TELLTALE

October 2023

PERIODIC NEWSLETTER OF THE 

Port Oliver Yacht Club

THE LAKE CLEAN-UP

The Lake Clean-up was a success in that Allan Janes, Kevin Klarer, and I showed up.  We used the Committee Boat to transport a lot of children and several adults around our end of the Lake picking up all manner of trash that had blown up on the shore around where we normally sail. We were also able to get rid of the large orange highway barriers that had floated into our cove.  The Corps had lost them and were especially glad to get them back.  We all wore our POYC shirts and made sure that the Corps knew we were there to support them and our lake.  Our passenger children and their parents had a really good time.  On the inbound trip we let the older children ride on the upper deck sitting down.  I took the occasion to tell them what we did with the Committee Boat and tout sailing to them.  We then went to the food and prizes festival down at the swimming beach.  Terry Williams did show for the food and drink.  But, importantly, he and the rest of the Crew were wearing our most flamboyant POYC shirts. The food was pizza from Page’s Pizzas.  All you could eat and all the soft drinks you could drink. The pizza was unusually good tasting.  After a group photo in which the POYC was in the front row, they handed out prizes.  Two little boys each won very fancy kayaks.  Their excitement was fun to watch.  We made sure that the Corps knew that the POYC was there doing our part, and the Corps appreciated that.  

CORRECTION

In the September Telltale I wrote regarding the Karl Million Regatta that, “Dado Basic with the help of Leeloo Basic and Willa Basic and just a little help from Terry Williams, on Dado’s Catalina 22 took second place.”   WRONG!  The TRUTH was that Terry was the skipper of his own Catalina 22, S/V Resurgam which he skippered amazingly well to come in second.  After all, Terry has only been sailing since this summer.  Dado, Leelou, and Walla were crew.  Sorry, Terry, I was fighting to right a sunfish while you zoomed past.

COMING EVENTS

Ach Du Liebe!! We are going to have an Oktoberfest, in October.  Yep, the second weekend of the month (10/14 and 15) will be a genuine Oktoberfest with brats, kraut, und beer!  Prepared by our own Herr Brandon Cook.  Yummy!   Those dressed in Ledderhosen for men and Drinnel Dresses for ladies will get extra brats and beer.  

Also that weekend, 10/14 and 15 will be the Great Minnow Regatta.  Yes, two days of racing.  I have to go to a family reunion that weekend, so other racers will have a prime opportunity to win.  Bragging? Of course, but you will see one of these days.

[Repeat] How did we get a regatta called, of all things, the Great Minnow Regatta?  Cecil Etheredge was a prominent Thistle racer and was eager that the Club start having races.  But other Members questioned whether the Club could actually pull off a full two-day regatta.  So it was decided to start with a single-day regatta, a Minnie regatta.  Cecil also had connections with the Glasgow newspaper and used those connections to get some publicity for the Club and the race.  The copyeditor of the newspaper thought that Minnie was just a misprint so he “corrected” in to Minnow.  Since we were so hungry for any publicity, we just adopted the name, the Great Minnow Regatta, and have used the unusual name ever since.

Keep in mind that the Great Minnow is a two-day race.  One day of blind luck will not get the job done.  You have to exhibit some consistency to win this regatta.  If you have any interest in racing or learning to race, this the one to join.  I urge you, don’t miss this regatta.

After the first day of racing and the Oktoberfest, we will have our October meeting.  Somebody please take notes.  If you have something radical you want to get adopted by the Club, with the Members full on brats and beer and tired from the first day of racing, this might be the best meeting to bring it up. Otherwise just come and enjoy.

NAUTY CAL LANGUAGE

UNDER WAY and MAKING WAY:  It seems like nit-picking, but the Coast Guard and the Admiralty Courts take it very seriously.  If you are made fast to a permanent dock, you are not underway. Our docks probably do qualify.  But if you are anchored you are underway.  This doesn’t make sense unless you realize that an anchored vessel can move around.  If you are not anchored and just drifting in the current, if course, you are underway.  If you are using any means, oars, paddles, poles, motors, or sails to move your vessel you are making way.  So if your vessel is not under way, e.g., tied up at a dock, your liability is pretty light.  If you are under way, you do have some liability but not much, depending on the circumstances.  But, on the other hand, if you are making way, you have full responsibility for whatever your vessel does.  It is somewhat similar to owning a dog.  Caged or locked up, very slight liability; on a leash, depends on how you manage the dog; running free, you are responsible for any damage.

