Issue 140: Sept/Oct 2021
A few summers ago, my buddy Travis and I were powerboating on the Connecticut River when mechanical issues forced us into the nearest marina. While Travis looked for help, I walked around the yard. As usual–and I knew this would be the case, having meandered among the jack stands at Midway Marina on numerous occasions–the place featured a healthy assortment of older fiberglass sailboats.
Suddenly I froze mid-stride. Hey now. Could that really be an S2 9.1? I walked over. On the boat’s white hull was the name Pursuit.
At this point, Travis, who’d found what he needed, unceremoniously hustled me back to the docks. The sailboat had to be a doppelganger, I thought. After all, her Arlington, Vermont, hailing port was two states away. And aren’t there a million sailboats named Pursuit?
Flash-forward to early summer 2021, and Travis has been bitten by the sailing bug. At the moment, he is interested in J/30s.
“You know,” I say (“Beavis and Butthead” light bulbs simultaneously flashing), “there’s a boat similar to the J/30 that performance-wise is nearly identical but might be a better family cruiser. It’s called an S2 9.1. I think I might know where one is.”
A quick internet search confirmed that the boat was indeed still in Haddam, so one drizzly morning we made our way north and there she was, sitting in the exact same location. The marina owner wasn’t aware of her provenance, other than that she’d come from Vermont. She must have been a serious race boat at some point, he said, because she arrived with a quiver of high-end sails. The boat had been upgraded to rod rigging, and the yard had fully re-cored the boat’s deck from below. He visibly winced as he told me this last detail. They probably had $30K into the boat, he admitted, and her asking price was half that.
I circled the boat in the rain, looking for clues. This was, after all (unbeknownst to Travis), the main reason we were there. I just had to know.
And then, suddenly, the evidence I was looking for, a barely discernible outline left behind by stickers long ago removed: Madison, CT.
As sailors, some of us have a tendency to anthropomorphize to an embarrassing degree the boats we intimately know and admire. I know I do. It’s hard to describe the feelings that rushed over me when I discovered the vessel’s true identity. After all, this was the boat I’d raced on as a college student in the mid- to late-’80s. Back then, its Madison-based owner campaigned out of the Groton-Long Point area in Connecticut, and the crew he’d assembled—me being one of the few exceptions—was a veritable who’s-who of local top guns, folks who referred to themselves as “Mudheads.” Needless to say, we won a lot of races. And vanquished many a J/30.
Nothing puts you “in it” like racing, and I saw just about everything there was to see from the foredeck of this sailboat. Near-collisions, crash-jibes flying the chute, a mini-white squall, unintentional groundings, and weather bad enough to render all but two of us seasick. The Mudheads knew how to work hard and achieve results, but they also had fun and drank copious amounts of Busch, Olympia, and Hamm’s while doing so.
Standing there beside Pursuit, I thought of the long journey this boat had made (built in 1986, she was exactly 20 years younger than me), the incredible experiences she must have had. And of course, I couldn’t help but think about my own journey, and the ways that serendipity comes into play as we travel along our paths.
Several years ago, at the celebration of life for this magazine’s former senior editor, Jeremy McGeary, I met Michael Robertson. This spring out of the blue, I got a phone call from him. Now, he and his team have asked me to take his place to be your new helmsman.
Needless to say, it’s a thrill to be aboard Good Old Boat, which, after nearly a quarter-century, is still an independently owned magazine, with a deep understanding of older fiberglass boats and the people who love and care for them. And yes, who anthropomorphize them.
My goal, as always, is to work hard and achieve excellent results, and to have as much fun as possible while doing so. Questions? Comments? Want to know what Hamm’s tastes like? Email me at bob@goodoldboat.com.
I’ll be standing by.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
