Things had been really crazy for us this summer when on July 12th Rich called and said, “We are going to race tonight and Joe needs you to crew too. Myra isn’t available.” My hesitation was brief as I could kind of tell it was a husband plea. Besides I’d never let our good friend Joe down. After a two hour drive to Olympia I met Joe and Rich at the OYC dock at about 1900 with some trepidation and excitement.

I have only been on a few races and consider my job to be primarily ballast, sometimes puff spotter, and on rare occasions other jobs. This time I also got to mark the start and finish. It was 2000 when we crossed the start. The sun was shimmering on the water, the wind was blowing just right. It was just perfect in all ways. It was one of those moments when you reflect on how wonderful and beautiful life can be. I sat on the upside of one of the longest tacks I’ve been on, with my face in the sun and my heart taking it all in; knowing that I would not forget this time. We were averaging 6-7 knots and had fairly steady wind. We came around the corner and Captain Joe gauged the turn just right as we went to starboard of Hope Island, holding the tiller, while I read out the depth, and Rich trimmed just another perfect maneuver, i.e. we didn’t go aground in the shallows. Coming around Hope and thinking that when the sun disappeared behind the Olympics it would get cold and the wind would die; we were counting on the tide change to help us.

We got a tiny bit of a lull and grabbed a bite to eat. Surprise within minutes the wind picked up and the food went down. Rather than dying the wind continued to increase, it stayed warm, and we started to move pretty darn fast. We were really only on our second or third tack of the trip so far. If you want specific sailing details, talk to Joe, they don’t stick in my head. Could be why I have the ballast job. I was so excited because Joe was excited that the conditions were perfect and that we were making such awesome time.

I started to feel this satisfying and maybe even arrogant exhilaration to be on the water and part of this incredible evening. It was starting to darken as we rounded the corner and headed toward Olympia. The wind picked up even more and became steadily gusty with some real strong ones from the west. I had to really work on my ballast moves then. Rich was working the traveler and sails like crazy, Joe was hanging onto the tiller and finessing the trim and boat to keep us on a great long tack that would take us right over the finish line. I think we were moving up to 7.5 knots at times. I was doing my best ballast act and puff calling ever while willing us to stay as flat as possible and move like an eagle intent on a salmon. I was anxiously waiting to spot the line and call the finish while praying that the wind wouldn’t die before we crossed. Then, thank you, there it was, the light I needed to prepare for lining up the finish.

Oh my God we just blew across the line and the wind held for about five more minutes and then died completely. We took down the sails and night really settled in. We motored in, higher, not artificially either, than kites.

I believe it was our time, Joe was ecstatic that the boat rarely sailed slower than six knots the whole evening, Rich was grinning ear to ear, and I had just had the best day of my summer. And I was right: it looks like our race is the one to beat this year. Did I say the best day of my summer? Did I say exhilarating? Did I say thank you enough captain Joe Downing for a ride of my life?

Michelle Aguilar-Wells