Our regatta: Good show, even without boats

This was the Madison Regatta that wasn’t. A major hydroplane race, with no boats on the water. No exciting heats; no overall winner; no points added to any team’s season totals.

But, you know, this year’s cancellation of the actual racing, due to high water on the Ohio River and the disappearance of the pits area below that water, just proved one thing that many of us have known for years: The Madison Regatta is an annual excuse for the biggest party in town — the biggest party in quite a number of area cities — and watching the boats race is optional for many who attend.

Of course our Regatta Week is a package: Waterball fight; Regatta parade; crowning of Miss Madison Regatta; superb biplane demonstrations by Cliff Robinson, who looked for all the world like the Red Baron in his scarlet craft this year; music on the riverfront; a wowser of a fireworks show on Saturday night (it’s gotten steadily better over the years); and lots and lots of vendors selling everything from barbecue, to ice cream, to your fortune, based on the creases in your palm.

But if you live elsewhere, and you should happen to come to Madison next year for our regatta (it’s always right on or just after the Fourth of July), and you place your lawnchair beside Vaughn Drive (that’s our “river road”) and just sit there for a while, Saturday and Sunday, you’ll see what it’s about for many people, mostly young but often surprisingly mature (up to and beyond even my age). I always think of it as the “Promenade”;  a walking back and forth, up and down Vaughn Drive, in order to see others, and be seen by them. The walkers check out those they pass (I know; I used to be one of them for many years. I remember a friend telling me once that I “about walked me to death” as he tagged along with me.) Those sitting along the street eyeball the walkers, and vice versa. I sit in front of Firemen’s Park and “watch the wheels go round,” as John Lennon titled one of his last songs. It’s not a “free show,” because you have to buy a Regatta wristband to get in; but it’s unique and very pleasant entertainment, in my well-worn opinion.

Of course there are always a sizeable number of fans — mostly guys, I’d say — who really are interested in the race itself, who follow reports on the various race in The Madison Courier (great coverage over the years, David Campbell; and of course, nobody knows, or writes about, hydroplane racing, like my close friend Fred Farley, the circuit’s official historian). Hey, it’s like the Kentucky Derby, in a way; people go to see the whole show, but the race itself is, after all, the real reason you’re there.

It’s surprising that our regatta has survived for 63 years as it has, considering the sour, crabbed attitude so many Madisonians have toward it. Some people claim to have liked it years ago when World War II airplane engines were used to power the big boats — but will add that they “don’t like it now,” apparently because you can’t hear the engines three or four miles away the way you could when I lived at the Englewood Motel, which my parents owned, as a child. The regatta haters also like to talk about how “the crowd’s way down from what it used to be” (sorry, folks, but your memories must be a lot better than mine; I don’t have the ability to compare a picture in my mind of the crowd 30 years ago, with the crowd from, say, last year, when the boats actually ran.) The knowing assurances that “the crowd’s way down” are often followed by complaints that so many out-of-towners come here regatta weekend that “local people can’t find any place to park their cars.” Which way is it, folks?

The “I hate the regatta” people in Madison will acknowledge, reluctantly, that the regatta organization and the city administration have successfully over the last 30 years or so eliminated most of the open drunkenness, violence, public nudity, etc., that used to make the event an enormous headache for law enforcement and a place where many people hesitated to bring their children. And believe me, I’m not pointing fingers at others only when I say that. From 1972, until 1996, I got drunk at every regatta. Made a fool of myself several times. Heard from acquaintances of mine for days afterward (“We saw YOU down at the regatta!” wink, wink, nudge, nudge!). One year two friends and I got as ripped as three hoot owls down there; almost got arrested. I’ll never forget that.

But to return to the general, from the personal: Many Madisonians being of a knee-jerk, negative frame of mind (just look at the local website named for our town if you don’t believe me), they soon turn from lukewarm praise for the better order, to more criticism. Some people wouldn’t be happy if you gave them the moon with a gold frame around it.

My parents didn’t like the regatta, and I never once attended it until I was 24 years old. When I saw what I had been missing, I could have kicked myself — hard! I had never seen so many good-looking girls in one place in my life! Keep in mind, at that time I wasn’t much older than the teenagers of that day. Sure, nowadays I still check out the chicks; I’m not too old to look! But unless I need to go to the porta-johns, or to get something to eat from one of the vendors, I sit there in front of Fireman’s Park and let the moveable feast come to me.

That’s one of the reasons the regatta has been so popular with so many people for so many years — the local nay-sayers notwithstanding. It offers something for everyone. If you’re a hydroplane fan, you get to see some of the fastest, coolest boat racing you could imagine. If you’re young and — uh, on the prowl — you can find what you’re looking for in those crowds quicker than a fat boy can grab a pork chop. If you’re a family person, you can stake out a spot on the riverbank for dad, mom and the kids, have a great view of the river and the heats, and chat with other like-minded families camped out near you.

And if you’re an old fart like me — and a number of my friends — you can park your carcass in a comfortable chair, in a place with a good view, and just drink it all in. The sights, I mean. Well, and other things, too, if you’ve a mind; they haven’t made the regatta “dry” — despite rancorous rumors last year that the current mayor wanted to make the races as bereft of alcohol as a Baptist picnic.

I wrote most of this for those of you who may read this, and who live somewhere besides Madison — somewhere far enough away that you only know vaguely what the regatta is, and where it is. If you’d like a really enjoyable weekend — weather permitting — come on down to Madison next year, the week of the Fourth of July. If you’ve never been to a regatta before, you’ve missed something. And we Madisonians, who are often snarky and negative toward each other about a lot of things, will welcome you, the out-of-towners, warmly.

We’re rivertown people, you see; we’ve always been used to the arrival of strangers. We save most of our venom for each other.