LAST CLEAR CHANCE:  This a concept that is used in the common law.  If another person runs a stop light, can I go ahead and hit his car?  No.  I have to make every effort to avoid the collision even when the other party has violated a law.  Regarding vessels, the concept is even more strictly applied.  If your boat is hit by another boat, you need to be prepared to tell the Coast Guard why you could not have taken any action to avoid the collision.  Even though the other vessel should not have put you in a bind, you are essentially assumed to be guilty until you can prove that there was no way for you to “dodge the bullet.”  Unfair, perhaps, but that is the approach used by the Coast Guard. 

NOBLE A. “BUD” BURFORD

Often members who have joined the Yacht Club in the last few years are not aware of those major characters who formed and shaped the Club as long ago as fifty-seven years.  That is doubly unfortunate.  Those who worked hard to make it possible for us to enjoy such a great sailing club are not given the credit they deserve.  Equally as bad, the newer members do not get to know the fascinating men and women who lived our history.  This is a deficiency that ought to be corrected by the “plank owners” and other gray-beards who can still remember the past, or at least spin tales that are marginally believable.  A “plank owner” is the name given to sailors who serve in the first crew of a newly launched Navy vessel.  That is why the little park over near our “work station” is referred to as the Plank Park (technically incorrect other than the original organizers, but with all of the past commodores and in need of updating.) 

In 1966 Bud Burford, Paul Huddleston (Bud’s attorney), Joe Mayfield (Bud’s neighbor), Joe Huddleston (Bud’s attorney),), and Don Mayfield (Bud’s neighbor) got together to officially form the Port Oliver Yacht Club.  The federal government had just announced that it was going to create a flood-control lake on the Barren River.  Since the dam would be located near the tiny community of Port Oliver, so named because it was the jumping-off point for boats carrying produce down the River, the lake was initially to be called Port Oliver Lake.  The Founders took the name of the Club from the proposed name of the Lake, but that name was also intended to be a joke.  The Port Oliver community was even smaller than it is today, and the largest “yacht” in the Club was Bud’s Y-Flyer at 18 feet.  Compare that to the New York or Chicago Yacht Clubs. 

It is fair to say that Bud was the instigator.  He had infected his neighbors on Highland Drive, Joe Mayfield and his son, Don, with the sailing bug early on.  Then he drew Paul Huddleston in by selling him Bud’s old, wooden Star, a two-person Olympic keelboat (kind of like learning to drive in a racecar).  Paul’s son, Joe, was soon captivated, followed shortly by Philip and Lee when they got home from college.

Bud had been sailing for a long time.  We need to call on his son, John Burford, and daughter, Alice Burford, both current members of the Club, to fill us in on how Bud got started in sailing.  It would be a living example of the “butterfly effect” of chaos theory where a small event has long-range consequences well beyond what might be expected.  Whoever got Bud sailing got hundreds, if not thousands, of others into our great sport through a ripple effect.  Bud’s quiet enthusiasm and enjoyment were perfect for attracting people to sailing.  He was so good at it, he made it seem like the easiest thing in the world.

My first introduction to Bud was on Old Hickory Lake in Tennessee.  I was crewing for my father, Paul, along with my mother, on “Mica,” the Star (“mica” is Latin for “twinkle;” isn’t that cute?).  Barren River Lake had not been impounded yet so Old Hickory was the closest lake to Bowling Green.  Bud came sailing by on his Y-Flyer.  At his invitation I stepped over onto his boat to watch how he sailed his boat.  Bud started sharing his enormous wealth of experience and knowledge of sailing.  That was the beginning of a long, steep learning curve for me.

One of the factors that contributed to Bud’s exceptional experience and sailing expertise was his work situation.  His family owned large tobacco warehouses in Bowling Green and North Carolina.  From September until after January he worked long and hard buying, selling, and brokering the major cash crop in Kentucky and North Carolina.  From February to August, while the tobacco was being grown, there was not as much for Bud to do.  This made it possible for him to devote serious time and energy to racing sailboats all over the country.  He sailed the Star “Mica” out of KenLake Sailing Club on Kentucky Lake.  They had a large and very competitive Star class that raced almost every week. 

Fortunately for the Huddleston family, the Star fleet got disbanded at KenLake when a hoist used to launch these keelboats collapsed, seriously injuring a sailor.  Bud sold his Star to Paul Huddleston and then moved on to his Y-Flyer.  As an easily trailerable boat, the Y-Flyer made it possible for Bud to range even farther in racing sailboats.  On several occasions Bud raced in the Y-Flyer nationals.

