By Jere Dennison
Through the end of the 1940s at our predecessor club in Urbanna and into the 1950s at our present location, the Penguins became our most active one-design racing fleet. Many of the Clubs founders and early commodores raced Penguins, including W.M.F. Bayliss our 19th commodore in 1955. Major Bayliss as he was known for his military exploits against Rommel in North Africa during WW II was a raconteur of the first order. The father of current member Temple Bayliss and past member Murray Bayliss, Major Bayliss regaled his audiences with stories from the past, some of which waxed grander as the years progressed. A resident of Goochland County, he wrote a column for the Goochland Gazette entitled Looking Back where some of his old yarns were documented. One such column of May 28, 1974 recounted an incident that took place during a Penguin race at FBYC in the early 1950s and is reprinted below for the enjoyment of current members.
Looking Back by Major W.M.F. Bayliss
Penguins Racing in 1953 |
Sailing of all kinds and particularly small boat racing is great fun and the season is now well launched at the Fishing Bay Yacht Club near Deltaville, which serves the Richmond area and neighboring counties.
Strange things happen on the water, and the sea can kill you awfully fast if you make a serious error. We have therefore made it a practice never to take a drink unless safely anchored in a good harbor, or tied up alongside a quay. We commend this thought to our less experienced brethren.
A minor case in point came up some years ago when the Penguin fleet of some fifteen sail was racing in Fishing Bay. A stiff south easterly breeze was blowing and the fleet was passing clear of the shoal on the west of the bay, the Berryville shoal to be exact, when we observed a large power boat dead ahead in obvious distress. In fact she was filling up at the stern like a jug.
The twenty people on board were screaming bloody murder, particularly a buxom lady who seemed to be sitting on top of everybody else, howling Save me, Save me!
The Penguin fleet luffed up into the wind and prepared to rescue the perishing and care for the dying. However, the captain of the endangered craft who was apparently the only one aboard who had not taken a few drinks, really got to work with a bucket and kept the water down. He also gave his vessel full throttle and dashed for the Berryville shore.
Before we got near him he was in two feet of water and about to run onto the sand. The occupants continued to scream to be saved since they did not realize that although they were a quarter of a mile from the land in fairly rough water, they could easily walk ashore.
The Penguin fleet of course paid off which means letting their sails take the wind and scudded on their happy way, roaring such remarks to each other as Look at those silly apes drowning in a foot of water!
Mrs. Bayliss was crewing for us and as usual we had sit her up on the windward gunwale, not only to keep the spray off us, but also to give her the satisfaction of knowing that there she could really make her weight felt. It also helped us win races. Anyhow, even she, a most humanitarian lady, agreed that we had no further reason for anxiety about our power boat friends after they had gone up on the shoal in a foot of water with one heck of a bump. Legal action was threatened for the Penguins heartless behavior but, needless to say, it fell flat.