Rub-a-Dub-Dub — I Got in a Tub
Editorial Article Written by Lesley Lorenz
Nanaimo Magazine July 2008
An exciting play by play of the pre-season media bathtub race.
Late for the start of the race, the rest of the media bravehearts idle out in the bay, while I madly dash down the beach, yanking on a damp borrowed wetsuit, helmet and water shoes. The tub is waist deep in gasp-inspiring seawater. I struggle in (tubs are notoriously tippy) and grab the throttle, pit crew screaming “wrong way” as I sputter with a dribble of gas instead of the “Give’er” method that actually makes the tub get up to planing. I am standing almost upright with the bow pointing skywards and level with my fasty goggles. Realizing the error of my grip, I kick to full throttle, narrowly missing a sand bar. Unclear on where the start line is, I set a course for that enormous tub the officials sit in, knowing I am in search of a red then a white flag, which means …Go Baby!
I get a bead on my competitors, and race my boat over to what must be the start line – what no gun? And suddenly we’re off! I actually do quite well for the first leg, I’m light, it’s a fast tub and I am gaining on two of my media nemeses, leaving one other tub sputtering off the start. Unfortunately, I am blessed with virtually no upper body muscle strength, and my skinny arms can barely get the boat to turn, so I head off towards the ferry dock and the gas barge overshooting the first buoy by about 300m. By slowing down, I manage to navigate a turn and head into my own wake, leaving me shrieking and heaving from side to side. Moments later I again bear fast and straight and think I just might not be last when the next turn is so badly navigated that the kill switch wire is ripped out by my elbow.
The tub immediately starts to sink, so I reach to re-start the outboard, which fills the stern completely, so I must be rescued. Armed with a ping pong paddle (seriously, it’s the only standard safety gear in the boat) but no bailer, I have to borrow a bucket from the bright red inflatable boat that bumps up against me.
Finally back to the beach only 20 or 30 minutes after the end of the 8 minute race, I ring the bell and grant my post race interview to Holly, who has me pretend it is pre-race although I am soaked to the bone and shaking. I strongly recommend next year’s media event be a hot tub not a bath tub race. I think I could win that.
© Lesley Lorenz