Secretary’s Message                              

Fall is here, although the weather belies the season. I hope that everyone has had a wonderful sailing season. Please plan to attend the Fall Banquet on November 10. At the Banquet, the Board has something special in store for all who participated in the racing series.

In this month's newsletter, you will find more interesting tales from our members in our continuing series.

 If I can be of assistance, please let me know. If you have input for the newsletter or a story to share, please e-mail me at tbk296@aol.com.

Happy Sailing,

Tracie

 Upcoming Events

Fall Banquet:

 The Blue Valley Yacht Club invites you to the 2001 Annual Fall Banquet on Saturday, November 10 at 6:00pm in the Flint Hills Room at the Kansas State University Student Union. This event celebrates the conclusion of the 2001 sailing season with a gathering of friends and the awarding of trophies for this year's racing series.  There will also be a business meeting and a presentation of the Long-Range Plan detailing alternatives for improvements to the Club's premises.  Important issues pertaining to the Club's future will be addressed, and input from the membership is vital.   The cost of the dinner is $13.75 per person, payable the night of the banquet.  Please make your reservations no later than Thursday, November 1st with Ned Gatewood at ngatewd@ksu.edu or, 539-8804.

 Also thank you to Ken Conrow for serving as Racing Chair and doing such a fine job. Ken has arranged a special surprise for all who participated in the racing series, so be certain to attend the Fall Banquet.

A Special Thank You:

As was noted in the previous Newsletter, John Willis took it upon himself a couple of months ago to install a flag pole on the shelter - a greatly appreciated addition.  Again, John is due another big thanks for two more outstanding additions he has made to the Club facilities. John built some steps in front of the shelter, making it easier to get from the shelter down to the water.  John also placed some wood fencing around the trash cans, thereby making this very visible area a lot more attractive.  What a great idea!  Why didn't someone else think of that sooner?

News from the Rear Commodore-

1.       The dock will be partially dismantled for winter maintenance; projected date-right after the Fall Banquet.  If any member needs to use it in taking boats out of the water, they might want to keep the state of the dock in mind.  One project that will be undertaken will be to rearrange the flotation under the end dock, so that it can accommodate more persons without sinking.

2.  The Sea Scouts have received two pontoon boats (floats and decks) as donations.  The plan for one is to use it as a dinghy dock, attached to the present dock walkway, sticking out to the North.  The work barge will be kept on a mooring.  It is hoped that this arrangement will make dinghy rigging easier, and move small sailboat traffic into the relatively shallow water on the North side of the dock.  The end of the main dock and the area just off the launch ramp can then be kept free for arriving and departing keelboats. Henry Otto has details of this donation.  We certainly appreciate it and are excited about the mutual benefit that will accrue to the BVYC and to the Sea Scout Ship. 

Electricity at the Club: Thanks to the efforts of John Joehnk and Ken Hays, the lights will be on at the Club. More details about this new initiative will be provided at the Fall Banquet.

A Note from John Joehnk:

The Onan generator donated by Fritzson Auto Sales is up and running and ready to locate at the club.  I have asked for the  Corps of Engineer's approval of Ken's and my plan for underground wiring.  We should in the very near future have electricity at the club grounds.  The plan is to locate the gen set at the red shed and run the wire to the 2 sheds, dinghy park outlets and shelter outlets.  We would appreciate anyone who would like and has knowledge of wiring to feel free to volunteer to help. There is about 300 feet of underground cable for which we will use a ditch witch to dig and backfill with.  There will be a GFI (ground fault interrupt) breaker at the box on the gen set stand.  This is a quality gen set, Electric start, muffled, but people will need to go to the red shed to start and stop the gen set.

Tales from the Past

As told by Carl Hinrichs, Ken Conrow, and a brief tale from Maarten van Swaay

Since Tracie has asked for memories of yacht club happenings, Ken and I want to share our memories of a past blowout.  Ken's account of the Milford blowout reminded me of another eventful day.  At my age my long term memory may be a bit hazy but the day is etched clearly. 

