As we approached Platform C that day, I had totally cramped up in both legs and thought I needed to access the head. With MVP riding the mainsheet, Rookie was the most able-bodied helmsman available and accepted the assignment. The racket below was unbearably loud and chaotic. It sounded as if the rig and hull were separating. I returned, working my way aft, armed with a camera and fresh beer. Rookie had kept us in the game. I recovered the helm in time for the rounding of the Platform. As I recall, it was four or five boats abreast: 35-45 ft boats surfing like Lasers. I think we took a 3rd, but that is insignificant compared to the memories seared in my mind.