Thunderboating - A Personal Memoir - Epilogue

By Fred Farley - Unlimited Hydroplane Historian

I’ve now attended more than 200 Unlimited races. And I'll keep right on attending.

In my younger days, I used to get all worked up as race day neared. Now, I tell myself, “It’s only a boat race. It's not the great American metaphor for life. Just be yourself and enjoy yourself.”

On race day morning, I approach the upcoming race as if it were a regular job. And I am doing a job. As Historian, it’s my responsibility to keep track of what happens during the day and to be available to assist the media when they ask for my help. I’m not there to socialize. There’s time enough for that when the race is finished.

One thing that I do not do on a race day morning is talk to the drivers. When my friend Steve Reynolds landed his first Unlimited ride with the MISS CIRCUS CIRCUS team, I told him ahead of time, “Hey, Steve, on race day morning, I’ll shake hands with you and say ‘Give ‘em hell.’ But I won’t initiate conversation with you. Before the start of a race, the only two people that a driver should be talking to are his owner and his crew chief. After the race, when things are back to normal, then we can shoot the breeze and break out the beer.”

It's important that I stay focused and behave professionally when something unpleasant occurs. The death of my friend Jerry Bangs was a heart-sickening blow. Here was a guy with whom I had for years talked shop, ogled bikinis, and broken bread. When Jerry was killed driving the SQUIRE at Seattle in 1977, instinct demanded that my emotions be giving vent. But my status as a race official denied me that luxury. The media descended on me with questions about comparisons to other fatalities in Unlimited racing. The human tragedy not withstanding, I still had a job to do.

Boat racers know how to enjoy life better than any group that I’ve ever known. When the race is over and the equipment is put away, that’s when they let down their guard. It’s party time! Some of my most treasured racing memories are those experiences in the pits or back at the hotel when everybody is just relaxing and spending quality time with friends.

The commitment of time and energy that this sport demands is unbelievable. And the expense in dollars can be out of this world.

I don’t see how the crews do it. I really don’t. The work is hard, the hours are unending, and the pressure is almost unendurable. Being on a boat crew requires real strength of character.

But the euphoria that comes to a crewmember from watching his boat “kick butt” out on the race course is a “natural high” that defies description.

Anyone who commits himself or herself to the boat racing life style needs to be cognizant of the effect that life style can have on one’s family. Depending on the individuals involved, boat racing can bring a family closer together or it can tear a family apart.

In my own case, during the majority of my 30 years on the Unlimited officiating team, I was a bachelor. That simplified matters greatly. I had time that I could honestly call my own. When I would lock up the classroom in June, I would hop on the first plane out of town and follow the Thunderboat trail until it was time to start playing schoolteacher again in September.

It helps greatly if one’s spouse is also involved in the sport. I took Carol to her first boat race in 1993. It was a whole different world for her. But she got into the spirit of things very quickly. It wasn’t long before she was assisting me in my Historian’s duties. Carol is now an APBA member and enjoys working with me on the Judges’ Stand as a back-up timer.

Psychologists have tried to explain what it is that attracts people to Thunderboating. But most of them miss the point. My friend Dave Greene, who is a lawyer and not a psychologist, perhaps best summed it up.

In Dave’s words, “When one reflects on why they are attracted to Unlimited hydroplane racing, it conjures up memories of a clear, warm summer day by the water watching these unique, colorful, spectacular boats battle for an important trophy. It is the shape and size that draws us, but it is the roostertail and the way the hull glides over the water that fascinates to the point there is no comparable sport.”

Yes, the roostertail! Even after all these years, that plume of spray is absolutely awe-inspiring. It still grabs and rivets my attention. And the sight of those majestic machines, which have only a nodding acquaintance with the water, running head-to-head in a heat of competition--it still takes my breath away.

I’m now 58 years old. 2002 was my 30th season as Historian. Old age is creeping up my spine. If Unlimited racing survives another 20 years--and I believe it will--I hope that I’m still around to enjoy it. If not, so be it. I’ve had a great ride; I’d do it over again.