Pat Remembers...

Somewhat scattered thoughts from the legendary Pat Crump


I told you that I tried to write a story for you for Legends and Lore, and Ron's scorpion would have been one of a huge saga of fun stories.

Therefore, the one I wrote and you didn't get was about the 1982 Midwinters, otherwise known as the Electric Midwinters. Three of the four top boats were powered by electric skippers and crews (1rst,2nd,4th), and the new guy in the fleet who declared he'd quit Fireballs if he got beaten again by the Electric boats, after he discovered that a whole squad of us ate electricity each morning for three days before going out sailing...he quit... That was also the year the six foot manta ray went by, the million bird flock that went by ME at spreader height, parting like the red sea to go past the mast, making a utterly deafening noise, and the squall that went through and flattened all the fleet (except me because we won the race with a huge lead and saw it coming and bolted for shore just in the nick of time) and all the tents (except mine). And the coast guard helicopters hovering overhead at night while 20 of us mooned them, illuminated by their brilliant search lights, with them on the PA screaming down at us from 150 feet over us, the heat and smell of hot jet fuel blowing down on us....and the time Tof almost got arrested for fireworks by the Tampa police when a neighbor (across the water) called 911 and told the cops "shots fired"...and the time Mark Foster ran over Standevan when his hiking strap broke and he fell into the water on a SCREAMING three sail reach right in front of Mark...and the time Ron McHenry switched the sign on the men's and women's room at Shells Restaurant....and the time Ronald McDonald was ripped right off his foundation at the Micky D's on Victoria Street in Kingston, pulled through the bushes by a pair of spinnaker sheets tied together, and later hung by the neck on that funky sculpture at CORK near the harbour exit, or the asshole Laser sailor who just had to park his Laser in the middle of the Fireballs...who found his boat hung by the fairlead, quite vertical, the next morning, also on that big sculture....high enough so he couldn't reach it....or the time that my two "Chris" friends hunted down a pair of 15 year old junior Laser girls and coined the expression, "old enough to... edited by the Editor!" resulting in Fireballs being banned the next year at CORK...

Also, about those scorpions... ask Ron McHenry what bit him at DIYC one rainy night as he exited my tent to pee...(it was poring, so the party was naturally in the Crump Palace...you haven't seen the most enormous of them because the weather's been too good lately. Usually they were large enough to protect my tent, park the car and park the boat, all under the giant sprawl of tarp city. So he crawls out, we hear him say "ouch", he pees, he comes back in and says something bit him, we keep drinking and smokin' and his entire forearm starts to swell, bigger and bigger and bigger....after 3 hours, it starts to unswell, so we drank more to celebrate. I caught the thing under the edge of the tent the next morning, and it was 4 inches head to tail. So there. We put it in a glass jar, and heated the bottom to make it dance. It danced.