For generations, winter recreation has been vital to Wisconsin’s economy — especially in the Northwoods. So last year’s historically high temperatures were crushing to some communities.
But there are some winter sports that enthusiasts are willing to chase the ice for — iceboating.
Patrick Fitzgerald is one of them. On an early January morning he is busy checking over his iceboat. He and 28 fellow sailors were bundled up against the cold on Lake Winnebago, outside Fond du Lac.
They were preparing to race.
Each sleek wooden structure looked a bit like a one-person kayak with a big sail on top.
The boats are called called DNs. Fitzgerald says that’s short for Detroit News—the newspaper that brought the design to life.
“During the Great Depression when people had no money and many were unemployed the Detroit News thought it would be a good idea to publish plans for a homebuilt iceboat and people started building them out of materials they had,” Fitzgerald says.
Fitzgerald’s been an avid iceboater for 40 years. “It’s a thrill. You go out there with nothing but wind and manage to be able to navigate around. If the wind’s blowin’ 15 or 20, these will will go 60 miles an hour,” he says.
The wind wasn’t that stiff on Lake Winnebago, but the ice was thick and free of snow.
In recent years, climate change has made iceboating conditions less predictable. “Global warming is definitely having an effect,” Fitzgerald says.
He says ice sailors are used to being flexible. Just two days before the weekend event, organizers announced the regatta would take place on Lake Winnebago.
Fitzgerald drove up from Chicago. Others traveled from Minnesota and Michigan. One sailor trekked in from Pennsylvania.
Deb Whitehorse says the effort is worth it. “There are always going to be people who want to do this. It’s not easy but it’s fun. You have to be patient for the weather,” Whitehorse says.
Iceboating is in Whitehorse’s blood. She grew up in Madison where iceboating began in 1861. Her dad built iceboats. “Our basement became an iceboat workshop. His boats won a lot of championships. We traveled to regattas around the state,” she says.
Whitehorse eventually became executive secretary of the International DN Yacht Racing Association.
Pat Heppert’s voice booms across the lake, thanks to his megaphone. His instructions are peppered with humor. “The starting line is made of rope so don’t ride over it. The official instructions are find the two dead birds and keep going,” Heppert says.
Everyone makes their way two miles out onto the glassy lake, most sailed, a few hopped aboard ATVs.
Heppert and a couple volunteers set up the starting line, and a handmade contraption that indicates wind direction and makes sure the starting line is perpendicular to the wind.
While Heppert picks up his megaphone, Whitehorse picks up her clipboard. Her job today is to record the racers scores.
“Ready on the right, ready on the left — the flag is up. GO,” Heppert shouts.
The sailors take a running start and then fold themselves into their moving boats.
There’s a quiet whoosh as the wind —just enough to catch their sails— carries them around the course. They have eleven minutes to navigate three loops, a total of eight-tenths of a mile.
Whitehorse and Heppert look on, “It’s amazing we can tell who they are from here. There’s a whole sailing style and posture,” Heppert says.
The sailors didn’t reach dramatic speeds. The wind wasn’t cooperating.
High school freshman Maggie McGary didn’t mind. She traveled from Minneapolis to be part of the regatta, and says she learned from the wind.
“I haven’t sailed very much in light wind so I could kind of tune the boat correctly and also practice those different techniques,” McGary says.
As we talked a fellow sailor called out to McGary, ‘You’re a rock star!’
Maybe there’s more than one reason these sailors chase the ice. They might be competing, but this feels like family.
