In 1983 I moved back down to the Santa Cruz area and bought #55 Mercedes. I spent a lot of time in the back of the fleet those first few years, but I was having a great time anyway. We did a lot of road trips back then--Whiskeytown, Folsom Lake, Lake Tahoe, Huntington Lake--plus numerous San Francisco Bay Regattas. There for a few years we did the Berkeley/Metro series as a day trip from Santa Cruz.
In 1987 I was Santa Cruz fleet captain. That's the year the Nationals were to be held in Texas, so I thought it would be nice to have a Regatta in Santa Cruz to fill the gap. We called it the Pacific Coast Championships and we've been having them ever since. 1994 was the first year that I was Class President. At the annual meeting that year, Chris Watts suggested that we start a yearly cumulative point series. Thus, the Roadmaster Series was born. The Roadmaster Series has been the best thing that ever happened to this fleet. It really cut down on fleet fragmentation, and now instead of us having a few Moores at a lot of events, we have been having 15 or 20 or more Moores show up for the few scheduled events, which makes for more fun for everyone. Anyway what I'm saying is that I've been around the fleet for a long time and seen lots of changes. I've seen Nationals with as many as 41 boats ('83) and as few as 6 boats ('89). There have been good years and bad years, and believe me the past few years have been some of the best the fleet's ever had. Our fleet has got some really great sailors in it, and sometimes I think that there is just no way that I'll ever break the top five. However, through the years I've learned that racing against some of the best sailors on the Bay, while frustrating at times, has made a better sailor out of me.
We have a great schedule planned for the year, and already we have secured dates for the Nationals at Huntington Lake and the PCC'S in Santa Cruz. There were grumblings in the fleet last year because we missed the Spring Keel Regatta and the Great Pumpkin Regatta so we'll be back there this year, and we're going to throw in something new over Labor Day weekend that we haven't ever been to before that might be fun--the NOOD Regatta--plus the normal tried and true, Three Bridge Fiasco, Delta Ditch Run, and Doublehanded Farallones.
I hope to see you all out there on the starting line this year, and don't forget to grease those wheel bearings because you can't be a roadmaster if you can't get down the road :-). If you should have any questions/suggestions or just want to talk "Moore 24" give me a call (831-768-0669) or e-mail me at M24CEDES@aol.com.
Joel Verutti #55 MercedesForty-four different Moores competed in at least one of the seven events that made up the 1998 series. This figure is down from the '97 series won by the boys on "Low Profile" when forty-seven boats participated.
Our crew members are who really won the championship for us this year. Besides George Wheeler and myself as boat owners, we were joined by Nathaniel Fennell (who just recently moved to San Diego to work for Bruce Nelson at Nelson/Marek Yacht Design, working on America One's new boats) and Paul Allen of Monterey fame (no, not of Microsoft fame). If not for every one of these people, we would not have won the title.
We were able to win because we did every one of the events on the
schedule. But just look at the crew list-
Three Bridge Fiasco, Mike and Nathaniel, 16th place (over early)
Big Daddy, full crew, 6th place
Double handed Farallones, Nathaniel and Paul, 2nd place
PCC's, full crew, 7th place
Delta Ditch Run, George and Mike, 4th place
High Sierra, Nathaniel and friends, 3rd place
Nationals, full crew, 9th place
Add 5 points for doing all seven events and we ended up winning by 13 points over "Wet Spot" and by 18 points over "Nobody's Girl". Syd was leading in the point standings over the first four races, but we made a strong finish to claim the victory.
We really need to thank Nathaniel for his love of competition because he raced in more events than any of the rest of us. When George and I both had other obligations, he would put together a crew and go out to try and win. He and Paul only came in second to Hodges in the Farallones race and we all know Dave's record there. The same thing happened when he decided to put together a crew for the High Sierra when George was sailing the Pacific Cup and I was out of town. It was really a family affair with his brother Forrest, his uncle Justus, and his other brother Rowan's girlfriend, Francie acting as his crew. They got fourth.
Karma. Good or bad, all boats and crews have it. This next year you should have a goal of trying to establish just what that karma is on your boat. Next time you are in that funk called "Deep" and you know that you're faster than "DFL", maybe try thinking about your karma instead of pulling out another beer and saying "We'll get them next race."
Good luck to everyone next year, but just remember that a positive attitude makes up for a lack of boat speed. (It won't win you any regattas, but you will feel better about your life on Monday morning)
Michael Fink, Kamikaze #52Last year, while we were all dreaming up arguably strange and certainly marginal new ways to one-up our comrades in the now fashionable realm known as the "extreme" sports arena, one intrepid member of our ranks trumped us all. Yes, while we were "busy" wearing just the perfect grooves into our La-Z-Boy's while tossing back tall necks and defiantly proclaiming, "I can do THAT", Greg Morris was, well, doing that.
