By JIM ROGALSKI
                                                 Skipper of Stolen Moments
                                                    Saratoga Springs, NY

      LAKE GEORGE, NY - We had a variety of names for it: ``The Wet Paint Regatta'' because the majority of skippers there were still putting some finishing touches on their craft. ``The Great Northeast Float'' because, well, on Day 1 there wasn't any wind. None. Nada. Zip. (That changed in a BIG way Sunday, though.)
     But despite Saturday's No Blow, the first-ever sanctioned regatta of the BYYB on Lake George, NY Aug. 4-6 was plain and simply a nautical blast: a fun weekend served up family-style that seemed to not cease to amaze the many folks who stopped us to chat and admire our boats.
     O.K., O.K., so the Swedish bikini team bagged out at the last minute and Salma Hayek and the Coors Lite Beer Mobile broke down in Hoboken and never made it either. But what we DID have were three friends of mine from Vermont whom I told about the regatta. They motored out to us in their respective woodies and spent the entire day with us on Saturday, bobbing and floating under glorious sunshine. Two more friends from Vermont joined us for a way-good pot-luck feast Saturday night.
     In the beginning:
     My family and I arrived at Lake George on Friday, about 6 p.m. As the north end of Lake George came into view from our moving minivan, I eagerly craned my neck up, down, and side to side, to see through passing trees to the rippling slate-gray water. A large, white gaff-rigged sail was flying over a brilliant red hull.
     I smiled huge. He made it, I thought. Scott Widmier actually made it. Wow! Twelve hours all the way from Ohio! What a testament to the solidarity and camaraderie of the Stevenson-boat builder/skippers. What I was witnessing was the maiden voyage of Scott's Pocket Cruiser, and I'm here to tell you: it put a lump in my throat to actually see a fellow builder/skipper with whom up until then I had only a brief ``e'-lationship'' with on the BYYB message board.
     It was Scott who so eagerly had jumped at the chance to get together with a fellow Stevenson-builder/skipper. He enthusiastically responded to a message I posted about my recent weekend on Lake George. He and his wife have always wanted to go there, he said, and he had time off in August.
     Bam! Like that, Adam Plourde chimed in saying he wanted to meet us as well. Before the sun set that day we had initiated plans for the Northeast Fleet and the first-ever BYYB Regatta. Four boats; my Weekender, Scott's PC, and Weekender's by Adam and Ron Young - both of Taunton, Mass. We drafted Scott as our commodore and he readily accepted. (Sorry, Skipper, I realize I forgot to salute you!)
     By the time I set up camp Friday, Scott and his wife Laura had hauled their PC out of the water back to their campsite just down the road from mine. My three kids and I strolled on over to say hello, and I was finally able to put a face to the message board name.
     We talked boats. No, really, we did!
     I was in awe at the roominess of the PC, both in the cabin and the cockpit. This sucker is two feet shorter than my Weekender, yet roomier than a suite at the Waldorf. Scott did a magnificent job with the craftsmanship. His cockpit seats are open, giving the pit a wide open, airy, roomy feel. And eight feet of leg room in the cabin means no need to extend legs under cockpit seats.
     I showed Scott my Weekender Stolen Moments, which looks great in the photos, I told him, but in person has more nooks and crannies on the finish work than an English muffin. I showed him the many shortcuts I had made on my boat - such as screwing the plexiglass windows directly to the cabin wall without the use of frames - because my goal was to build her in a hurry, get her in the water and see how much I like it. If I bond with the boat I would haul her back to the shed in the winter for some upgrades.
     As I sail away into the second season with Stolen Moments, I can tell you I am impressed with her sailing ability and committed to keeping this boat on the water as long as possible. If there were any doubts about wanting to perform upgrades, they evaporated as soon as Ron and Adam pulled in Saturday morning with their boats. (They spent the first night at the wrong campsite! Sheesh, guys! Get a compass!)
     Words can not do justice to the detail and beauty of these two men's boats. Ron's, in particular, is stunning. If Salma Hyack had in fact made it to the regatta, she would have been the SECOND thing that men were gawking at, and only when Ron's boat was not in view.
     This winter I plan to give Stolen Moments her well-earned beautifcation treatment with ideas gleened from Adam, Ron and Scott. I want to go with a dark hull; those nifty West Marine deck plates for windows; raise my cabin four inches; and put storage pockets in the cockpit sidewalls, to name a few. I left the regatta super-charged to make Stolen Moments as eye-catching as the three other Stevenson boats she sailed with on Saturday.
     Er, I mean floated with, on Saturday. By now the No Blow is legend. After finally tearing away from the boat launch (so many people wanted to chat) it was about 11 a.m. And so we motored or paddled out, and there we floated until 4 p.m., waiting as expectantly as a kid on Christmas Eve for the wind to kick up.
     It never did.
     A fella in a small motor boat circled around us snapping pictures. I asked where he was from and he said he was shooting for a story for National Geographic. We'll have to see if anything comes of it.
     Lack of wind was no bummer to my three kids, Marshall, 8, Taylor, 7, and Helen, 4, who enjoyed the mostly calm water for swimming. (When we weren't getting bumped around from the wake of many speedboats, Marsh and Tay spent hours in the drink, swimming from boat to boat to boat and hopping a ride with just about every skipper in our 7-boat floatilla! (4 StevProj boats, 3 Vt. boats.).
     "Dad! This is the best time I've ever had in the boat!'' my son Taylor said afterwards. These kids just never stopped smiling, and the fellow skippers were real gentlemen to let my drenched and dripping sons climb aboard their impeccable crafts.
     Some of us swam, as well. Others just kept floating. It was nice to be so relaxed and have time to chat with other skippers. To be sure, we would much rather have been in a blow, but hey, Ma' Nature was saving her fury for Sunday - which the other skippers will have to write about because my family had to leave early Sunday morning to get to a 50th wedding anniversary.
     It was amazing how quickly we all bonded. Adam, Ron and Scott are good folk, and it was a pleasure to meet Laura.
     Best thing, though, is that it allowed my wife Susana to see that I'm not the only fella out there obsessed with building my boat.
     No way. Far from it.
     So if all goes well this winter, when I disappear into the garage and don't come out until spring with what will look like a brand, spanking new Stolen Moments, I think, perhaps, she'll understand a little better.
     "They were a nice bunch of guys,'' Susana said as we drove away from the park that Sunday.
      "Yes,'' I said. ``They certainly are.''

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