This year, we had not one, but three safety boats. Mark captained the Mazurka; Carl captained his zodiac raft; and I captained our zodiac, fondly named “Li’l Choppin.”
I was excited about being captain. The day before, I pumped water from the little zodiac,
which had been sitting out through too many thunderstorms and had collected a good foot of rain. I scrubbed her down, painted on her name and little musical notes. I don’t know what came over me; I’d never yearned to be captain, yet here I was, stroking the little raft the way I watched Mark pat Mazurka. It’s a love thing, between a captain and a boat.
Race day started early.
After receiving our orders, we cruised out with our crew – Sharyl, Scott, Myke, and Carl – before 8:30. We locked through at Navy Pier and took a deep breath – it had been all summer since we’d been on the River. We missed its quiet, calm sense of purpose.Mark brought Mazurka in front of the Merchandise Mart, and we started setting up the zodiacs with motors and gear. Sharyl was my first mate – a physician on call for the weekend – but with her pager and cell phone, she could answer pages from the water (which she did). We headed north, not quite sure where we were supposed to be – or, to be quite honest, how to drive the boat.
Now wait – I’ve driven the zodiac once. And as a kid my dad used to let me pull the cord on the outboard motor on his 14 ft fishing boat. I mean, I was pretty sure I was going to figure it out. Still, as we were floating away, I called to Mark, “Which one is the throttle?”
After a quick course (outboard motors are forgiving) we secured our location where the river forks, just north of downtown. Our job as safety boat was to keep racers against the west wall, out of the way of huge tour boats and any other crafts coming down the river.
Paddlers descended the river for the next four hours, in everything from long canoes with crews of 20, to a single kayaker bent on winning. (One intense dude ignored our directions to stay to the west, later cursed Mark and Myke and Mazurka for being in his way, and later still tipped his kayak and had to get help from Carl and Scott. I think he lost.) Families came in kayaks and canoes (one mom was towing her daughter’s kayak), construction workers and pirates, and a lone racer standing atop his board, paddling with a long oar. We refueled once, and when I shut off the motor, we experienced what the racers heard the entire way – the stillness of the River in a huge urban landscape.
And there is something very cool about motoring down the Chicago River towards the Sears Tower and seeing your house floating at the base of so much steel and glass.
At the end, we tied up in Ping Tom Park in Chinatown and celebrated with the racers and volunteers, grateful for this awesome city.
After a day in Li’l Choppin, the captain bite is strong…I think it’s time I learn to parallel park Mazurka.
Bow thrusters, I fear you not.
