Sailing on the Edge

I hauled the mainsheet in tight and the starboard runner lifted off the ice. I tugged it in a little more and the iceboat took off like a shot, chattering across the rough ice at about 30 miles per hour. From my steering position a few inches above the surface---flat on my back and staring over my insulated boots---it felt more like 130 m.p.h.

Several tacks across the lake and I maneuvered the waterbug-like contraption back to shore where the boat's owner stood grinning, anticipating my reaction. Spinning the iceboat around into the wind, I rolled out while Wes set the brake, a toggle-like device on the front runner that digs into the ice. "Man, oh man, what a ride! That was fantastic!" I said, or something to that effect.

My friend Wes (in the photo) is one of a group of avid iceboaters in the Midcoast area who lives for those handful of days when the ice is thick enough and free of snow and the wind is blowing like stink---and, oh yeah, when all of this comes together on a weekend. (If the conditions are perfect, there's a good chance work will have to wait for another day.) They load up their boats---some on trailers, others disassembled and on car-top racks---and converge on one of several large lakes. A hot line provides weather forecasts and iceboating conditions.

Iceboating is a very social activity and a family affair. Usually, cars and trucks are pulled up close to the ice. Crates of equipment, extra sails, coolers and all sorts of stuff are tucked here and there. Barbecues are lit, food is cooked and cold hands are warmed, while kids run around doing what kids do.

Want to try it? Google Maine iceboating and you'll see a website called Maine Ice Sailors, which includes contact information. They should be able to tell you where you can watch the action---and just maybe how you can try your hand at the sport.