From SnipeToday’s Editor Carol Cronin (courtesy of Boats.com). An Olympic story from a Snipe sailor
(photo courtesy of Daniel Forster)
“Some memories it takes 10 years to write about. Here’s mine.”
Day two of sailing at the 2004 Olympics started out just like day one: sunny and gaspingly hot, with only about three knots of wind. And just like the day before, I called up to the committee boat, “Good morning—USA.” At this regatta, I checked in not as myself or as the skipper of a three-person team, but as an entire country. What a rush.
I remember that moment perfectly, but it’s taken me 10 years to swallow my pride enough to write about what followed. And I’m only going to do it once, so listen up.
The Saronic Gulf rippled and heat-shimmered beneath the light easterly, which we hoped would build to meet the five-knot minimum in time for racing. In similar conditions the day before, we’d finished second in the very first race of our week-long event.
So I’d chosen the same clothing: white long-sleeved shirt, light-colored leggings, white USA hat. Liz had gone with short sleeves and Nancy sported a tank top, but we were unified by our Team USA regatta pinnies. And in case we forgot our last names, all we had to do was look up—they’d been stuck on the mainsail in bold letters, just below a large American flag.