn, I was in 4th place. As I was chasing down the third place canoe, I noticed he was making a big arch of the straightaways. Being a seasoned veteran of course racing, I knew that the shortest distance between two buoys is a straight line. So, upon exiting turn two, I jumped to the inside lane and beat him to the next turn. That's cool, I thought. I then had my eyes set on the 2nd place canoe. I finally was on his tail coming through turn one when I decided to make my move to the inside lane and straight shot it to the next buoy. After passing through his roostertail I noticed it was a lot rougher than it was coming off of turn two. I gave the throttle a good twist and we were off to the next turn buoy. Taz and I took a couple good bounces off the waves, but we were going like hell. Than Taz's bow buried into the next wave and then went straight up with a half twist. This move spit me out of the canoe like a bad piece of meat and I was now swimming again.
All was not lost, and I learned some valuable lessons. First, I need a lot more seat time; and second, canoe racing is a kick in the________(well, you know).
Stay tuned. Next fall, I'll tell you about point-to-point racing in the river.
Racer Ric