06/10/2025
Seventy48 2025 for Team We Are A Laughing Roomba
Seventy48 number 7 is in the books. Number 7 was no different than 1 through 6 in that in the middle of the race the question always is why am I suffering through this again. However, with a partner for the second year in a row and a much tamer set of conditions than any I have experienced previously, I did not ask the question quite as frequently as before.
After seven times you would think this race would get old. However, unlike a road race on the same course where the road surface and hills are constant from year to year, open water races usually give you a different look every time just from the way the tides, currents, and wind play with and against each other. The surface can be flat and pushing you along one year and the next year the wind and current can be going against you the whole way providing you a race-long “uphill”. Yet another year the wind can be going one direction and the current another to build a nasty chop that must be battled to move - the equivalent of an auto road race where the road is full of pot holes of many different depths. Throw in night rowing where the moon might light up the water quite brightly or be a new moon with only ambient light to see your way. Then there is always fog - day or night it can be disaster if not prepared with proper navigation equipment and the sense to use it.
This year, the weather was quite mild for our time on the water (others behind us were not quite so lucky). We had a little opposing wind early in the race that affected the water a bit but it did not last long. The biggest nuisance was the slight opposing current that pushed against us most of the night. When I expected to be making good time with a slightly favoring current, we were only going at about 2/3 speed. We have a new boat that is much heavier than the shell we normally row. With this boat we will comfortably row 5-6 mph on quiet water. The whole night we were 3-4 mph.
Most years I can go on about a dozen or so things that negatively affected our row. Besides that nuisance of a current, the only big thing to hit us was the loss of our mast mounted on the stern of the boat. It carries our mirror and night light and attaches to our rudder. Haleigh was quite delighted to have a mirror to use so as to not have to be continuously turning around to check our heading. The mast was tiltable and had teeth to give several options for angle. We wanted straight up but that was not an option — just pitched a little either way. So we installed an adapter that let us set it at any angle. That gave way early in the race and Haleigh yelled “timber” as it fell back into the water behind us — still attached but now dragging. We were a mile or so off shore and it would take us a long time to get to shore dragging the mast so I crawled across the stern hatch as far as I dared to see if I could get the mast back up. I could not get both hands on it and one hand was not strong enough to pull it up with the equipment attached and the 6’ PVC full of water. Finally we decided I would just disassemble it. While rocking back and forth on the hatch with my toes gripping the lip on the gunnels, I was able to unscrew the mount and pull in the mast while managing to stay in the boat rather than joining the mast for a swim. So we lost our mirror and rudder and had to change our elevated night light to one strapped to Haleigh’s back.
That was the total of our unplanned excitement, assuming you don’t count the three hundred (give or take) changes of seat pads we went through and the three hundred (give or take) times my water supply ran right through me. We were getting quite good in our other boat of going for long rows and not needing to adjust seating or empty tanks. We only had a couple of weeks in this boat and nothing near the distance of this race. The seating is quite different and our cheeks paid the price of not having proper cushioning figured out. As for emptying the tanks, there is something about this night rowing I guess that messes with my system.
Now that I have showered you with the negatives — the positives. The start was fun as always with 104 craft of every configuration seemingly possible, starting at the same time; lots of rowers in boats of many shapes, sizes, and number of occupants, some with sliding seats, some with fixed seats; kayakers in sea kayaks and surf skis and many other variations; outrigger canoes, monstrous canoes holding a couple of base ball teams worth of paddlers, and good old summer camp canoes; pedal boats built on kayaks or on pontoons (and one with rowing stations); stand up paddle boards; and get this, a couple of large sailboats with pedal stations and rowing stations (wind power is not allowed in this race).
The skies were pretty clear all night and the nearly full moon was the best moon I have had in this race, lighting up the water until 2 a.m. when ambient light took over until dawn a couple of hours later. And dawn, so gorgeous!!
Our best stretch was leaving Point No Point 19 miles from the finish. We had clean water and a favoring current that pushed us for seven miles or so at 7-8 mph. We had not seen any other racers for a couple of hours and suddenly had two other boats as we rounded the point. An informal race to the finish was now on although I think we were both looking forward to a nice relaxed final stretch. A second race was the race to the Port Townsend Canal where the current was supposed to switch from favoring to opposing around 8 a.m.. We won both races, hitting the canal just as the current was switching but before it got any teeth (at max it would flow against us about the same speed we could row) and the race to the finish line. As we were approaching the finish line Haleigh asked if we had a big enough lead to readjust our seat pads for 300th time. I really wanted to change my pad also and reluctantly agreed while keeping a close eye on the very capable outrigger that had been right with us that whole stretch (I talked to him later and he was racing as well).
We landed 14 hours 41 minutes after starting and were greeted with lots of fanfare (announcer on speaker system, cow bells, yells, whistles) from the finish line crew and our support crew (wife Deb and husband Mike). Our finish line leader board showed us in 9th place - quite a surprise as we were assuming we would be somewhere in the teens. We found out later in the day during a chance conversation that we were the 2nd overall rowing team and since the first rower was awarded the first solo prize we would be given the first facing backward prize - a significant cash award. This is the second time I have backed into this award. The stars aligned one more time.
Now we have a few weeks to prepare for a sibling of this race — the WA360 race that starts in Port Townsend, circles the Olympia Shoal in Budd Inlet, goes through Bellingham and up to Point Roberts before returning through the San Juan’s to Port Townsend — 360 miles give or take. We have 14 days to finish it and expect it to take us 8-10 days. Sleeping will be part of this race (although Haleigh may claim I was sleep rowing for a while on this last race).
Final thought. There are not many of us who care to do and are capable of doing these kinds of adventures. I have been very lucky to have found a great friend and dedicated, gifted rowing partner to join me on these odysseys.