The Toms River Paddling Race 2022: The Scrambling
For a race director, the competition ends at the start line and begins the moment s/he scrambles to find the perfect date on the paddling calendar, a date that is so remote from all other similar events that paddlers far and near, whether out of boredom or desperation, feel compelled to honor, even at the cost of missing their only chance for an exotic vacation. I thus began 2022 with delusions of grandeur for the turnout of the 49th Annual Toms River Paddling Race, given the large numbers of dedicated athletes who graced Toms River with some of their best paddling in the previous two years. Ironically, however, the worst of times (i.e. those marked by the pandemic) were the best of times for the few race directors who persisted in having a law-abiding event that drew (socially distant) crowds of appreciative paddlers.
But any Icarian goals I might have harbored quickly landed back on earth as I tried in vain not to conflict with other paddling races this year, which has proven to be a year of comeback events. I first thought, “I’ll choose the 23rd of July, one week after the Blackburn and one week or so before the Hudson River Cup.” Wrong! The Cape Ann Rowing Club had postponed the Blackburn to the 24th of July, which would allow some of its finest finishers to contest also at the Gorge (July 11-16) or at the New Jersey-based Desatnik Foundation’s famed Around the Cape (16-mile circumnavigation of Cape May and fundraiser for victims of spinal cord injury) scheduled on July 17. “Ok,” I gulped, “perhaps July 10, the Sunday after the holiday will still allow time for traveling and training before the bigger events.” So on my mark, I got set for the Toms River Race on the 10th. But was the race ready to go? Yes, but… oh no! the Jamestown Double Beaver Race was already on the New England Surfski calendar for the 9th, timed perfectly two weeks from the Blackburn as a last training trial. Surely, none of my favorite New England paddlers would drive to New Jersey after their own race. And I forgot about my canoeist friends! I was unaware that the International Dragon Boat Federation Club Crew Championships were going to return in 2022 beginning on July 18, which meant that many local outrigger canoeists who came to Toms River last year were destined now for Sarasota. “Well,” I breathed, “maybe SUP racers will still come.” But I learned on July 10 that a paddleboard race occurred on the 9th somewhere in the breadbasket states. Inevitably, my “race” to secure a date for Toms River was more of a game of bumper cars with other great events that were attracting all types of paddling talent. Gladly, though, there are winners of this race for space on the calendar: the paddlers, who, after all, deserve a plethora of events from which to choose in order to showcase their ability. Indeed, as a race director, I do not even have the time to consider myself as a real competitor; I am merely a cheerleader for those who do compete. As such, I was so grateful to host a very strong field of twenty surfskis, six outrigger canoes, one coastal rowing skull, and a few paddle and prone boards.
Yet after securing the date of the race, other unforeseen conundrums caused me to perspire. Toms River township was expected to sell the land that the race organizers had always used for the race launch to a private entity. Thus, with the anticipation of our launch no longer accessible, I had the township change my permit to another venue along the river (Money Island Beach). Accordingly, New Jersey surfski legend and loyal volunteer of the Toms River Race Sean Brennan designed a new open water course for the new launch. But Money Island Beach, despite its feasible accommodation of a large number of paddling craft, still posed challenges: parking would’ve been limited and investing in portable restrooms would’ve been necessary. As I scrambled to make readjustments for Money Island, I learned just weeks before the race that the settlement between the township and the private company was (and is) still far from closing. While the possibility of using our favorite launch in 2023 remains uncertain, my stumbling on venue and marine permits ended in success as we managed to retain downtown access to the river this year. Finally, my volunteers and I could settle on the original race course and venue. Finally, I could concentrate on “normal” challenges, like race day logistics and an improved timing system. After some research, I hired Doug Rice, founder and owner of Split Second Racing, a locally based timing company with over 30 years of experience. Thanks to Doug, the race transformed itself from relying on broken clocks (euphemism for inept timers) to a chip-timed event with live results.
