My dad, Jack Clark, was one of the original frostbiters in Duxbury, MA in the 1950s. It was long before hi-tech clothing was developed to keep us dry and warm. As a child, I would crew for Dad dressed in my snowsuit and wool hat and mittens. I learned at a young age to feel a boat in the sensitive dinghy.
Every Sunday after church, the motley crew of fun loving enthusiastic sailors would push their Interclubs into the frigid waters of Duxbury Bay and with a beat-up Boston Whaler for the committee boat would set short triangular courses. If anyone flipped, the understanding was everyone would luff up b/c the committee boat could handle only one capsize at a time. As a child, I was delighted that the windward mark in December was a rowboat sporting a decorated Christmas tree.
The season started in late September with the Bug Light Race: that had a no-holds-barred le mans start in the Bluefish River to a mark set about 25 yards from the shore. The entire way out to the Bug Light at the entrance to Plymouth Harbor, the committee boat would serve champagne to the racers. My brother won one year because he was too young to partake and the other skippers had been overserved…
Eventually, Duxbury was hosting a well-attended spring regatta that attracted Finns as well as IC dinghies, and eventually 420s. I can remember traveling up the road a piece to Scituate, even Marblehead for regattas. A couple of times, we ventured as far away as Larchmont, NY and Essex, CT.
I loved listening to the clamor as the boats converged on the marks and the heated protest committee meetings at the Frostbite Shack afterward: a salt shaker for the mark and matchsticks to show the boats’ positions.
If anyone’s interested, I have a bunch of old clippings from the (hilarious and very witty) Frostbite Society column written by Lance Bennett for our local paper–the Duxbury Clipper.
— Carol Clark-Flanagan
Interclub Dinghy Class 