Having just recently purchased Frog Wings, hull #49 with his partner Bruce McGill, Greg, in what could be described as a typically circuitous fashion, entered his new steed in the Singlehanded TransPac. After a respectable finish and several months of reflection, I asked Greg to relate his saga to the rest of us. With his ever-present flair for humility, Greg said that he was at a loss for words when it came to re-telling the story of the voyage itself, but would gladly discuss his efforts to prepare himself and his newly renamed Colorblind. What follows is his account:
1998 was pretty boring from a weather standpoint, which means that I don't have any cool stories or near-death experiences to relate. So, I'll talk about how I set the boat up, what worked and what didn't.
I'm brand new to the class, so I relied on advice from Pete Carrick, Mark Gibbs and Dave Hodges. My three biggest concerns were: How do I stow all of the required stuff? How do I keep the stuff dry? How do I make enough electricity?
Food consisted mostly of cliff bars and chili. This strange combination was chosen because I wanted to keep the weight down but also didn't want to have to heat anything. All the food was in a cooler that doubled as the companionway step. Next time, I'll take vitamins too.
We exited the bay and went out 15 to 25 miles off the coast and had a great ride down the coast going anywhere from 6-12 kts. We had a couple of Express 27's with us all through the first night. We tried to keep track of their masthead lights but in the morning we were all alone. The water was beautiful blue and life was good. It was early Sunday morning and we gybed in towards the coast at around Big Sur, and later gybed back out off Port San Luis. So far so good: great food, great sailing, good conversation, nice swell, steady breeze, and nobody and nothing was wet. We gybed a third time late in the afternoon back toward Pt. Conception and could see some sails behind us in the distance. We spent time contemplating who it was and whether they were gaining on us. But soon enough we had no time for contemplation as we approached Conception, the wind was building and we were consistently going about 12 kts. Then the legends of winds at Conception prevailed, we were all clipped in and screaming along driving over and through waves from behind. The boats behind us were no longer even a speck in the distance. Simon was at the helm and holding on to the tiller with two hands trying to keep the boat under the spinnaker. It was blowing 25-35 kts and our speedo was telling us 15-18 kts. I was a little concerned because my ever gregarious partner in Gruntled, Simon, was very quiet and serious with an intense look on his face that I had not seen sailing with him before. I was having great fun sitting there holding onto the pushpit and watching our rooster tail. I tried to think positive thoughts and to concentrate on how fast we were going and not on my stomach which was laced with fear about the squirrely conditions. But Moore 24's are great boats and we never buried the bow though the deck was flush with the water a couple of times. We were getting a bit wet, but it wasn't quite as bad as predicted at the skippers meeting. Hell, we had been completely dry for the entire time so far, not bad for "smallest boat in the fleet."
We zoomed past the western Santa Barbara channel marker and recorded our best burn of 12 miles in 40 minutes with no crashing and no broken equipment other than a broken nail! Simon almost chickened out at the top a pretty nasty wave but Bart screamed at him and he regained his proper sense of recklessness. It felt like we were descending a staircase as we charged into the deep trough and then over the wave in front. Simon said that he though the rig was going to come down. Bart and Chris agreed that this nasty little thought had gone through their heads, but there was nothing to do but sit in rigid panic and wait to see how things unfolded (so to speak). We found that these little boats are as tough as their reputation.
We enjoyed a couple more huge blasts like that and we were busy calculating our finish time "if we could... let's see, keep a 10 kt average!"... I was exhausted from the big adrenaline rush from the previous hours, so I headed down below for a quick snooze. I woke up several hours later and came up to find us creeping along with the #1 and it was about 5am Monday morning. We had to make a headsail change to the #3 at the last mile. Simon and Chris were on the rail dozing off with cold waves dousing them and water running of their slumped heads. We elatedly crossed the finish line around 6am. We had a quick drive home after popping the boat onto the waiting trailer.
In the end, the results came in with Gruntled 3rd in her division (two Hobie 33's beat us) and 5th overall. This race confirmed my opinion that Moores are great boats and the race gave me some of my own sea stories to tell! See you all at next years Coastal Cup.
Becky Jonas.........In September, after a new, much better paying job, Jay Pochop made me an offer I couldn't refuse. I now own hull #88, the former Tonapah Low, now Immoorality (my name picked out in '92). I will be racing her in the Santa Cruz midwinters and in the Santa Cruz regattas in 1999. She will need a new trailer before I can join all of you in the Road Masters series, and that may not happen for another season.
So, I look forward to seeing you all out on the course in the coming year. I know that I have a lot to learn and I expect this fleet to whip me into shape. Please don't hurt me too bad, and I can't wait to get out there and finally drive my first one design.
