As Marion Bartholomew and all the other women in the Atlantic Highlands Yacht Club prepare for the 20th annual MS Race this August 17. this particular Shrewsbury resident can look back on what sail racing has meant to her as well as how this particular race has contributed so much to 180 Turning Lives Around, the non-profit organization that assists abused women. Breeze
Marion was in that first race 20 years ago, another half dozen since, and now continues to be part of the committee that makes the event not only a great resource for 180 Turning Lives Around, but also a popular attraction at the Atlantic Highlands Yacht Harbor and a major summer event for seamen and spectators alike.
Sailboat racing itself is, according to Bartholomew, “something that happens in a magical place. It is a physical activity and probably mostly a mental activity.” That is because, she explains, “even just a small tweak on a sail could make you the race winner.”
Still, she cautions, “You have to know how to spot where to make that tweak, and when to make it. That’s the magic, the subtle move that is hardly noticed but just might get you across the line first.”
Nor is winning everything. As Captain of My Time in that first race in 2004, her team placed second. She hasn’t placed since. Racing has always been important to both Marion and her late husband, Jeffrey Goldfarb. since they first joined the Atlantic Highlands Yacht Club. He was a veteran racer, having participated in the crews for many Long island races.
“I was a cruising sailor,” she said, “We were invited to be part of the crew of My Time, a 35 ft. Beneteau, and I got hooked. From then on, for me our cruising vacations became a chance to tweak those sails if I saw another sailboat that might be passing us. My husband wanted me to sit and relax and enjoy the ride, but making our boat go faster was something I couldn’t resist.”
The following is the story Bartholomew wrote after that first race in 2004, as it appeared in Sail Magazine, a leading national wide magazine that chronicles the lifestyle, safety and seamanship of the sailing community.
A Little Extra Breeze
By Marion Bartholomew
There were enough of us females regularly crewing in the Wednesday night races at the Atlantic Highlands Yacht Club in Atlantic Highlands, NJ, to inspire the club to hold an all female sailing race in August 2005. We called it our “Ms. Race.” A fairly seasoned sailor, I was invited to captain the boat that, usually, I crew aboard. It’s a 36-foot Beneteau called My Time.
The winds in August in Sandy Hook Bay tend to be light, and the weather is usually good, and therein hangs my tale. The crew came together easily, though it was a fairly inexperienced group. We happily practiced for the race in early August, in the light wind conditions that are typical of Sandy Hook Bay at that time of the year.
Even crew members new to sailing seemed comfortable as we went through the maneuvers of tacking and gybing. We practiced reefing, though heaven forbid we should need to.
Saturday, August 27, 2005, dawned sunny, clear, and breezy. Quite breezy. We had a solid 15 knots, which in our case approached the upper limit for uneventful racing. We were all a bit intimidated as we dropped My Time’s mooring, but I wanted my crew to feel confident, and I did my best to look confident, myself.
Then came the start and gusts into the twenties. Where was all this wind coming from? On the first leg, with gusts now to 25 knots, the boat was overpowered and we reefed. (In all my past seasons as a crew, I cannot remember a single time when we needed to reef My Time’s main).
At this point winning the race was not important to me anymore, and while not one of my five crew expressed concern in words for their physical welfare, I saw anxiety creep onboard and tried to take charge. I had to stop worrying about losing control of the boat and stay focused on finding the marks, giving directions, inspiring my crew. I didn’t feel we were in any imminent danger, but the wind was challenging our confidence, and I had to be the one to bring everybody home. It was just a race, not a test of survival, right?
The story in brief: Did we finish? Yes, second. Did we make mistakes? Oh my, so awfully many. Then, as we crossed the finish line, the committee on the RC boat applauded and called out wonderful words like “Great job!” and “Congratulations” and it felt so very, very heartening to hear those cheers. I saw my crew’s faces utterly glowing with pride for just having done it, for having suffered no damages to body or boat. We were all stronger now, and our two hours of rough sailing became a precious and unexpected gift of increased self-confidence on the water and in ourselves.
For more information on the MS Race 2024, visit the Atlantic Highlands Yacht Club site at ahyc.net
