A Shout From the Way, Way Past Commodore

by Joe Reid

Recently I was honored to be contacted for input for a windsurfing friend's eulogy.  As I reminisce about my days at Shell Point Windsurfing Club, a few stories made me laugh aloud. I could have written a book on these, but here are some. Some of you may have been on these journeys, others heard of them, and some of this may be your first time hearing the story.

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In the early 1980’s I started windsurfing, the boards were made of hard plastic, and weighed about 60 lbs. The sails were triangular shaped, made of cloth usually nylon. To learn, people would sail by and tell what you were doing wrong. I can remember when Bob Roger’s board fell off the top of his car as we were going to a regatta in south Florida. It slid down the road behind him about 20 feet. We picked it up, put it back on his roof and off we went. Our boards were very durable and would take a beating before they would break. Some of us used to play tag on the water.  Mark Voigt and I could play this for hours in a day. To play tag you would sail the front of your board onto the back of the other person's board or tap the other person with the outermost part of your boom then, you would try to sail away quickly before they would catch you.

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I can remember when the club board members, including me, decided that the club would be established as a club more for fun rather than business. Thus, we started things like, free windsurfing classes, the Rum and Root beer Regatta, the Wind Ceremony and other fun family activities. One of the big debates the board members had was whether we should buy a land trainer to help teach windsurfing.  We decided to purchase one so that more people would be able to learn. We also had a six-month long debate on buying the first "Windy".  Shell Point Beach was a privately owned property at that time, the club worked with the county and others on getting a grant and making it into a public park.

I can recall the Wind Ceremony to kick off our summer led by the Swami, when we danced around a bonfire topped with a Christmas tree. We wrote a wish on a stick and after the Swami blessing, we would throw them into the fire. I remember the year when the “Swami and the Festoons” started playing for us. This was created so that not only the wind surfing community but everyone who came could be included in the fun and activities.

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I remember getting my first racing board, A Mistral Super Light for $750, then taking it over to learn from Billy Mason, with Randy Somnits in Panama City. I recall my last regatta, the 1996 Olympic Trials with a Mistral IMCO, and the sails were more than $700 each.  I recall when Jay Westmark talked me into going to my first out of town regatta it was in Pensacola and run by Jack Stringfellow.  At the welcome party on Friday night, I overheard part of a conversation between one of the local men and a group of people from out of state. It went something like this: 

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Local man:  "They are from Shell Point, over by Tallahassee." 

Out of state guy:  "Wow, there are a lot of them here. (if I remember maybe 10 of us)".

Local man: " Yea, they may not be the greatest racers, but they will drink you under the table tonight, race all day tomorrow and start drinking again tomorrow night."

Sure enough, at our next few Endless Summers, the group of people from out of state grew. 

I remember how hard Brian Bar tried to win the “Festermobile” Award. It took him 3 years till he won. Why Tom “Mad dog” Madden, won the Party Animal or was it Gallant Sailor? I remember seeing pride in a young man no older than 12 who won his first of many awards. It may have been an 8th place in our eyes, but it was a success in his. I remember seeing grown adults chug root beer so fast it made them ill, just to earn bragging rights. I saw over 100 racers come to Shell Point saying they were coming for the race, when everyone knew it was for the party.

I can remember Dan Burch bringing people from the Atlanta Club down to help our club. We would reciprocate with many people from Shell Point going to their regatta. Our club was set up to encourage fun and family while windsurfing.  Many times, we had whole families come to our events for a fun weekend. I can remember SPSC having one of, if not the first C Fleet, so new sailors could learn about racing. I remember how patient Tina Mazanek was with them. 

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Memories that cannot be forgotten are: Perry Morris learning how to make a GOOD martini, He now makes the best ones. Kent snorting an oyster, oh how that boy is still alive amazes me. Making roadkill pizzas at the beach when everyone brought something to put in them. Camping in the field across from the beach for regatta, and someone always coming over to get us up. Letting off everyone’s “donated” fireworks for the Fourth of July sometimes lasting as long as 90 minutes, no one ever got hurt. People accepting others for who they were, not what they had or did or had done in the past.

Just so you know, even though my nickname was Rummy, I never won the Party Animal or Gallant Sailor Awards. With all the awards and trophies that I did win, by far the one I am most proud of is, “The Perry Williams Memorial Sportsmanship Award” from The Shell Point Sailboard Club.  I knew him from when he came to the beach to sail and what a great person he was.

I enjoyed my time living these memories and recalling them with others. They make me laugh at all the things we did while we learned a sport that created a community that we all respected and enjoyed with each other. I hope this has jogged your memories of good times shared with me, and that makes you tell more stories, smile, and laugh together.        

It has always been thus,

Joe “Rummy” Reid