Each summer, a handful of plucky sailors square off in one of the world's most unsung regattas -- a marathon contest across Great Slave and back. The lake usually wins. Story and photos by Katharine Sandiford. A wave crashes over the nose of the sailboat and gives me a thorough ice-water soaking, rendering the hand-held wind meter useless. The last reading was 32 knots. But it’s too late to do anything. We’re well into the storm and the wind’s too strong to reduce sail – something we should have done as we approached the ominous thundercloud half an hour ago... - Read More
The Best Most Terrible Race
posted by Chris McCaffrey