This post first appeared on the Boats.com blog.

Sailors know that summer in Annapolis means heat, humidity, motorboat chop, jellyfish—and no wind. So when a hundred and thirty Snipe sailors choose to spend a week of August vacation there, they must be counting on something more than just the sailing to make it worthwhile.

Cronin and Couranz round the leeward gate mark with another boat tight on their transom.

That something more is the chance to catch up with old friends and make some new ones, and this year’s Snipe Nationals provided that opportunity in spite of the somewhat hot and humid atmosphere. We were also rewarded for our leap of geographical faith with surprisingly nice sailing conditions for most of the week, losing only the last day to no wind.

Best of all, the week proved to be a fantastic opportunity for me to look back at how far the Snipe and I have come in the past twenty years.

My very first Snipe Nationals was also in Annapolis, back in 1990. I was a newbie crew, trying to learn about the boat and my skipper and our competitors all at once. Several veterans befriended me, and many of those friendships persist to this day—though we only see each other at most three or four times each year.

This year I steered my own boat—and posted a top five finish, thanks in large part to my fantastic friend and teammate Kim Couranz. It also helped to have so much encouragement from those skippers and crews I’d been racing with and against for two decades. This is a class that encourages growth, which is a large part of why we will celebrate its 80th birthday next year.

The sharp eyes on Severn Sailing Association's main committee boat, Favored End, kept everyone honest on the starting line.

Many predicted the demise of the Snipe Class in the mid-90’s, when two of the three US builders folded. (Jibetech is currently the only class builder in North America.) But a continued emphasis on family has revitalized the class once again.

This year’s Junior Nationals boasted sixteen teams. The Special Juniors (junior skipper, any age crew) was won by 12 year old Christian Filter (Annapolis, MD) with dad Henry in the front of the boat. In a few years Christian will trade in his father for a buddy closer to his own age and compete for the Junior Nationals, following in the footsteps of this year’s Junior champ Nick Voss (Miami, FL).

Nick’s a perfect example of a Snipe “brat;” after honing his sailing skills in college, he comes back to the Snipe in the summer. This year he and teammate Nicole Popp finished third in the Senior Nationals. His sister Kara finished tenth, and parents Ken and Kay Voss won the silver Wells fleet. (Kay also made lunch every day for her kids and helped with regatta scoring.)

As the wind grew lighter throughout the week, courses grew shorter - which meant crowded weather marks.

For those of us a few decades past college, the inspiration to keep sailing such physically and mentally challenging boats comes from the class oldsters. The best-loved is Gonzalo Diaz Sr., who everyone (and I mean everyone) calls “Old Man.” This octogenarian still shows up at all the major events and usually qualifies for the gold fleet. Between regattas, he keeps the Miami fleet strong by loaning boats, digging crews out of local junior programs, and helping newbies with boat setup and maintenance. Best of all, whenever he’s talking about Snipes, he’s smiling.

Old Man’s son Augie Diaz and teammate Kathleen Tocke won this year’s Nationals, though they said they were constantly looking over their shoulder at “the kids,” most of whom are products of the Miami Snipe fleet. The top four teams qualify for next year’s World Championship in Denmark, where the competition will be even fiercer but the attitude will still include some “serious fun.”

Kim and Carol await their fifth place trophy at the regatta dinner.

So it’s not just about the sailing—it’s about the people. Together we’ve turned year after year of shared regattas into another family, one that will help all of us master the next stages in life and sailing.

Stay tuned for more Snipe news from the Western Hemisphere and Orient Championship in Canada, where Kim and I will reunite with some of our international Snipe family.

Photos courtesy of Ted Morgan. For results and more info, visit the Snipe class website.

It’s not often that my book life and my sailing life overlap, but it happened last week.

Last Friday, I submitted a file (only ten minutes late) that represented almost a year of hard work.  Cape Cod Surprise, complete with layout and cover art, has been sent off to meet the sharp eyes of my publisher and editor at GemmaMedia. [Insert appropriate “cheer” word here, along with much overdone punctuation.]

Writing a sequel requires all the same effort as the original book.  1. Dream up enough story line to start writing.  2. Figure out what the REAL story line is. 3. Edit. 4. Re-edit, to make all the little pieces fit the big picture.  5. Ask “is it as good as it can be” over and over, until the answer is “yes.”

