Racing The Storm

- Matthew Teague

THE MORNING OF APRIL 25, 2015, arrived with only a whisper of wind. Sailboats traced gentle circles on Alabama’s Mobile Bay, preparing for the annual Dauphin Island Regatta. On board the Kyla, a lightweight 16-foot catamaran whose two hulls were connected by a sturdy trampoline-like canvas, Ron Gaston and Hana Blalack practiced trapezing. Ron tethered his hip harness to the boat, then leaned back over the water as the boat tilted and the hull under their feet went airborne.

“Physics,” he said, grinning.

Hana grinned back.

Ron and Hana made an unusual crew. He was tall and lanky, 50 years old, with decades of sailing experience. She was 15, tiny, pale, and redheaded, and she had never stepped onto a sailboat. But Hana trusted Ron, who was like a father to her. And Ron’s daughter, Sarah Gaston, was like a sister.

There were other boats on the water like Ron’s, as well as sleek race boats with oversize masts and great oceangoing vessels with plush cabins. The 18-mile Dauphin Island Regatta had long been an event focused on fun and on passing along the love of the sport from one generation to the next. All told, 125 boats with 475 sailors and guests had signed up, many in teams featuring teenagers paired with older salts. But by the end of the day, it was clear who was in charge: Mother Nature, and she offered a lesson no one would forget.

AT 7:44 A.M., as sailors began to gather on the bay for a 9:30 start, the website of the Fairhope Yacht Club, the regatta’s host, posted a message about the race: “Canceled due to inclement weather.” How could that be, on such a calm and beautiful day?

In fact, at 8:10 a.m., the yacht club insisted the regatta was on. Gary Garner, the commodore of the club, said the cancellation was an error, the result of a garbled message.