C
Clay Hunter
Old Man Racing
One sunny afternoon, onboard the Ooh La La, our 1981 hunter 33, we swept across lake hartwell in south carolina. We had a boat load of very VERY pretty women, so we were at our best. We had installed an oversized main, and just kept it reefed until we reallly wanted to fly. And on this day, it was all the way down. We thought we were just flying along until this little boat appeared behind us. There was a very old man sailing this boat that was problably the same age as he was. He pulled up next to us, passed us, then slowed back down to stay abeam of us. He then started to converse about how we should move the jib blocks back so get a better sail shape. He then tightened up the sails, passed directly in front of us, slowed down and came down our port side. again he said the same thing. he made another two or three passes around us before finally bearing off to starboard. with our tails tucked between our legs, we motored back to the docks.
One sunny afternoon, onboard the Ooh La La, our 1981 hunter 33, we swept across lake hartwell in south carolina. We had a boat load of very VERY pretty women, so we were at our best. We had installed an oversized main, and just kept it reefed until we reallly wanted to fly. And on this day, it was all the way down. We thought we were just flying along until this little boat appeared behind us. There was a very old man sailing this boat that was problably the same age as he was. He pulled up next to us, passed us, then slowed back down to stay abeam of us. He then started to converse about how we should move the jib blocks back so get a better sail shape. He then tightened up the sails, passed directly in front of us, slowed down and came down our port side. again he said the same thing. he made another two or three passes around us before finally bearing off to starboard. with our tails tucked between our legs, we motored back to the docks.