Lawrence H. Rogers II / Lawrence HRogers II
Librería Samer Atenea
Librería Aciertas (Toledo)
Kálamo Books
Librería Perelló (Valencia)
Librería Elías (Asturias)
Donde los libros
Librería Kolima (Madrid)
Librería Proteo (Málaga)
This is the story of a family adventure, of sailing from St. Petersburg, Florida, to Palm Beach, to New York, then to Newport, to sail in the 1984 Bermuda Race in our 48-foot New York Yacht Club Forty-Eight Swan HALCYON.The author and family were in St. Pete because he owned the St. Pete Grand Prix auto race, and the boat yard there was able to upgrade our Swan 48 for a trans-Atlantic passage, as well as change her color and make important changes in her safety features.They sailed to the Florida Keys, with several amusing adventures, then to Palm Beach to visit friends, then off to the north. Despite having lived in Orlando for five years, and knowing that that latitude of Florida and its close neighbor, Cape Canaveral, had the worst affliction of thunderstorms in the world in late afternoons, the author made the mistake of leaving Palm Beach at noon. By four o’clock the yacht was struck by lightning, and all its navigation gear was blown out.One thing after another, the family got all the gear shipped off to its home offcies (mostly in California) with the demand that it all be waiting for us in Newport for the start of the Bermuda Race in about three weeks. It all did.They made the race, with almost all family, a crew of ten, and led for five days of horrible, stormy weather until the author made another major goof. So they didn’t win, but came in twelfth out of some 160-odd competitors.After two weeks of revival, they took off, five in crew, for the Azores. The trip was made in 2 weeks (average speed 7½ knots) sent one crewman home, and picked up Mrs. Rogers on her birthday.Then, off to Madeira, the south coast of Portugal, fabulous beach adventures, Spain, and the Balearics. First glimpse of France, after a hellaceous storm, was the Ile d Porquerolles. Then, east on the Cote d’Azur until we reached Beaulieu-sur-Mer — halfway between Nice and Monaco — which would become our home port for the next fifteen years.