 It must have been the summer of 1976 on a beautiful weekend day that four of us decided to sail up the lake as far as time would allow and return.  The fleet consisted of Ken Conrow in his Banshee, and Marti and Harriet Ottenheimer and young children, visitors John and Karen Corkill, and us, Carl and Edith Hinrichs all in Sweet 16's.  The day was perfect as we left with a moderate breeze propelling us up the lake.  The sky was azure blue except for a small black cloud that must have been centered up near Marysville.  It hung there for our entire up-lake leg.  After we passed Blue River Hills the wind began to diminish and we turned back for the club before we were adrift in our motorless craft.  Three of us stayed on the southwest shore while the Stockards headed for the opposite one in search of more wind.  As reached the mouth of Stockdale cove the Stockards had found some wind and were significantly ahead.  The Corkills were in the lead boat in our group with us next, the Ottenheimers behind us and Ken not far in the rear.  I was laying back on the seat with the tiller over my shoulder.  Edith was tending the jib which was winged out on the pole.  Suddenly I saw John Corkill look back, become agitated, and yell something to Karen who immediately grabbed for the whisker pole.  I didn't even turn around but yelled for Edith to do the same.  Within a matter of about 3 seconds the wind went from perhaps 3 to about 35 knots.  The sky became inky dark.  We bore off on a reach and I looked around to see the Ottenheimers’ boat complete a pitch pole.  I didn't know where Ken was.  I tried to head back to the Ottenheimers but it was useless.  By now the waves were so high that when we were in a trough we couldn't see the far shore.   Our only hope was to head for the cove and summon help from a power boat but that was directly down wind.  We had no choice but to reach for the far shore and then back to the cove.  Somehow we managed to survive the screaming planes and arrived at the club to find that the Stockards had already made it and that the Tom Manney was headed out under power in his Santana for the rescue operation.  Later we found that the Ottenheimers had impaled their mast in the lake bottom.   I believe that Harriet and the kids wound up under the hull.  An hour or so later all boats were safely back at the club, the sailors thoroughly shaken.

 Notes from Ken Conrow: When I saw the wind coming I took off on a broad reach and met Tom coming antiparallel close hauled under jib alone, looking like an experienced ocean goer, so he reached Ottenheimer's pretty quickly. Corkhill and I and maybe John Stockard went up to get the Ottenheimer's boat out of the trees after the wind abated and we just abandoned it in its tangled state high in the dinghy park.

And lastly, Tom Manney commented that he had to drop anchor up wind and belay back to the Ottenheimers.  Harriet and the children were on the overturned hull with Marti in the water.  The trio were afraid to leave the safety of the hull but Marti managed to heave the kids up to Tom and then the parents followed. 

I suppose the moral of this story is to watch all points of the compass for sudden changes in weather.  This is Kansas.  Anyone want to here about the Springfield Missouri blowout?   

 Maarten's Tale: A sailing experience from very long ago       

In my student days, about a half century ago, at least part of the summer was filled with sailing trips along and across the waterways of the Netherlands.  In particular there was lake IJssel, then an expanse of freshwater about 25 miles across, but now largely converted into farmland.  My parents let me sail a racing machine with 3000 lbs lead below water, and 45 ft of mast (wood, hollow, profiled and curved) above.  The hull measured about 35 ft bow to stern but barely more than 7 ft of beam;  it took diligence and a nimble crew to sail her, but in good wind she would fly.

One of the trips started as a weekend sail from Amsterdam to Hoorn. I came to remember it much better after a reminder only a few years ago. Hoorn is a gorgeous medieval place a few hours of sailing due North from Amsterdam, with the island of Marken in between.  After getting through the locks East of Amsterdam we set the genoa to catch the prevailing SW summer wind, and enjoyed the good life, first with lunch, then with afternoon tea.

Nearing the end of the course we started on dinner, peeling potatoes, lighting the Primus stove (with alcohol to preheat it), and watching the pressure cooker to keep it in place.  Potatoes take only ten minutes that way, and they don't steam up the cabin.  But we did not get them done:  some weather geared up behind us.

By the time we had stowed the pan and the Primus we were flying, uncomfortably so.  The genoa had to come down, but that took some planning and some doing.  One of the crew, John van Ligten, was light enough to earn a reputation as cox for the varsity rowing team in Leyden;  he went forward to pull down the genoa.  The boat was rigged with a jib stay and a top stay, about a foot apart.  John sat down between them, and proceeded to gather the genoa as it was lowered by Ed van Hasselt, the other crew member.  Each wave we encountered washed over John's head, and each time he came back up unfazed.

With the genoa down we could luff, bring out the anchor, and take down the mainsail.  After that, all we had to do was wait and ride out the blow.  The boat seemed to be dragging a bit, but I gave it little thought at the time:  we had a few miles of water downwind.  Pretty soon the blow passed, we set sail and made for Hoorn, where we found a friendly harbor master, good moorings, an evening drink and a good night's sleep.  The harbor master did admit to some concern because he had lost sight of us.  That is understandable:  a mahogany hull with less than 2 ft of freeboard leaves little to see when the water moves.

The story would end there, except for an unexpected refresher in 1998.  Shortly after that trip I left for graduate study in the U.S., and largely lost touch with my fellow students in Leyden. But at our 50-year reunion I reconnected with both van Ligten and van Hasselt, and heard two things for the first time.  After they paid out all the anchor chain we had on board, about 100 ft, they wound up ... with the anchor in their hands.  No wonder we
dragged a bit.  But not much:  water depth there is no more than 10 ft, so we had plenty of weight on the bottom to keep us lined up.
Also, van Hasselt admitted to me, almost 50 years later, that he had feared for his life on that trip.  He never showed it at the time.

We still use the pressure cooker ....