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Chocolates allowed to Trimingham's escape

And so it was that certain indulgences were allowed on Mr. Eldon Trimingham's 65-foot sloop, Escape which was the first local boat to cross the finish line.

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And so it was that certain indulgences were allowed on Mr. Eldon Trimingham's 65-foot sloop, Escape which was the first local boat to cross the finish line.

Unlike the skipper of the all-female boat, Dancer, Mr. Trimingham had no qualms about letting his crew munch on cookies and chocolate bars, drink sodas or even an occasional beer.

Nor did Escape 's cook have to undergo rigorous physical training like his counterpart on Dancer before the voyage, or stick to a strictly-healthy diet for a month before departure.

Mind you, as skipper of the Bermuda Fitted Dinghy, Victory, which sails under the auspices of the St. George's Dinghy & Sports Club, it could be said that Mr. Oatley gets plenty of physical training! Life as Escape 's cook was not difficult. In any case, Mr. Oatley knew the crew so well that he had a fair idea of provisioning before he even packed a duffle bag.

Of course, the local boat's crew got two rides because it had to be sailed to Newport in order to race back -- and that gave the cook certain distinct advantages.

For a start, Mr. Oatley didn't have to prepare meals from scratch. For the Bermuda-Newport leg, his wife Cherry and Mr. Trimingham's wife Cathy took care of cooking and freezing the evening meals. In Newport, Mrs. Trimingham scouted the local delicatessens for tasty meal ideas, often taste-testing them first.

A final conference with Mr. Oatley determined which were to be ordered in quantity, put up in aluminium trays, and deep frozen.

Only the first meal out of Newport started life completely unfrozen -- on this occasion roast Spring chicken with cole slaw and potato salad.

Breakfasts were right out of the box -- eggs, French toast and waffles affairs which could be re-heated in the microwave.

Microwave? Yes, indeed! For Escape is also designed for family cruising, and unlike the hard-core racing machines with their stripped out, no-frills hulls, she boasts such refinements as a gimballed stove, regular and microwave oven, and a freezer.

"But you had to be sure the generator was on, otherwise the microwave wouldn't work,'' Mr. Oatley explained.

The stove used an extra-safe CGS gas, and came complete with electric starter.

Gimbals allowed it to remain level, no matter what.

In addition to regular meals, plenty of bottled water, cartons of juice, sodas, coffee, tea and hot chocolate were readily available.

"Water is very important, and I stressed that to the crew,'' Mr. Gringley explained. "People tend to dehydrate at sea because they are constantly working and drinks are not readily available. Dehydration can make you tired, so we encourage people to drink plenty of water every time they come on watch.'' Although there was beer on board, almost none was consumed, and certainly not while racing.

Snacks, such as chocolate bars, nuts and fruit were popular, and kept readily available.

A special treat during the wet, cold race home were Elaine Gick and Lee Parks' homemade cookies -- a gift of friendship from the Newport residents who had enjoyed Bermudian hospitality whilst participating in our Race Weeks.

Traditional breakfasts included cereal, juice, tea or coffee, as well as the hot course, while lunch was mainly lettuce and cold cut sandwiches -- made by someone other than Mr. Oatley since he also had to crew. Dinner, the culinary highlight of the day, was much looked forward-to, and included eggplant lasagne, boneless spare ribs, and stir-fried beef. Dessert was pre-packed pudding or fruit cup.

Condiments were applied -- on request -- by the cook, and disposable dishes were used as much as possible.

Operating with a smaller crew than the giant ocean racers, Mr. Oatley was -- unlike some cooks -- expected to take an active part in sailing the boat.

"Because we were in the cruising class, our rigging was more easily handled than the high-performance racing boats, and as a result I was both watch captain and cook,'' he explained. "And because we carry fewer men, there is more demand on them.'' Thus the watch captain-cum-cook had to tack an extra 90 minutes or so onto his shifts in order to prepare for the meals ahead. It was also why he went for time-savers like frozen breakfasts.

"Sea cooks are lucky anyway, because everything tastes better at sea,'' he said. "You are either hungrier or it's a nice diversion.''