A gathering of Morgans

By Capt. Steve Ligeikis

Like at a family reunion, I was privileged to attend the 19th Annual Morgan Invasion, on October 2nd., at the invitation of Bob Horan. What a great crowd of Morgan Brothers and Sisters met at Treasure Island tennis & Yacht Club, near Clearwater Florida. It certainly will further my pleasant sea memories , and at 71 yrs old, I enjoy them. though I was supposed to meet Bob as the treasure Island Tennis & Yacht Club on the 2nd, he called me Friday morning with a slight problem about 5 miles from his destination at the Club. It seems Bob met Mr. Murphy at the same time his boat trailer hit a little bump going over a small bridge. Guess what? All Mr. Murphy did was point his finger at one of Bob's trailer axles - the axle broke off clean as a whistle right next to the spring shackle and off came the wheel spindle and all, waving bye-bye past Bob's truck.

I arrived about two hours later to find Bob sweating profusely in a hot parking lot with his propped up broken rig, hoping he would have solved his problem by the time I go there. Instead he was busy replacing a flat tire for a nice looking German blond who had only 3 good lugs to hold the spare on. After we got rid of the blonde, who by the way was also a-pointed by Mr. Murphy, we got serious about the wheel less trailer. After hack sawing off the old shackles and dumping the axle into Bob's truck we started asking around and several options were presented. We killed nearly 3 hours exploring options. We met a shop owner who had trailer parts but not exactly what we needed. Bob was very kind and patient with this shop owner who was about as pleasant as walking through a blackberry patch on a moonless night. Out of respect for Bob, I avoided telling this man a thing or two. Later, within walking distance of the trailer breakdown, we found a welding shop.

Save-The-Day! The welder was able to place an insert into the broken axle, weld it all together and presto, we were back in business. Bob mentioned to me while we waited approximately one half hour for the welder to complete the job, that he thought he'd tip him $5.00, since he took this job as an emergency. I said, "let's see first what the bill is" When the welder said $40.00, Bob and I both figured the $5.00 tip was included. All in all Bob got away with less than $80 for the damage, which I think was quite OK considering the situation. Putting the trailer back together took another hour and Bob and I both know it would pay now to weld in reinforcement inserts or replace both axles before making another long trip.

Hooray! It's a bright Saturday morning and the Morgan Clan is eager to go off -shore and race! So is Capt Steve -- This is his first official race. Finally at age 71! My first race was quite by accident when I owned the Maggie". It involved the Bradenton Yacht Club "BYC". I had anchored near the mouth of the Manatee River and Tampa Bay several years ago. As always, I would throw in a whole mullet on a big hook for the night, hoping to wake up with a nice grouper. Instead, I was rudely awakened just before 09:00 by cussing sailors and loud horns on all sides. There must have been 100 or more boats - all sail, in every direction I looked! After shaking out the cob-webs, I decided I was in the middle of a sailboat race! What to do? I'm anchored, or so I thought. I went to the forward deck to check the anchor. What I found was that a shark about 6ft long had hooked onto my line over night then proceeded to tangle the anchor line such that he pulled me into the middle of a sailboat race. So much for my first sailboat race. On the plus side of racing, I can say it's God's truth that I once sailed by myself on lake Okeechobee according to the GPS at a registered speed of 15.8 MPH on the "Maggie" (42 ft Motor Sailor by Lindsey ) before the Genoa exploded. This was more than twice the hull speed of the boat. If Mr. Lindsey is still alive he should know this event happened with a rank amateur at the helm. I doubt he would ever have thought his design would go that fast. Also I doubt I'll ever again go that fast in a monohull sailboat. I think the wind speed at the time was about 50Mph. Hey! I was on a 42ft boat completely surrounded by land under full sail. What's the problem?

Anyway, back to the real race -- leaving the marina under motor power, skipper Bob immediately ordered sails-up. We had about 3 miles yet to get to Johns Pass which is the outlet to the open Gulf of Mexico. At this I knew Bob was seriously interested in doing well in this race. He further convinced me of this when we arrived at the start mark offshore. Mind you, I'm not well versed or experienced at sailboat racing, however I trusted Bob and Henry Francis who came on as crew to lead me in the ways of racing. Henry has a 30ft. Morgan in Chattanooga and came down for the event. Though I was a willing crewmember, I relied mostly on Skipper Bob and Henry

I first noticed the start line, which had about 40 Morgans of various sizes from about 60ft to 22 ft. All pointing South near the line. Next on the VHF came announcements from the committee boat advising the number of seconds left for certain size or class boats to get up to the line then, Boom! The cannon went off and the race was on. I never did quite understand which boats were supposed to start upon cannon fire. I only know this, when all boats were pointed South skipper Bob was steering West, between, in front of, and behind all south bound boats on a port tack. I finally said to Skipper Bob, "You are scaring the pants of me" this gentleman to me had become a dangerous tiger. He told me of, Right of Ways, Taking wind from opponents sails, etc. My interest and his at this time were not coinciding. I did my best to hold my tongue. Further more, he would pick on or challenge oats big enough to cut him in half. This happened several times. One skipper gave us some choice explicative to chew on, worse; I thought another was going to lob tomatoes at us. We passed his bow close enough for me to see his brown eyes. He also took a swipe with his boat hook. Skipper Bob told me to "Have no fear" We were "well within the rules of sailboat racing". "That's fine but what about Col-Regs??"

At first we got a slow start with only a 100 jib in 1-3kt winds, the last 2 legs were faster. Skipper Bob maneuvered ahead of many boats. We could see Clearwater to the North and Egmont Key to the South. We made a respectable showing except for the start and finish, both of which were hazardous to me. I mentioned "Hazardous Gregg" to Bob and he informed me there is no comparison between them. Since I have yet to meet Hazardous Greg, I must give Bob the benefit of the doubt.

At the finish line we were in a four boat race - not a boat length difference. All four tacked back and forth several trying to make the last 50 yards to the line. Certainly was exciting. Next time Bob, remind me to lower the centerboard so we can out point those big boats. I'm not sure how the official race results came out, I only know we had a real good private race with about 5 boats heading back to the dock. We won didn't we Bob??

Thanks for the good time, Bob, The camaraderie and just sailing on the sea in a sailboat keeps me happy. By the way, "that Linda Jean is some boat"!

Steve Ligeikis