Sprinting Spawn of Frankenscot

Ninjee and TwoBeers rolling sails. Morsailesed (out of frame) is tying up the boat.

To the sound of cheering crowds (modern-day crowds, that is –– the noise a swellign crescendo of plasticky key clicks) Spawn of Frankenscot arrived safe and sound in Key Largo 1 day, 12 hours, and 46 minutes after starting the 2016 Everglades Challenge. 

They were the first boat to finish and they broke the previous monohull record by 12 hours. Click-click-click hurrah! Social media applauds!

Here's a gorgeous short video of the team –– shot by Ninjee's cousin Simon Lew via helicopter over the Gulf of Mexico.

They were fortunate in the conditions. The wind stayed mostly abeam or aft, so that they were running or reaching about 75% of the course, with only a few chunks of rowing against the tide (like at the Indian River Pass), and short slogs upwind with crew on the wire. 

All three –– though they know better –– removed their drysuits on Saturday in anticipation of a hot, light-air afternoon off Sarasota.  

Of course, the wind piped up, the sea-state became spirited, and in the mischievous nature of salt water, a big wave completely soaked them.

At least one of the sailors put his dry suit back on without the benefit of any clothes. It was, shall we say, a bold move to avoid chafe.

​Lessons learned.

The Spawnsters barely had time to snack during the trip, though they wouldn't have starved: an unfortunate Spanish mackerel, leaping boisterously from the water somewhere out in the dark blue empty, landed with a surprising thud in the cockpit in the middle of Saturday night. The team trained their headlights onto the piscatorial visitor.  "What is it and where should I grab it?" Moresailesed inquired before flinging it (by the least harmful corner of its tail) back into the sea.

The mighty yacht herself landed with a thud from time to time in that last stretch of what navigators call "skinny water." Florida Bay (Rod Koch describes it as "lunar") is shallow and full of both mucky sand and hard coral.  Said boat designer Ninjee, "I didn't realize how much running aground we would be doing." Discussion of a stainless-steel leading edge on the centerboard followed. 

Spawn disturbed at least one hazard of the course: a 7-foot-long shark had the startle of its weekend when the boat passed over it in about 2 feet of water. "It looked like an explosion of mud behind us," said TwoBeers.

After a solid nine hours of sleep, as they were eating breakfast and de-rigging the boat, Ninjee, TwoBeers, and Morsailesed started hashing over the voyage.  

They had ideas about where they might have navigated better, how they might have saved a few tacks, how they might improve the performance of the boat. Warm discussions about possible centerboard and rudder modifications followed.

​Other things might have been covered, but this shore crew retired for more catching up on her sleep. ​​ 

Special thanks to Ensign RumsDown, who IS a driving Ninja and generous friend.

As he announced to the team in a manly bellow from the shore of Chockoloskee (after Mary and I had warbled "I love you" across the starry, echoing darkness)  "I LIKE YOU!"  Really do.