Duck Dodge isn't trying to ruffle anyone's feathers
The Seattle Yacht Club's Opening Day has people in military dress parading out the start of the boating season. But the first Duck Dodge heralds a summer of silky-aired Tuesday evenings, themed races like "Prom Night" and an informal, beery, catch-me-if-you-can race notable for making the most of our longest days.
"Duck Dodge is the spirit of Seattle," said Paul LaMarche, a 20-year veteran of the race and skipper of a monstrous 70-foot sloop that toyed with the field last night. "It's part of playing on Lake Union and using Lake Union as our playground. It's a playground for adults, really."
"When that starting gun goes off, it's the first moment of summer, absolutely, without a doubt," said Tim Morgenroth, a former race-committee chairman.
Duck Dodge competitors over the past 29 years have included America's Cup champions Weatherly and Stars and Stripes, but the race is by and large the antithesis of cutthroat, rules-driven sailing. It's also one of the city's finer spectacles, with all sizes of sails and multicolored spinnakers skimming between the Aurora and Interstate 5 bridges within easy view of Gas Works Park, the Duck Dodge bleacher seats.
It started in 1974 with two guys, Ron Lloyd and Bruce Gilbert, racing to see who had the faster boat. The next week they put up posters around Lake Union advertising the "Lake Union Beer Can Regatta, or 'Tenas Chuck Duck Dodge.' "
Tenas Chuck referred to Lake Union's Indian name, "little water." The dodging of ducks referred to the race's "scared duck rule," which required that any boat "coming in contact with or substantially frightening any duck" would complete a 720-degree turn. And apologize to the duck.
That was about the only rule, aside from the usual Coast Guard rules of the road.
In a 1999 history of the race, "48 Degrees North" editor Richard Hazelton said the race grew to include more than 60 boats by the mid-'80s.
The race has changed over the decades. It used to go year-round but now runs over about four months of the year's more pleasant Tuesdays. The scared-duck rule is gone and the Duck Dodge Web site (www.duckdodge.org) lists 12 rules, one of which bars bribing the committee boat "while anybody is looking."
The bribe rule was blatantly disregarded last night, "Committee Appreciation Night," with boats streaming by to show their gratitude with bottles of beer, wine and rum, a pair of small brass anchors, cookies and crackers, a copy of Joshua Slocum's "Sailing Alone Around the World," a cigar, pastries, iced brownies and, yes, an envelope of cash. The best bribe was a 2-foot-tall trophy with a rubber Devil Duck stuck on top: the Immoderate Behavior Cup, donated by the captain and crew of the S/V Immoderate Behavior to the Duck Dodge race committee.
"This better have some beer in it," said Beth Jackson, a committee member.
Six of the Duck Dodge's other 11 rules are "no hitting one another," an amazing feat when 50 or so boats in the categories of fast, half-fast, cruiser and dinghy approach hull speed in close proximity to each other and the occasional houseboat.
As laid back as it is, sailors still covet the gold, silver and bronze duck stickers given boats that place in each category. There is even some honor in the black duck awarded for general outrageousness. In the past, they have gone to a skipper who, on a still night, put up his spinnaker and filled it by motoring backward, and a sailor who bribed the committee boat by swimming over with a champagne bottle. He was naked.
With last night's start, sailors and spectators can look forward to the uninhibited goofiness of Pirate Night, Dead Celebrity Night, Pajama Night and Toga Night.
Out of such rituals grows a community, figuratively and literally. After last night's race, nine boats rafted together in the middle of the lake, eating, drinking, hopping from deck to deck and watching the skyscraper lights brighten.
The record raft is 72 boats, a floating village.
Eric Sorensen: 206-464-8253 or esorensen@seattletimes.com