Kerr Lake regatta an annual tradition for father-son duo
Jun. 23—HENDERSON — Children that grow up around sailing don't always stay involved in the sport as they grow older. They go off to college. They move away. They start new lives, have kids of their own and the weekend regattas they once competed in — even the big ones — become a thing of the past.
Carolina Sailing Club's Ray Merrill, a 73-year-old Durham resident by way of New Jersey and father of four, doesn't sweat it.
With a sailing metaphor in tow, Merrill said, "You've got to launch them and let them go. I'm not trying to steer their course. It's not my job."
Ray's parenting philosophy makes it all the more meaningful that his son Mark chooses to come back to the North Carolina Governor's Cup Regatta on Kerr Lake to compete with his dad year after year.
Last weekend's 66th Governor's Cup, hosted by Ray's Carolina Sailing Club, marked at least the 20th time that Mark, 42, has sailed with his dad in the event. The number might be higher, but they're starting to lose count. Ray, who was donning a 2009 Governor's Cup T-shirt last Saturday, has been competing in the Kerr Lake regattas since he joined the Carolina Sailing Club in 1994.
In addition to the Father's Day weekend outing on Kerr Lake, the duo usually competes in one other event throughout the year, on Smith Mountain Lake in Virginia. Mark now resides in nearby Blacksburg and says in some regard, he has transitioned from his father's son to his compatriot.
"That causes us actually to be closer," Ray said, "to let him have the freedom to be an adult, than if I were a doting dad."
The Merrills aren't the only father-son connection affiliated with Carolina Sailing Club. Commodore Jon Doyle and son Caz, who also serves on the club's board, are regular partners in the Thistle class.
Family ties being the theme, the Governor's Cup even featured a husband and wife going head to head in the WETA class. Representing Fort Walton Yacht Club of Florida, Lisa Struck bested husband Richard Kiczek by one spot in the final standings.
There's nobody Ray would rather have as crew on his Flying Scot than Mark, who is not a Ph.D. chemist like the skipper, but has shown himself to be more than competent.
"Mark is my best crew and we've won lots of races," said Ray, "so we just like to go out and have fun together. I can't tell you the emotional connection of having a son who likes to go out and play on a boat with dad."
Fun is important but the Merrills do come to win. They finished second in their class on Sunday behind Charlie Buckner and Dale Oller.
The trick to achieving success out here is striving to balance the competitive thrill of racing with the peacefulness that comes with being on the water, and particularly within a community of like-minded sailors.
"But it has to be a balance," Mark cautioned. "And sometimes if it gets too competitive, you have to back off and be more — friends — because you don't want to drive anyone off. You want it to be a community."
"I focused on winning and my sailing got worse," Ray added. "I had to say I'm just going to go out and have fun and I don't care, which is the other end of the scale. And when I did that, my sailing started to get better."
Ray, who attended Duke University for graduate school, identifies with the saying "You can take the man out of Jersey, but you can't take the Jersey out of the man." He says it has taken three decades of being in North Carolina before he learned manners and regatta goers are sure to get a heavy dose of wry wit if they hang around the Merrills long enough.
"You don't want to be around me either when [the sense of humor] is on or I've had a beer. And I only drink one beer," Ray said before pausing and delivering the punchline. "At a time."
"He's mellowed with age," Mark said. "He's wide open most of the time."
A self-proclaimed extrovert, it's not enough for Ray to merely cruise by his fellow sailors and offer a passing wave of the hand. He aims to forge connections, and at the very least, irritate the race committee through a pre-race custom that has become part of his identity on the water.
"This is called the Flying Duckman for a reason," Mark said of the Flying Scot. "He throws rubber ducks at people."
When a race hasn't started on time, whether conditions aren't right or there's some other holdup, the Merrills enlist the services of a rubber duck to pass the time.
"The ducks have not been to swimming school and so you have to rescue them," Ray explained. "So if you catch it — fine — you can throw it right back. But if it goes in the water, it's your responsibility to rescue the duck."
Obey the rules, the sailors must. If their boat gets hit, they must turn the boat and retrieve the duck, and turn tail after throwing the duck forward themselves, as not to have it thrown right back at them.
"It generates chaos on the line with all these other boats spinning around and avoiding people, not hitting people, and it is chaos," Ray said. "And it annoys the race committee, who is trying to get the race started, to no end. When they see the duck come out, they know ... the racers are ..."
"Bored," Mark said.
There's nothing boring about the distinctive emblem emblazoned on Ray's Flying Scot that Mark had a hand in creating. The words 'Flying Duckman' are in black, accompanied by what might appear to be a skull and crossbones from a distance — but in place of a skull, there's the head of a yellow rubber duck sporting a black, pirate-like eyepatch.
The Merrills might be mischievous, and surely there are no signs of helicopter fathering on Ray's part. But there's no mistaking that one of the reasons why Mark makes for great crew company is because his last name is Merrill, too. He helps Ray achieve the balance that's so essential for success in competitive sailing, even if he's simply urging his dad to take a drink of water or eat a snack.
"Mark watches that I stay hydrated and eat because I'll get so involved in what I'm doing that I forget to prepare myself," Ray said. "That's why I need good crew. And he is — Well, he's my son. He cares."
