I had been hanging around a small sailboat racing club in the town where I grew up (as often as I could get away with as a guest) for a couple of summers.
The summer I turned 12, I was finally old enough to become a junior member in my own right, but needed to own a boat that matched one of the club's one-design racing classes to qualify. My Dad helped me find an old, wooden Snipe class racing sloop (I still remember the sail number, 1969).
Lord, I loved that boat! I spent every moment I could racing and/or messing with her for the next six summers. I can still picture her clearly!
Thanks for bringing back some very good memories!
Silver Duck
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