Ever wonder how sausage was made? Me neither. If I sat down and thought about it, I probably would no longer enjoy one of my favorite breakfast side dishes. In the summer of 2006, I had the pleasure to be a crew-member on board one of the sailing yachts racing from Port Huron to Mackinaw Island, Michigan. Much like the sausage, sailboat racing is awesome to the casual participant, but there’s another, not so 
sweet tasting, side of the story for those who actually grind and hoist their way to Mackinaw every year. For those of you want to know how the sausage is made, here is a step by step account for you to study up on. Welcome to Mackinaw 101!
In order to be invited onto a boat you better be a great sailor. Only the best sailors are chosen to grind, trim, and pilot these silent, majestic boats to the Straits of Mackinaw. If you happen to be “lucky” enough to be chosen to participate in the race, be sure to expect the unexpected.
My boat, “The Comfortably Numb”, allowed me to bring only one bag that could weigh up to 10 pounds. This bag included shoes, rain gear, and life jacket. Wait, these things alone weigh 10lbs. So much for toothpaste, deodorant, or a change of clothes. Think I am kidding? Most captains have a scale on the dock and will eject any non-essentials on the spot.
Once sailing, you soon forget about the lack of creature comforts and ease into the actual act of sailing. This sport is awesome, if there is wind. When there is no wind, I guess it could be classified as “floating”. For the first 9 hours of this race the entire fleet was stuck in the “floating” mode. The only problem with floating is that there is no breeze to cool you off from the 95-degree heat. It is during this time the black flies start to emerge. From where, I don’t know, but they want a piece of you, and they take it, over and over. The easy solution to both problems would be to jump into the cool water, but don’t forget we are in a race. No swimming! So there you sit, on the rail, staring at your toes that are dangling just centimeters from cool, refreshing water. If I could just touch al little bit. Damn!
On the “rail” there are no cushions, just hard fiberglass. Deck rigging is extremely uncomfortable to sit on, but essential, therefore can’t be moved. In order to have a seat you have to position lines, clasps, and whatever else lies on the deck between the cheeks of your buttocks.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the sun finally started to drop below the horizon. As the cool wind caressed my skin the realization that skin hurts when it has been baking in the intense sun is only surpassed by the smell that radiates from you and the crew. Sorry, no showers, water is heavy and is dumped from the holding tanks before the boat leaves the dock. Remember, we left the deodorant. At least the sun is going down and it is time to eat.
On our boat we were lucky. We were able to use our own plate. Many boat crews pass a dish and share the same bowl as the guy next to them. Some crews have to pass the spoon as well! I have heard tale of crews that bring only power bars and cereal, which they eat for every meal.
After your gourmet meal it is time for a sleep shift. Mine came at 2:00am. This was good because I got a chance to cool down in the 65-degree night air before I turned in. I entered the cabin, rolled my bunkmate out of bed and recoiled from the smell of the day’s sweatfest. There’s nothing like being the lucky recipient of a warm bunk containing someone else’s perspiration, sunscreen and drool. Some people avoid this situation by simply sleeping hung over the rail. I didn’t particularly care to spend any more time with the rigging in my butt, so I opted for the bed of sweat.
Night sailing seems to be everyone’s favorite. At night the speed of travel generally increases and so does the danger factor. The decks become slippery with condensation and bow spray. Sail changes have to be done in pitch dark. Well, maybe not pitch dark. If you hold a flashlight in your mouth wile pulling down the 50 ft. spinnakers your vision increases by a few candlepower. The problem is, the flashlight generally gets knocked askew while trying to stuff the huge sheet into a two-foot deck hole. I suppose you could straighten the light back out but if you let go of the sail with one hand, the wind could grab the sail and snatch it out to sea.
Deck ropes are a familiar culprit during the wee hours of the night. They often like to wrap themselves around an ankle and with any mislaid step, pull folks over the edge. Many captains make crew members clip into a harness so they don’t go overboard at night. Good idea I guess, but as I watched, I could not help but think that if you were on the low side of the boat you would be dashed repeatedly against the side of the boat by the force of the enormous 9 knot waves. I think I would rather simply fall overboard than to be beaten unmercifully for the five minutes that it would take to drag me back on board. On the other hand, if I went overboard, how would the boat see me? Ever been in the middle of lake Huron at night with cloud cover. Goodbye sweet prince
My favorite part of the race is morning. Sunsets and sunrises are the reward for endurance and hard work. Our crew worked in silence while taking in the amazing sights. This time is when you begin to reflect on the race, your role in the race, your role on the earth, your family…then you are jolted by a loud voice commanding “ Time to change the spinnaker and its right back to work. After all there is still another day of this competition to come.
For some reason I can’t explain, this was one of the most enjoyable experiences of my life. I think one of the crew members explained it best when she said, “ It’s like giving birth”. “If I remembered the pain I would never have another child. I only remember the enjoyment of the accomplishment”. I never have given birth, so I use the sausage analogy.
However you explain it, the result is the same. If given the opportunity, I would do the Port Huron to Mackinaw again and again. I may even add a few more miles to the race. I did not really want the race to end.
Special Thanks to Mark Miller, Captain/Owner of the “Comfortably Numb” boat for letting me become a member of the crew. By the way, we WON the race! For more details on the crew and boat go to Numbsailing.com.
By: Byron Goggin, Photojournalist