Susie BarberDay three; two races left and we could be the big boys on the pond. Only need to cover a few boats, get a little lucky with a couple of more and not do anything really stupid. A moment of blackness, eerie sitar music fades in, and then--starboard rounding. The water is the usual two foot chop with a three knot flood pushing relentlessly in as it has for ions on its rhythmic cycle. We patrolled the back quadrant of the line, constantly evaluating the changing course conditions, looking for an edge. Our starts had been aggressive during the series, giving us some mental leverage on the fleet over the course of this grueling series. That put us tied for second with two races to go on the final day. Five minutes now till the first moment of truth.
Pre start maneuvers always resemble too many accountants on too much coffee sitting at too small a table with only one eraser at tax time...hey gimme that, no get your own, hey watch it, get outa my way, cant go in there, look out... eeyaahhh....
Things are a little tense on our boat, we got traffic every where and can't seem to find a reasonable crease in the line to exploit. I try to stick the foreguy up my nose to relive some of the tension, but no one is amused. At fifteen seconds, someone yells to get the guy outta my beak and in the ensuing melee all focus is shattered. Where once we propelled our vessel forward with the guided purposefulness of a patriot missile, we now bobbed, mentally rudderless, as our ever watchful enemy, the tide, swept us mercilessly and prematurely across the starting line.
We turn around to clear ourselves and re start. No words, silence as we gybe around and harden up for the first beat. We focus back to our quest, quietly, intuitively working the boat to a single digit finish that race and third in the last race. Highly respectable in general and quite victorious in specific with me and my private sense of joy at our beautiful teamwork and togetherness. Glory is in the heart I say.
Melvin PasnosczkiEditor's note: What you have read above represents the last communiqué of the now at-large Melvin Pasnosczki. Two days before we were set to go to print, I made my annual pilgrimage to the Arkham Institute for the Criminally Insane to retrieve an article that Melvin promised would be "lyric beyond description" and would "blow the roof off of those puritanical bastards' house of cards". He had been less than forthcoming in identifying the puritanical bastards he was referring to, but this quickly became irrelevant. When I arrived at his room, the scene I beheld was utter chaos. At best guess, over 167 individual fires had been set in various parts of his 8 by 12 cell, and it was only by pure luck that I arrived in time to extinguish his smoldering 1938 Smith-Corona typewriter with the remnants of my diet coke, and save the majority of the article you have just read. Melvin, however, was nowhere to be found.
Moore News is a publication of the Moore 24 National Association
and the Santa Cruz Moore 24 fleet. It is published by whoever can be
conned into the job. Unless otherwise noted, all references to persons
alive or dead are purely accidental.
| ||||||||||||||||
Either way, officials at both Moore 24 headquarters and the State Department were responding with caution to the recent release of one of Baghdad's most provocative threats since it signed on with Iran's proclamation of a death warrant towards author Salman Rushdie, for the publication of his novel, The Satanic Verses.
Proclaiming as "Both vulgar and heretical" the practice of sailing a Moore 24 during the holy month of Ramadan, Hussein called upon all members of the Muslim faith to "...cleanse the world of this vile scourge, and once again re-claim the respect and piety which Allah so justly deserves".
Security officials were at a loss to explain why Saddam had chosen to single out the Moore 24 fleet as an outlet for his wrath, but many agreed that this was nothing to dismiss out of hand. One official, speaking on condition of anonymity summed up the situation this way; "Given Hussein's diminished capacity for mayhem at any level, this seems like just another round of smoke blowing on his part. On the other hand, we've gravely underestimated his intentions in the past, so I believe that at the very least, an ounce of prevention is warranted here".
When contacted, Moore 24 fleet president Joel Verutti vowed to "take every step necessary to ensure the security of all Moore sailors, both on and off the waters". Speaking from the West Wing of his Corralitos estate, Verutti further added that, "As of 6 am this morning I have officially re-activated the Moore 24 security team, loosely known in intelligence circles as the MC-5. This will present us with what may well be a substantial financial burden, but until such time as we can be certain of our fleet's safety, no cost should be considered too dear".
Verutti's actions were greeted in Washington with both praise and caution. Renowned in the past for both their effectiveness and their excessively destructive nature, many at the Capitol fear that the reformation of the MC-5 could create at least as much mayhem as it is charged to prevent. Reminiscing over the early seventies, one congressman said, "I seem to recall a particularly nasty tropical storm literally leveling the southern portion of one of our Central American neighbors. It wasn't until twenty years later that, through the Freedom of Information Act, we learned that this storm was in fact a covert operation gone terribly awry. Oh sure, no names were mentioned, but more than a few of us smelled the hand of the MC-5 down there. Thankfully, a generous aid package served to mend the necessary fences, or God knows where we'd be today".
Verutti conversely scoffs at what he deems "lily-livered politicians playing Russian roulette with my people." He further made an impassioned call for all Moore 24 fleet members to lend their support by sending in their 1999 membership dues as soon as possible, and added in closing, "We cannot wait while our elected officials debate the virtue of our security, we must be prepared to act, and act immediately."