The Milford Small Craft Race 2021: A Triangular Affair
Due to another perfect autumn forecast of sunny skies, temperatures in the mid-70s, and moderate winds (10mph SSW), I decided to go to the Milford Small Craft Race for the first time. After this race was canceled the last two Junes due to the pandemic, I was elated to see that the organizer Ted Taylor rescheduled his event for October 2, and that therefore I would finally have a chance to paddle the triangular open water course in Long Island Sound.
The course, set from the launch at Gulf Beach, across from Milford Yacht Club, formed a 1.9-mile hypotenuse due south, parallel to Charles Island, and with the first left turn at a giant triangular-shaped green float buoy at the tip, then a leg of 1.5 miles due north with the second left turn at a similar green buoy positioned at the right angle, with the base swinging back to a yellow start/finish buoy. This last buoy also served as the beginning of the second loop for those of us doing the 9-mile long-course, which Ted had shortened by about 1.5 miles due to the tides. Now this race is what I call a technical course as opposed to long meanderings and portages through skinny, serpent-like rivers! And after the Toms River Race in July, I would finally have another opportunity this year to race in open, tidal water, which is where my mermaid’s heart is most content. The conditions also presented a challenge great enough to satiate my desire for surfing without being daunting. Each length of the triangle had its uniqueness: the first upwind, the second downwind, the last in cross swells: I was in mermaid delight. And my excitement on the course had me confuse the right triangle with one worthy of Sierpinski, as I seemingly paddled triangles within triangles, after making two loops and so many turns within the bouncy swells.
On the first leg from the start/finish to the first buoy, the battle upwind was even greater during the second loop as the 1-2’ waves forming a potato-patch field familiar to those of us open water paddlers exhausted me physically and psychologically, since each time my bow bounced off a crest, I felt my boat losing power and speed as the hull belly-flopped back down onto the water surface. Although I managed to keep newcomer-to-surfski Bob Spang and my friend outrigger canoeist Jen Cox behind me on the first first leg, I made the blunder of forgetting that the triangle’s base was back at the start/finish line, so just as I imagined Sean Brennan congratulating me for a perfect buoy turn, I began paddling in the wrong direction before Bob called me back. If it hadn’t been for a kind opponent, I might have paddled to Bermuda. For all the panting and puffing I did to keep Jen Cox behind my stern, she took advantage of my faux paddle-pas, showing me that she, as president of ECORA and tidal queen of the Hoboken Cove Community Boathouse, still had a few lessons to teach me in navigation and power. Jen easily lost both Bob and me on the first-loop second leg, leaving me with the delusion that I could still beat Bob. I “strategized” by using the wind now behind me to propel myself up to Bob again, as I found some really good waves to surf. As we skirted past rocky shores topped by beautiful homes at the base of the triangle, I zigzagged in the cross swells and refractive energy, catching a “throw” from Poseidon that did indeed land me a boat length or two ahead of Bob. Yet my hell hull-flopping halted me too many times, allowing Bob to happily hang me to his wash. For all the surfing I did-- and I did the most surfing at this race than I did this entire calendar year without hyperbole (or alliteration)— Bob still had me by a couple of boat lengths, finishing 18 second ahead of me. My official time was 1:33:59 for a length of about 7.5 miles.
I wish to give a huge congratulations to my buddies: winner John Redos who finished in 1:15:24, Dave Grainger, who placed second, and of course, Bob, as well as Jen Cox, SUP extraordinaire Don Finn, and to all those who competed. Thanks to Annie Peterson, who helped to coordinate the post-race luau, we capped the day with a scrumptious all-you-eat luncheon buffet at The Plate, a bar 1.5 miles away from Gulf Beach. The buffet, which consisted of an assortment of sandwich wraps and salads and a free drink at the bar, was as satisfying as the outdoor barbecue at the famed Lighthouse to Lighthouse. Ted should be credited for his brilliant organization and hospitality. He also made sure we were safe, being prepared to modify the course as needed and having safety boats along the course watching the last paddler. The prizes were also one-of-a-kind: a handcrafted plaque that I was so proud to receive, being the only female surfski paddler. Ted put us in suspense by promising that he has a “plan” to make the event even bigger next year. As a race organizer, I learned more by being at Ted’s event. As soon as I hear of the 2022 date, I will urge my fellow open watermen and women to put the Milford Small Craft Race on their calendar.
