1957 was the year of Sputnik, the start of the space race, and the continuation of the Bruyn Brothers own little race.
The family Skimmar now a a ten horse and my brother Steve had moved ahead by building his own ten foot "Squirt" that emulated the Chevy Corvette with the coaching and expertise of his prodigy friend on Bluff Point Road. He harnessed it up with a fifteen horse Johnson, a move that placed him firmly in front of the pack. We buzzed around the harbor that summer, but our boating would be threatened the next year by the bureaucrats in Albany.
Prior to 1958, there were no restrictions on boat operation at all. Now, we feared that minimum age requirements would be imposed. When the mandate came down, the only requirement was that all powercraft be registered, regardless of size. At Christmas of 1957, believe it or not, I acquired the family Skimmar by gift and duly registered it in my own name. I was not yet twelve and the bureaucrats already had their hooks into me!
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The summer of 1958 was filled with much gasoline consumption, "reckless boating," and ended abruptly for me when I hit a dredge pipe float at Sand City. I punched a hole in the bottom of the boat, but managed to make it back to port.
The next year, 1959 would find me mostly in Woodcraft 101 with the same friend of my brother's who had quarterbacked the building of Steve's "Squirt." He (and I ...grunt!) repaired the damage to the impact zone and, shortly thereafter, I saw the opportunity to upgrade with a little horse trading to a "Yellow Jacket" kit which was really just a molded plywood hull without a transom. I could see the potential in this boat with a fifteen horse and sat out most of 1959 in upgrade "sweat equity."
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1960 brought a new set of dynamics. The willowy old police tub was gone and so was Uncle Frank. While I wasn't looking, Northport got a "new Sheriff in town" with a new lapstrake inboard. Enter Altieri (feelin' lucky punk?). The new "Yellow Jacket" performed as expected and I was back in the game. For the most part, somehow, we managed to escape Altieri's sinister grip and although we probably could have outrun him, but we didn't dare. He was very intimidating. The following year, I doubled the power to 30 horses and 1961 would be one for the records.
Read Desperados Part I .
