Every Wednesday evening, between about six P.M. to about seven or so, a number of sailboats gather to chase each other around on the bay, celebrating the middle of the week and other pleasures. In the old days we used to use it to drink
beer underway and hurl
water balloons at each other, calling the event "Wet Wednesday", until balloons became listed as terrorist weaponry and were banished.
This week, as I was sitting in the yacht club bar, we heard that ominous pattern of deep-toned whistle blast, five in a row, signaling that something big was concerned about someone else's seamanship. A few minutes later we saw the enormous bulk of a car carrier, slowly steaming past Shelter Island. There was no more drama, so we figured it was all a demonstration of a concerned pilot for all those little
boats in the vessel's path. It was actually something more ominous.
One sailboat, under
spinnaker, was blissfully passaging down the middle of the deep
water channel, oblivious to the rights of the larger vessel constrained by
draft and the laws of physics regarding inertia. Then things got dicey. Someone on the sailboat, reportedly the
skipper, fell off the
boat after the horn blasts. The ship made an
emergency turn to starboard, goosing its engines to swing the stern and avoid
collision. In the meantime, the crew of the sailboat was able to recover its crewmember and evade the
hull of the car carrier.
The ramifications are forthcoming. Reportedly, the
racer has been barred from competing for a year. The Coasties are investigating for further possible penalties, and the
skipper may be held responsible for the
cleaning costs of the underwear of the car carriers bridge crew. Good thing no was carrying water balloons.