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Here Come the OptisBy William S. SchaillHere come the Optimists,the little pramswidely used for entrylevel kids’ sailing programs.During the weekyou’ll see them sailingaround an instructor’sboat or practicing capsizing.On weekends you’llfind them at regattas.Wherever the Optis go,you’ll find action. Anddrama.Imagine yourself aboard the committeeboat at an Opti regatta. There’sa light, but building wind, a slightswell and everywhere you look yousee Optis. Today, 112.The Optis are divided into threefleets—Red, Blue and White—basedon age. While they wait for the start,they scoot madly in all directions likelittle water bugs. There are collisionsgalore but little damage because Optistend to bounce.A horn sounds.“Five minutes,” bellows a memberof the race committee. “That’s thefive-minute warning, Red fleet.” Theracers are supposed to know the signals,but many committees help out alittle, especially at the beginning of theseason and with younger skippers.The kids with red streamers attheir mastheads check their watchesand start to jockey for position.“Number 4974,” bellows the committeemember, “this is a start for theRed fleet. You’re in the White fleet, sostand clear of the starting line!”Number 4974 continues to glidealong the starting line. He may nothave heard. Or he may not recognizehis own number. Or he may not besure what exactly to do.“4974, this is a Red start. You areWhite. Please stand clear of the startingline!”4974 continues on, oblivious. Thenhe reverses course and heads rightback along the line again.“4974, Get off the starting line!”The message finally gets through,and 4974 turns out of the way.The countdown continues. By thelast minute of the sequence most of theRed fleet is “running the line.” Theshouts of “Starboard!” and “Get out ofthere!” and “Oh, hi! I didn’t know youwere going to be here,” are almost continuous.As are the collisions, near andotherwise.A gun fires. The entire Red fleetturns up into the wind, almost as one,and heads for the first mark.It’s time for the Blues, the nextyounger fleet. This start goes exceptionallywell. Much to everybody’ssurprise, the start of the White fleet,the youngest and biggest, is almost asorderly, although a number of boatscross the line about five minutes afterthe gun.The committee, exhausted, takes afew minutes to rummage through thecooler while an armada of safety boatswatch over the racers.Half an hour later, the gun fires asthe first boat of the Red fleet crossesthe line. The winner swings by thecommittee boat to receive a spent shotgunshell, the informal prize for thewinner of individual races.As the Blue fleet is finishing, one ofthe instructors notices a White fleetOpti which has wandered far off thecourse and is sailing very erratically.She realizes she’s the closest safety boatso she goes to investigate. She finds agirl of about 10—soaked in sweat andreduced to tears of frustration—screaming “I hate it! I hate it! I hate allof this!” as the Opti tries to sail itself.Oh, God, thinks the instructor asshe pulls alongside and grabs theOpti’s gunnel. This kid wasn’t ready.“Not a great day, huh?” asks theinstructor.The girl looks at her, not screaminganymore but still muttering“I hate it. I hate it. Ihate it.”“Listen, I’ve got theOpti and everything’sokay so let go of thesheet—just let the sailflap—and sit down in thebottom of the boat. Thentake five real deep breathsfor me. Real deep.”The girl’s face is stillswollen and teary, but shenods her agreement.“I’ve got some sodas here,” continuesthe instructor while still holdingthe Opti. “Coke, orange, ginger ale orroot beer?” While the kid sips thesoda, and becomes calmer, the instructorreports to the committee and asksthat an instructor from the girl’s programcome and take charge.By now most of the Red and Bluefleets, and about half of the Whitefleet, have finished. The wind hasfilled in, but the second set of startsgoes even better than the first.At the third Red fleet start, it’sclear that many boats have withdrawn.Among the starters is a boywho insists, for some neverexplainedreason, on wearing hisPFD inside his windbreaker. A powerfulgust hits the boy shortly beforethe start. As his Opti heels more andmore, he hikes out farther and farther,fighting to hold the boat down.Then he’s totally out of the boat,lying on its high side. Is that a grin ora grimace on his face?If anybody ever deserved to winthis skirmish with the elements, hedoes. But despite his efforts, the boatlurches again and continues on over.You can almost hear the sound of solidwater pouring over the lee rail!But this kid’s not going to bestopped by a little water. He slithersback into the boat and starts bailinglike a demon. Two minutes later, hesloshes across the starting line, hisbailer flashing and water flying in alldirections.The White fleet that starts thatSee OPTIS continued on page 6870 SOUTHWINDS www.southwindsmagazine.com