At last, July 10 arrived. With partly cloudy skies, air temperature in the 80s and ENE winds about 10kts with gusts up to 15kt, the conditions were going to prove as challenging and the water (in the most exposed section of the course) as confusing as the very trajectory of the race planning. By having the security check immediately available upon individual check-in, we had twenty minutes to spare before the first wave was due to start at 9am. Although I could’ve had one mass start this year with about 34 boats on the course, I was glad to give everyone much more space to spread their paddles on the start line with the surfskis and doubles in the first wave, and the outrigger canoes, SUPs, prone boards, and coastal rowing skull in the second wave that commenced ten minutes after the first.
Wave 1, with members of Wave 2 starting to catch up. Photo by Lisa Mariano Elrick
As the horn blew at 9am, I took off on my v8 pro with the least energy I ever experienced on a start line. In the last few days leading up to the race, I experienced some insomnia but thought that I could still unleash a reserve of energy that I always seemed to have on race day. This year my last reserve was spent on planning. Paddling in my own race seemed more like an afterthought. Despite my lethargy, I kept calm but alert. I anticipated the quarter bow beam waves on the port from the northern wind, the few areas of semi-protection such as the high lying Money Island provides on the north shore, the eastern headwind that would prove to be a grind until the turnaround, and the lumpy downwind on the ride back. Instead of attempting to get protection from the wind, I followed however slowly behind Stephanie Schell, the only other female on surfski in the race this year, who, like me, was obviously choosing to take the most direct route to the turnaround buoy.
A very rare sighting of Stephanie Schell behind me. We were paddling up to the start line. Photo by Lisa Mariano Elrick.
The headwind and side chop were annoying, though not too exasperating that I couldn’t paddle with comfort and stability towards the center of the river just outside of the main channel. I kept looking for Sean in anticipation of him leading the return, but I never saw him. As I wondered about which line he would take coming back, I began to see Long Point (about three miles into the course). Before I reached this skinny, sandy, finger-like peninsula that demands a wide turn into the most exposed stretch of the course (about a half mile from the turnaround buoy), John Costello, and later, Rich Koppel tried to warn me about the not-so-fun confused waves ahead, but I knew what was to come and was not concerned for myself but for others. I saw Gary Rancourt, who capsized from his Stellar SEI G2 converted into Hobie Mirage pedal drive. I witnessed him remount and pause to take a few breaths. After reassuring me that he felt well enough to continue, I paddled to the turnaround buoy just east of Dillon Creek. As any New Jersey coastal paddler knows, open water here is not like it is in most other places. While the Hood River provides opportunity for consistent, roaring downwind, and other bodies of water capable of large swells such as the Sakonnet River in RI or the Chesapeake Bay may allow for surfing readability, the coastal waters of New Jersey tend to be shallow, vulnerable to high, shifting winds, refractive energy from piers and bulkheads, and rogue boat wakes caused by, (in my opinion), the nation’s most reckless boaters who are also without coincidence the worst American drivers. The Toms River did not disappoint our out-of-state guests: with a true Jersey shore strong welcome, the river became a mechanical bull on the half-mile stretch between Long Point and the turnaround, bucking and shoving its attempted riders in all directions, relentlessly threatening capsizes. (If Tim Dwyer is reading, please consider that we New Jerseyan clam-eaters can ride the bull in our own waters, which is no doubt in part the reason our local kayak team is prepared to take on Neveragain (um, Narragansett) Bay year after year.) Many did indeed scramble to remount. As for me, I just escaped the rough section as quickly as I could, without grace or technique (or, in other words, as I usually paddle). (I’d like to share a local traveling tip: if you are looking for a fun, wild time in New Jersey, forget Six Flags. Just come to the Toms River, and you’ll get the ride of your life!) Still sleepwalking on the bull, I endured its kicks and punches, while taking advantage of a few thrusts in the right direction (that is, I found occasional waves to surf on the return leg).
