On the first day of the 2002 Catalina 22 Eastern Midwinters, held in Titusville, Fl, at the Kennedy Point Yacht Club, a small fleet of boats headed out to the race course, despite a steady rain and approximate 15 knot steady breeze on the Indian River. By the time the first race started, the breeze had built to around 20 knots steady, and many of the wiser competitors headed to shore, given the building breeze and rising chop. The committee did manage to get one race started, with some boats competing with mainsail only. On the third and last beat, a gust clocked at 37 knots swept down the center of the course, breaking the mast of the lead boat that had just finished, breaking the boom of the second place boat, and almost capsizing our third place boat, Lil Flash, on which I was the helmsman. The rig almost went in the water, despite the fact that I had the mainsail completely luffing, and the blade headsail feathered as much as I could. It seemed as though the puff was enough of a lift to power the small headsail enough to flip us. At any rate, I was thrown from the cockpit into the water, minus a PFD, which was promptly handed to me. I managed to hang onto the boat, near the transom. I just could not get back aboard the boat, given the conditions. Some of the Cat 22 fleet keep ladders on their transoms. We did not. (We now do). What we did not know at the time was that the other guy on our crew had suffered a heart attack the previous evening (and he would suffer another one once we reached shore after the race, later requiring double bypass surgery (successful)). Given his reduced strength and my weight (275), I couldn't get aboard, and was getting weak very quickly.

At about that time, another competitor saw my predicament. Mitchell (Mickey) Richardson, a two time Catalina 22 National Champion, aboard "Mischief" dropped out of the race to take me aboard. Mickey and his crew, Keith Bennett, threw me a line, at which time I released my grip on Lil Flash, and pulled my way to the stern mounted ladder on Mischief. The momentum of Mischief made that difficult, as did the fact that my pants were filling with water as I was being dragged. I managed to get my hands on the ladder, but couldn't get a foot on it. I was too weak to hang on any longer, and slipped from the ladder. I managed to grab the throw line, which was trailing behind the boat, and wrapped it around my wrist, knowing that if I couldn't hang onto the ladder, I couldn't hang onto the rope. Keith and Mickey horsed me up to the boat again, at which time I grabbed for the ladder yet again. This time, they grabbed my wrists to keep me at the boat, I swung my foot onto the ladder and popped up and flopped into the boat, mooning the fleet in the process. Not only did they cover my ass, they saved it, in fine fashion. It is with everlasting gratitude that I nominate Mitchell Richardson and Keith Bennett for the Hanson Medal. They are the reason I am able to do so.