Bud told me a story of racing his Y-Flyer on the Mississippi River near Saint Louis.  Bud realized that the wind had dropped so that the boats were sailing, but not fast enough to overcome the swift current.  He quietly slipped a small anchor over the side of his boat and held it with his hand.  This is legal as long as you don’t use the anchor to move forward.  With Bud stationary in the current, he began to “pass” boats left and right.  Fortunately, no one was directly up-stream from him.  When the wind finally picked back up, Bud was able to retrieve the anchor and sail across the finish line, skunking the entire fleet.

Another “trick” that Bud taught me came from an experience on Lake Carlyle in Illinois.  The Lake is relatively round and the racecourse was set in the middle of the Lake.  It was an extremely hot day with hardly a breath of wind.  After the start Bud veered away from the racecourse and headed for the shore.  The air temperature was so hot that there was a slight land-effect right at the shore.  Due to the difference in the heating of water and ground, a very light breeze sometimes blows from the water toward the shore.  This is very common at the ocean but much less noticeable on a lake.  Bud was able to use the land-effect breeze and slowly sail all the way around the Lake then head back out to the finish line before any other boat even rounded the first mark.  

Many years later I was able to use Bud’s “trick” in the Kentucky 100 Mile Race.  It was another very hot day and what little breeze there was blew straight out of the North.  This was making everyone have to beat and beat for many hours on end to get to the finish line at the dam.  I sailed Orion over to the very edge of the Lake and heeled her over to leeward.  As Bud had predicted, the land-effect was just barely enough to bend the north wind slightly toward the shore.  This made it possible for us to ghost along going in and out with the shoreline, but essentially due north toward our objective.  The other boats were sailing much faster but covering many times our distance.  To our utter amazement after 31 hours of racing we were able to cross the finish line and win first place in our cruiser class, thanks to Bud.  Some of you may have seen my huge trophy with brass sea serpents holding up a large bell. 

Under Bud’s influence I bought a Y-Flyer. Bud’s Y-Flyer was wooden and ugly as a mud fence (turquoise and black because that just happened to be the color of paint he had handy when it came time to paint her).  My new Y-Flyer was fiberglass and quite pretty.  It had adjustable barberhaulers.  Yes, that was my reaction, too, “adjustable whats?”  Barberhaulers are essentially jib sheet fairleads that move athwartship to change the angle the sheet pulls on the jib.  (Aren’t you glad you know now?)  I asked Bud to tell me the secrets of how to adjust them.  His advice was, “Put them in the middle and leave them alone.  When you get to the nationals and can’t break into the top ten, then learn what to do.  Otherwise it will be like Nero.  You will be fiddling while I sail past you.”  And sail past me Bud did, time after time.  But every time he did I learned a little bit more.

Another “trick” that I learned from Bud was how to sail downwind in a Y-Flyer.  Bud’s advice was to get as far forward in the boat I could.  A Y-Flyer is a scow shaped boat, with a blunt bow and a shallow dish-like hull.  We used to have a whole fleet in the Club with a sister-fleet in Owensboro that occasionally came down to race us.  Now we only have one Y-Flyer offered for sale by Joe Brownfield.  By getting forward in the boat, the stern lifted out of the water (allowing the water to leave the hull with a gentle slope, and the bow tilted down to just above the on-coming water in front of the boat.  With the sail straight out to the side and the tiny jib drawing what wind it could, the Y-Flyer could ghost across the water very rapidly.  The only caveat was to keep your eye constantly on the bow.  If the bow dipped into the water, the bow would scoop up a ton of water within seconds converting your boat into a submarine before you could blink.  The normal reaction would be to rush to the stern.  But your movement aft would drive the boat forward, compounding the dilemma.  I have seen several Y-Flyers barreling along downwind suddenly disappearing under water.  Funny to watch but not to experience.  The trick that Bud showed me was in this situation to immediately throw the tiller to the side.  This would cause the boat to heal over, dumping the tons of water off of the bow, and then recommence sailing down wind.  

Bud, thanks for getting me and so many other people into sailing.  With joy we have all tried to pass along your enthusiasm, joy, and good sportsmanship.  And especially, thanks for sparking the creation and growth of the Port Oliver Yacht Club, a fitting memorial to you.

Lee Huddleston, Editor of the Telltale