Suzanna Hartge Recounts Capsizing of Stormy
Ted Weihe asked me to
crew for him on Stormy (built by Suzanna’s father, Cap’n Dick in 1939) at last
Sunday's WRSC race...I told him he MUST be desperate for crew, but
I said yes before he could reconsider the offer. I also told him
that I have zero experience on the trapeze and certainly hoped he wouldn't
expect me to do that...WAY too clumsy by nature, In spite of the adventure of
it all, I don't think anyone (including Stormy) would benefit from that
experiment. He was fine with that.
There were only 4
Twenties racing: Gracie (Blomquist), Osprey (Klose), Contrary
(Resnick...Robin was crew) and Stormy. Clay Taylor was RC.
The race course:
windward/leeward (2 times around) from off West River Marina up Tenthouse Creek
toward Alex's Hartge Yacht Yard. The wind, flukey and 10 knots max.
Ted and I did NO
warm-up maneuvering...guess he just assumed he'd get what he got from me and
not worry about performance. Sad to say, he got what he got! To
windward, handling the jib was second nature...but I think my version
of alzheimers was evident in nomenclature, though. Downhaul (oh
god, which line is that??), outhaul (crap...), cunningham (you've got to be
kidding me). To leeward, the damn whisker pole was the limit.
It has to be thirty-five feet long. It jammed in the floorboards, snarled
the jibsheets, and threatened to gore Ted at every downwind leg...I must have
apologized 43 times a leeward leg for my inadequacies.
PLEASE tell me why it
can't be telescoping?...!??! Getting it in the jib and hanging onto it
while braced by the mast is the ONLY way I remember doing it on Endeavor
with Mary Tod Hartge....45 years ago, I might add (which is the LAST time I
raced on a Twenty).
After the third race,
I assumed we were done, and satisfied that I had at least not been told to
swim home.
Clay announced a fourth
race, and I figured MAYBE I could collect whatever energy I had left to at
least do no worse than I had been. Hah.
Before we started,
Ted mentioned that his mainsheet was too long and he'd have to shorten it after
the race.
I noticed that Osprey
had dropped out (found out later that their halyard had popped)...so there were
only the three of us racing. The wind was REALLY uncooperative
sailing up the creek. What Ted had assumed (correctly for the other
races), that keeping to the Cumberstone shore and avoiding the headers, was not
working this time. We got around the windward mark and I was in my
predictable snafu with the %#@* whisker pole.
Wham. We came
to a total stop. It was a slow-motion dream state of looking straight up
thru a watery film at Ted directly above me. I was sprawled out on the
mainsail.........HUH? Had we run aground? Couldn't comprehend any of it
immediately.
Ted told me to swim back to the mooring behind us and free the mainsheet In trying to help me deal with the wing-and-wing struggles, apparently the mainsheet snagged the mooring, which brought us not only to a screeching halt, but caused us to capsize.
I worked my way back to the mooring, and after several attempts,
FINALLY freed the mainsheet...which also freed Ted and Stormy. He was on
the centerboard, which was hardly down at all due to the downwind leg. I
swam back and got my hands on it, but had NO leverage and was just hanging like
that "hang in there, it's Friday" cat.
Fortunately, Clay had
the committee boat close by and yelled that he was bringing me a life
cushion...He swam it over to me and he and Ted got the centerboard down
(actually, at that angle, OUT) and they got Stormy back up in no time.
Not ONE DROP of water in her.
She did get water
slopped in getting Clay in the boat.
I had been keeping
clear on my cushion, and decided to just work my way to shore...which was a
ridiculously slow process...but my thought was that facing
the mortification of dragging this out of shape, overweight old lady onto
the boat was far less appealing than drifting to Middle Ground.
Clay and Ted came to
get me...and even though I told them to just sling me a line and tow me in,
they weren't having any of it. They got me in the boat (with much more
water added to the bilge).
The thing is...West
River tasted GREAT! No sludge, no sea nettles, no icky brown mustache...I
felt like I was back in Jr. Fleet.
WRSC got a great
show....the first Twenty capsizing experience not only for me but Ted,
too. I'm not sure how desperate he is to repeat this foolishness...but he
sure was gentleman enough to act like he might be.
Naturally, if you capsize you need a large crowd to watch the ordeal. In our case, there was a wedding party at the club, and we graciously entertained them since the bride was late. She says that they got great pictures of Stormy on her side.
Suzanna Hartge
Response by Jane Hartge, Widow of Cap’n Dick and Suzanna’s Mother
Dear Ted Weihe…
Have you seen Suzanna’s
account of the First Race of the season capsizing in front of God and everybody
off WRSC? She had so much fun telling
me about it, I asked her to write it down.
Should go into the Twenty Footer files…
Capt. Dick and I
capsized the First Race after we were married June 1941, along with some others
who wouldn’t give up to a line squall right there in the River off Shadyside. We had been racing together the season before
… he was kidding about giving me a SOFT introduction before serious
racing. There were no newsletters then,
but later in the summer there was a spectacular capsizing in Annapolis harbor. I had a huge battle with the 200 foot CG “cutter:”
I demanding a pump to get the water out of the “CHESAPEAKE.” They were intent on saving me – deal with the
boat later. Balto and DC papers loved
it. Maybe someone kept the brow sheet …rotogravure
photos. I have it if you haven’t seen
it.
Take good care of
dear old STORMY. Keep her tidy and ready
to go.. she obviously wants all best from “Big Ginny.”
Jane Hartge (Big Ginny is Jane's nickname)