In addition, the sequel required a little extra effort.  Because this time, I knew I was writing for publication—not just to brighten the eyes of my nephew at Christmas.  This time, I was on a deadline.  And it had to be even better than “good as it can be.” Better than the first book.   I believe it is… longer, richer—yes, better.  I can only hope my authorly bias is not blinding me to the faults of my latest creation.  I can only hope you the readers will love it too.

I also checked off an important sailing goal last week.  Kim Couranz and I won the Snipe Women’s Nationals in Jacksonville, FL.  This is the fifth time we’ve won this event (though only our third as a team), so that victory alone isn’t necessarily a goal as worthy of shout-out as shipping off a manuscript.  It’s where that regatta victory will lead us that counts: we’re now qualified for the Snipe Western Hemisphere and Orient Championship in September, an international regatta that draws together the best sailors in the class.  (And for those who keep score by gender, we are likely to be one of the few women’s teams at the event.)

I’ve written before about the three hats a writer must wear as she works through a project.  I’ve also written about the many definitions of success in this brave new world of publishing.  For all these reasons and many more, I made sure to celebrate last week’s writing milestone. There are so few finish line tapes across the road to publishing that when we hit one, it’s critical to raise a glass and breathe in the heady air of “I did it!”  Because all too soon my manuscript will be back for edits, like a teenager who returns from college with fresh opinions based on his contact with others.

Kim and I should’ve celebrated our regatta win with a raised glass too.  Instead we jumped in the van to drive the 13 hours back to Annapolis Sunday night, so she could show up for work the next day.

And it didn’t feel so important to consciously celebrate a finite victory like winning a regatta. It’s so much more obvious that we achieved our goal when there is a printed scoreline of firsts (what we sailors call “bullets”).

Authors have no such scoreline; instead we single out the good reviews and positive feedback, building a moat around our egos to protect against the less pleasant comments.  There are always more books that could be sold, more readers that could be touched, more Amazon reviews that could be written.

Besides, Kim and I will be celebrating all summer, as we push to improve our skills toward meeting our new goal (a respectable finish at the Westerns). Because that’s what self-motivated people do: as soon as we achieve one goal, we look for the next.

But for a few days, while my new book is out of my hands being edited by someone else, I will savor last week’s writing victory.  Because whether or not this sequel is actually as good as I think it is, I’ve now answered once and for all one of my great internal doubts:

Can she do it again?

Yes, she can!

And that’s a victory worth celebrating.

Kim Couranz takes time off from her day job in communications at NOAA to sail with me.  This week we’re bringing a new Snipe up to speed, and she took time off from boatwork and reading to write this post.

I’m lucky not only to have some great friends who are also terrific sailors, but a super-duper hubby who understands that sometimes I need to go on vacation without him to go sailing with those aforementioned great sailing friends.

When I’m really lucky, those aforementioned sailing friends don’t mind if I use some of my vacation time to head to bed early with a good book. It’s pretty decadent to ease in between the sheets without second thought of “did I move the laundry into the dryer”; “I need to remember to get in touch with the folks at the other office to make sure we’re on track on that important project”; or “must remember to get more food for the dog who depends on me.”
And I’ll admit that cozying up with a good book is somehow even a little more indulgent after a day of dinghy racing, when I’m usually a little body tired and mind numb. So that all I can focus on are the words on the page.

I’ve had a few serendipitous book choices follow me to regattas—often location or theme has intertwined with my regatta/sailing experience. Two years ago, at the same regatta in Clearwater, Florida, from which I’m writing this post, I dove into Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston. What a forceful book about a strong woman—even if she doesn’t always believe she is. The novel, published in 1937, takes place in early 20th century central and southern Florida, and tells the tale of Janie and the very different parts of her life as she is married to three very different men. But though parts of Janie evolve over her life, one thing remains steady—she believes in love and wants that to be the foundation of her marriages. Janie’s strength as she handles what is dealt her is astounding.

Much of Janie’s story is set in the Florida Everglades, and includes a riveting account of Janie and her third husband Tea Cake’s experiences in the Okechobee hurricane. To head to our next regatta in Miami, we towed the Snipe down I-75 through the Everglades. It was a challenge to look past the chain link fence cordoning the River of Grass off from the cars and trucks whizzing by, but it definitely made the trip fly by to imagine Janie and Tea Cake trying to make ends meet in that neck of the woods (or rather, subtropical wetlands).

Today we sailed three races out on the Gulf of Mexico, and the breeze increased steadily through the day. My mind is fried, and body a tad tired, so I’m off to bed now with a good book. Perhaps I’ll find a character, location, or theme that will resonate with my sailing, traveling, and camaraderie experiences this week. My guess is that I will.