Revenge, served Hoofer-style

A true story. One July day in 2004, the wind was screaming out of the southwest at 25kn. Although I already had my J heavy, I couldn't resist weather like this, so I left work early and raced to the lakefront, hoping to get a ride. Sure enough, someone had cancelled and there was space on a J22 lesson. Twenty minutes later, four of us were popping the chute and blasting out of the mooring field: myself, two newbies, and Drew Wilson, the Vice Commodore and an avid sailor--on dinghies and scows. How did he get hired to teach J lessons..? No matter. I was an experienced keelboat sailor, so if we got into trouble, yippee!

The next two hours flew by. After a couple of spinnaker runs, it was already time to douse. By now Drew was fairly pissed at me for giving orders. I wasn't trying to show him up, but he clearly hadn't sailed much in heavy weather, at least not on the J's, so I was naturally giving directions when necessary. But it was his lesson, and he had me standing on the transom now, just watching. What happened next was unclear.

As we raced into picnic bay, Drew tried to explain how to douse. There was something about blowing the guy, something about the sheet. Was it windward or leeward..? It didn't look like the crew were ready, but I was just an observer at this point. Suddenly, the chute was flying like a kite from the top of the mast, and Drew went berserk.

"What the f---!!" he screamed at one of the crew. "Why did you let go of the sheet?!"

Dumb stares all around. Too bad Drew had shut me up. I could have said something before the students did their naughty. We sailed in circles as people on shore shouted and laughed. Finally--after putting on a good show--we managed to catch one of the sheets and pulled the thing down. Drew didn't say any more to me until after we had docked.

When the other crew were out of earshot, he turned to me. "This was your fault," he sputtered.

"What?!" I laughed. "You were the instructor."

"You have a J rating, so you were responsible too." That might have been true had Drew not told me to shut up. Now he had to blame someone for his incompetence. Indeed, he was extra pissed because he wasn't a keelboater and was only teaching on the J's by virtue of his position as VC. In Hoofarts, it's not what you know but whom. Plus, he had got an earful when we landed, from people who didn't like seeing an expensive spinnaker handled like that. Drew would have his revenge soon enough, though.

The following weeks saw more strong southerly winds, and one day I took the J out with a friend. He was a sailor too, and a good one. The two of us rode the chute across the lake under puffy clouds, then beat our way back. It was a fantastic sail. As we approached the mooring field, a motorboat raced toward us. This was odd. As it got closer, I saw that it was Drew.

"Your ratings are suspended for a week!" he screamed from fifty yards away. "It's yellow flag and you don't have a skipper rating!"

Huh? I certainly did have a skipper rating, albeit on the larger keelboats. Wasn't that enough, combined with my heavy rating on the J's..? I'd checked the radar before we left and no weather was coming. None did either. Only the vengeful Drew. He had been keeping an eye on me, studying my ratings, waiting for the tiniest slip-up so he could get back at me for that J lesson he messed up. And now he had his revenge.

NOTE: this is a true story but the names have been changed.