The speaker was Jeff Hackett, who ran a small sloop from the foot of Grand Island over to the mainland once a day to carry the mails.
“Are you in this race, too?” queried Jeff.
“Rather think I am,” responded Harvey. “Think I’ve got any chance?”
“Looks to me as though you had,” answered the other. “There are only eight yachts going to start. The others backed out because they didn’t think the handicapping was fair. It’s all right, though. You will have to give us fellows a trifle allowance, by just a rough measurement on the water-line; but you’ll get the same from the Bertha and the Anna Maud. They are the only boats that are bigger than yours. You want to get measured right away, too, or it will be too late.”
Harvey had soon complied with the requirements of the regatta committee, as the committee of summer guests chosen to act as judges were pleased to style themselves, and shortly before the hour for the race the yacht Surprise sailed out of the harbour at Bellport, and stood off and on before the starting-line with the others.
Harvey was in high feather, for, by his own estimate of the situation, he had a fair chance of winning. He knew most of the boats, either by reputation, or from having seen them sail, and the others he was able to judge of in a great measure by their general appearance.
The prize to be sailed for was a handsome silver cup, for which a subscription had been taken up among the summer residents of Bellport.
The Bertha, which conceded the greatest time allowance to Harvey’s boat, was a handsome sloop, about four feet longer than the Surprise, and carrying heavy sail. She had never been considered a fast boat of her size, but, owing to the discrepancy in lengths, had to allow the Surprise several minutes over the complete course of ten miles. This, as the Surprise was really fast for her size and rig, would make it quite an even race.
The Bertha was under charter by a party of young men from Benton, who had engaged a sailing-master to pilot her for them during the summer. This made them an object of contempt in Harvey’s eyes, and he wished all the more to “take the conceit out of them,” as he expressed it.
The Anna Maud was a big catboat, thirty-three feet long, carrying an enormous mainsail, and reputed to be one of the fastest boats of her size in the bay. She was owned and sailed by Captain Silas Tucker, a native of one of the islands at the foot of the western bay, that formed part of the main thoroughfare leading out to sea. He was generally accorded the distinction of being the best skipper on this part of the coast.