The Water Monsters

Reprinted from TIME Magazine, August 17, 1959.

The world's fastest racing boats are the unlimited hydroplanes. As much airplane as boat, they are bellowing giants powered by World War II fighter-plane engines, ride on two hand-size patches of hull and the submerged half of a whirling propeller, skip along the water like a flat stone thrown from shore, tossing spray with the sting of buckshot. No one knows how fast the top boats will go because no one has ever had them wide open, and for good reason: at speeds around 180 m.p.h., the slightest swell can send them hurtling into the air. Last week Seattle's Lake Washington reverberated like a fighter strip as the nation's 14 fastest hydroplanes roared off in the top race of the year: the Gold Cup.

Burns over Bone

Behind the wheels in crash helmets were the drivers, a peculiar breed willing to pay the price for loving danger. There was Bill Stead, 34, a Nevada rancher with a cowpoke's wind burned face, whose legs and arms bear unhealed burns as souvenirs of a wild ride last March when his Maverick blew up at 175 m.p.h. on Lake Mead. Stead had coolly stuck to the boat: "Burns hurt a little more, but I'd rather have them than broken bones, and I've had both."

There was tall, lithe Mira Slovak, a onetime pilot for the Red-run Czechoslovakian Airlines, who hit the headlines in 1953 when he commandeered a C-47 and flew to asylum in West Germany. Between races, Slovak is now a crop duster. And there was Bill Muncey, 30, onetime professional hockey player. In 1955 Muncey was so infuriated when officials gave the Gold Cup race to Detroit's Gale V, after he had apparently won it for Seattle in Miss Thriftway, that he moved forthwith to Seattle. He won the Gold Cup for Seattle in both 1956 and 1957, became a local hero with a slick disk-jockey show that leaned toward cool jazz. Muncey's specialty: winning the races on the turns.

Jack Regas, last year's winning driver, was not even there: he was still in the hospital with severe head injuries suffered last month when he spun into a wall of water on Idaho's Coeur d'Alene Lake while driving Miss Bardahl. Taking Regas' seat in defending champion Hawaii Kai was Brien Wygle, 32, a Boeing test pilot, who was the first man to log 1,000 hours in the B-52.

Souped-Up Power

The water monsters that these men drive are so souped up that the Gold Cup tactics are largely based on simply finishing the race. For power, the hydroplanes use either the Rolls-Royce Merlin or the U.S.-made Allison, which drove some of World War II's fastest fighters. Normally, these engines generate around 1,600 h.p. at 3,000 r.p.m. But this is not enough for the hydroplaners. Mechanics bolster the engines with fancy superchargers and heavy-duty quill shafts until they can turn out some 2,650 h.p. at 4,500 r.p.m., then add a gearbox to boost propeller speed as high as 12,000 r.p.m.

From the start, the race was a duel between Stead in Maverick, owned by Phoenix's Bill Waggoner, and Muncey in Miss Thriftway, owned by Seattle Grocery King (Thriftway Stores) Bill Rhodes. Going into the final heat, Maverick had a 700-625 point lead. All Stead had to do was finish a fast third.

His roostertail of spray soaring 50 ft. into the air, Stead seemed headed for certain victory when he spun off the course on the seventh lap. Stead wrestled Maverick back into the race, but could finish only fourth as Muncey brought Miss Thriftway home in front. But Stead was saved by the movie camera. Films of the start showed that Miss Spokane, which finished third, had crossed the line ahead of the gun. With Miss Spokane disqualified, Stead and Maverick took over third place, tied Muncey in total points, snatched the Gold Cup by a fractional advantage in average speed.