While Stephanie Schell confided in me that conditions were tougher this year than last, I am in awe of her consistent success and sustained progress. While many of us reported being slower this year by minutes, Stephanie was just 39 seconds slower than last year. And she uses only an elite v10L in open water. She was one of the fastest women in 2021 but placed first overall this year, with many wins over the men. I felt bad that Stephanie and I were the only women on surfski but I’m glad that she still found some honorable competitors. I kept Stephanie “company” for only a few seconds on the sprint.
The men’s surfski division was more interestingly packed with veteran locals and out-of-town amateurs, alike, all of whom did well. Similar to the road runner cartoon character whose traces are seen only in a blur, Sean claimed another overall win, with speed so impressive that although he saw me on his return, I missed him as did the finish line video (the timer explained that Sean sped past the finish line earlier than he anticipated and was therefore unable to film him).
Although Sean was disappointed to miss his Hollywood début after the timer failed to film him, my friend Lisa captured evidence of the Water Runner before he disappeared behind the bulkhead..
Like high-speed trains peeling metal on the rails, Alan and Sean slice through the water on their k1s, with Alan screeching slightly ahead at the finish.
After Sean, Craig and Rob dueled neck-to-neck until the turnaround buoy, with Craig showing his greater years of experience in rough water as he caught a few small waves that allowed him a slight separation from Rob. About a half mile later, a paddler heading to the turnaround alerted Craig: “He’s about six boats back.” Craig, taking the warning as seriously as though a shark were after him, found the determination to maintain a high speed that landed him second place overall, about 16 seconds ahead of Rob, who placed third. I congratulated Craig on his Stone Cold Comeback, though to be fair, Craig simply proved once again that he is a veteran champion, a New Jersey waterman who never quits. Rob is no doubt fortunate to have such great mentors and coaches who support his own fair efforts. According to the men’s surfski age subdivisions, Sean received the gold, Rob the silver, and Anthony Colasurdo the bronze in the open while Craig placed first, John Costello second, and John Redos third in the 40+ group.
Additionally, some newcomers to surfski deserve particular attention. Anthony Colasurdo, known for his first-place marathon finishes on his prone board, such as in the Paddle for a Cause 22.5-mile circumnavigation of Absecon Island, has made his début this year on surfski. He ranked fourth in the Toms River Race this year, about two minutes behind Rob. With continued time in the bucket, I predict that Anthony will move up the ranks in the surfski division. Trevor Wagner, a wildwater kayaker from Pennsylvania, has also recently tried surfski—but not just any ski: thanks to a loaner from Chris Norbury, Trevor is proving himself to be a stable, mean force on an Epic v10L elite layup. Aaron Baldwin, a new paddling racer, used a Wave Excel fast sea kayak to compete against the surfskis.
The tandem teams were also mighty. Greg Lowry and Erik Werner took the gold while Erin and Alan Lamb took the silver, and John Ponticorvo and Ted Korth received the bronze. Despite some challenges in their racing season, Erin and Alan were only one minute slower than last year: proof of their consistent hard work. Alan, in fact, showed his specialty for sprint, stunning us all by beating Sean in the 100-meter race in the canal. Although not eligible for awards, Bob Russo as the only coastal rower in the race placed 7th overall (in between Redos and Wagner). For his part, Bob told me that his scull is made for washing machine conditions: at no point did he fear a spill. Josette Lata, paddleboard champion of long and shorts courses easily beat the men in the open and in the sprint.
Finally, it was a pleasure meeting outrigger canoeists Gil Ross, Janet Rutzel, Meegan Coll, and Maria Go who placed respectively. John Pfleger returned on prone to duel with Adam Durrua, a newcomer to the race but whose relative John Durrua, former owner of the defunct Jersey Paddler, used to host the Toms River Race. It was nice to see John come to his former customer’s race now as a proud spectator of Adam, who won for prone. One last fun fact: Marshall Seddon raced with us on his birthday, one of his only two vacation days. I hope the race brought extra joy to his special day.
And so, another Toms River Race has ended. My scrambling to plan the race was a prediction of our scrambling on confused but fun waters. Even with the birth of my company Competitive Paddlesports of New Jersey, I cannot imagine what 2023 will bring to the local paddling community and to Toms River.
