I’m kind of beginning at the end but that’s what happens when one wants to shed some light on the sailing resume of one Howard Hite and his boat Imp. The consensus of fellow Alberger’s is that Howard had a special talent, seemingly an escape artist in that he always got to where he was going but we often wondered just exactly how he did it…as everyone likes to say ”it was as if he had his own guardian angel”. It strikes me sitting here thinking about him that he may in fact be the second-coming of Ebenezer Cooke-- the main character in John Barth’s Sot-Weed Factor. In the book, Ebenezer was always finding new ways of screwing-up and somehow kept getting another chance—that just reminds me of Howard. It’s been pointed out to me by a friend who also knew Howard that describing Howard’s sailing prowess as a ‘special talent’ is probably the wrong word to use since that implies he made conscious choices and it’s clear that it does not appear that that was ever the case. He posits that a more appropriate descriptor would be “enchanted” in that the way he moved thru events and the way things ended were really out of his control with an overwhelmingly enchanted ambience to his many episodes. It’s entirely possible that Imp was actually an “enchanted” vessel and Howard was just along for the ride.
I wouldn’t say that Howard was a student of the art of fine sailing skills instead he undertook the full-time roll of lead character in what are some of our most cherished Alberg stories. No one has entertained the Association as thoroughly as Howard with his sailing antics. Howard occupies a special place in Alberg hearts--his undaunted spirit was just so contagious and wanted. We miss him dearly.
Here’s a few of Howard’s, shall we say “historically significant sailing episodes”
- For whatever reason, and it seems to always come down to ”for whatever reason” with Howard. The story begins on what was an apparently windless day somewhere south on the waterway. He undertook to tow Imp from his dinghy, rowing. In the sailing days of old the indentured crew was ordered to do this job so Howard being the captain and single handing must have ordered himself to the dinghy or maybe, as frequently happened with Howard, the engine wouldn’t start and so he had to do it… again, for whatever reason. It’s been reported that the Main was up and sheeted. So what could possibly happen? Remember the Main was up and wouldn’t you know it, suddenly the wind was up too. There were no Alberger witnesses but Howard did note to his partner, Barry Miller, a rough account of the event which ended, not surprisingly, with him and Imp on the beach. This much of the story was recently related to me in a cockpit discussion with a good number of Alberger’s who knew Howard very well—we were working on a list of Howard’s sailing exploits. With little other details to go on I began to conjure an image in my mind of the event as it might have evolved—just an old fashion Nantucket Sleigh Ride I’m thinking—what a sight that would have been with the Alberg surging ahead and with Howard now in the chase via his painter connection. If he had an oar raised an observer from a distance might think he was a harpooner.
It turns out that the verbal history has already lost important detail; fortunately I have come across some written history. It was provided by Chery Hite who had sent a message to George Dinwiddie asking if he could notify the Alberger’s to get a search & rescue party together to go find Howard. I’m not kidding. Howard had called and told Chery that the engine was stuck in forward, the alternator had stopped working along with most of the electronics and… This would be a real devastating message for a Wife to get but I think Chery had heard it all before. She said he had coasted Imp into the lower lock on the Dismal Swamp under power without neutral. He shut the engine and batteries off while being raised. Not surprisingly the engine wouldn’t start so Howard asked the lock operators to open the gate with the water high so he could ride the wave thru the canal. That’s fiction, but an interesting thought, waves once generated lose little energy while traveling and could conceivably travel the length of the canal the question is: could Howard stay attached--Howard might have contemplated the wave idea as an alternative. What he did was put up the main and with a favorable wind he set out to sail the length of the Dismal Swamp. Well the wind expired leaving him becalmed maybe, he thought, a mile south of the visitor’s center. So that’s when the dinghy was deployed to tow Imp. And the wind did come up and quickly veered the boat into the trees where it disabled his VHF and all communications--hence the May Day request from Chery.
Couple things in hindsight: he had to shut the engine down since he had no neutral. If he had been able to keep the engine going there would have been no story to relate. But shutting the engine down left him with no option, in his mind, other than sailing which I always thought was not allowed…but what choice did he have? If he had tied up outside the gate he could have gotten help but it looks like Howard wanted to be known as the first Alberger to sail the length of the canal, and maybe the first person to sail the length of the canal since the invention of the auxiliary engine, more than 100 years ago. Knowing Howard, I wonder if he inquired as to the availability of an ox team for a tow. If the main sheet had been left free he may have avoided the unfortunate grounding and continued on. Well he made it back and with no further detail let’s end the story there and acknowledge that Howard had a special ability for putting himself into predicaments that would be hard for anyone else to replicate—except Ebenezer Cooke of course.
- I was the anchor boat one Fall Cruise in Caulk Cove…too many boats on one anchor we learned when an otherwise breathless evening turned into a rain-driven full-furry squall. I was the first skipper to rise when the halyards started to make noise (my anchor boat responsibility I suppose). I started the engine and put it in gear to try to take some strain off the rode, Mike Lehman, next to me, started his engine to provide additional thrust. But nothing was going to stop that anchor from coming out and the raft, at least 15 boats and probably more, took off down the creek. It was the first and only time I ever saw a fender pop—it was that crazy. Once the anchor was free we quickly bore down on a boathouse amplifying the anxiety by another order of magnitude as we tried desperately to get thru the maelstrom and miss the boathouse. Boats were being cast off as fast as they could. One of the boats cast free was Howard’s except Howard’s engine didn’t work. We had set Howard free into the teeth of a 40+ knot squall with no engine—he didn’t even try to retie the lines as they were being taken off (he must have known something). I had my spreader lights on to help with the deck work and, as we mercifully passed clear of the boathouse the anchor suddenly reset. Being re-hooked helped quiet the nerves for the 3 boats still on the raft but was still disquieting knowing that the other Alberg’s were still in a mighty fight. I noticed through the dim illumination and rain the vague outline of a boat passing in front of the raft. I know of the stories of a ghost ship floating around in the Atlantic known as the Flying Dutchmen…could it be? No, it was just Howard…who, under the conditions, eerily looked every bit the infamous Flying Dutchmen. The conditions told me that this occurrence was impossible and couldn’t be happening. But it was definitely Howard, not a ghost and out of necessity he was sailing-a-hull on what looked like an absurdly benign reach for the hellish conditions. Next, and more ridiculously, we watched him ghost right into the open dock at the boathouse running a ground at the head of the dock and not otherwise touching a thing. He slipped a few of the lines lying on his deck onto pilings and went back to bed. It was chaos that night for everyone but Howard. In the morning the beach was littered with Albergs which took the better part of the day to kedge all off. Everyone on the hook that night still vividly remembers and generally concedes that it was the most harrowing Alberg anchor-dragging event ever. When retelling the story over the years it always ends with the part about Howard’s amazing escape.
- This time Howard’s in Knapps Narrows with his main stuck up and the wind behind and pushing him toward the bridge. Howard calls the bridge and informs them that he’s got a seriously bad heart and it might be too taxing to wrestle the sail down if in fact he could get it down…so could you please quickly get the bridge up because I also don’t think I can stop or turn around. The bridge went up and Howard’s legacy of escapes had a new chapter. You might want to fault Howard for not anticipating what was going to happen… but hey, it’s looking more like he knew something no one else knew.
There are more stories but these are the ones that should let you get the gest of Howard’s special talent (enchantment). Howard owned his Alberg for 20 years, he was 83 when he left us and sailed Imp right to the end. He only held office in the Association once, Treasurer in 1986, but that’s OK because he did something better—he gave us many memories of what sailing should be—as he always said: it just doesn’t get any better than this.
by Jim Mennucci
