Showing posts with label Bill Sterett. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bill Sterett. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 10, 2019

Steretts join Pay 'n Pak hydro team

By Del Danielson
Reprinted from The Seattle Times, July 6, 1972

The Sterett family has joined the Pride of Pay 'n Pak unlimited-hydroplane team.

Bill Sterett, Sr., drove the boat in Tuesday's Indiana Governor's Cup regatta in Madison, Ind., when Bill Schumacher refused to "risk his life" on the debris-strewn Ohio River course. Schumacher said the course was too dangerous. After the race Schumacher announced he was "through with hydroplane racing for the year." Schumacher said he is “disillusioned with the sport and the executives who run it."

Dave Heerensperger, owner of the boat, said he was pleased with the driving job of Bill Sterett, Sr., and asked the 51-year-old Owensboro, Ky., resident to drive the rest of the year.

Prior commitments will keep the senior Sterett away from Sunday's President's Cup race in Washington, D. C.. but he will drive in the Tri-Cities' Atomic Cup and Seattle's Seafair event.

Bill Sterett, Jr., 25, who drove the Notre Dame last season, will be in the cockpit of the Pride this weekend on the Potomac River.

Monday, July 17, 2017

Remund named Pak driver

By Del Danielson
Reprinted from The Seattle Times, April 9, 1973

Mickey Remund, who gained his boat-racing fame in the cockpit of a 5-liter limited hydroplane, will pilot the unlimited Pride of Pay 'n Pak during the 1973 season.

The announcement that Remund will drive the Pride came at a press conference at noon today, but Remund has been employed by the Pay 'n Pak camp for several months. The Pride is fresh out of the shop, and Remund has been working with Ron Jones, the build, during construction.

Remund left for southern California after testing the Pride on Lake Washington this afternoon. He will attend his mother's funeral tomorrow, then return the Pacific Northwest. The Pride is scheduled for more testing — on the Columbia River at Pasco — later this week.

Three drivers saw duty in the Pride of Pay 'n Pak last summer. Bill Sterett, Sr., took over one race with Billy Schumacher quit at midseason. Billy Sterett was the pilot for the final three races of the year and wan the Washington D.C. President's Cup.

The Sterett family — including Billy's brother, Terry — has retired from unlimited racing.

This is not the first unlimited ride for Remund. He way limited duty in the Van's P-X in 1970 and '71.

Remund, of Garden Grove, Calif., holds the world straightaway record in the 5-liter class. In November, 1971, Remund pushed the Jones-designed Going Thing to 152.130 miles an hour through the kilo traps at Parker, Ariz.

On several occasions, Remund and the Going Thing were "over" the world competition record, only to stall because of mechanical failure. Two near misses were on Green Lake the past two summers.

"This is something I've wanted for quite a while," Remund said yesterday. "I really liked driving the Going Thing, but a guy can't make a living in a 5-liter."

"I think the Pride of Pay 'n Pak will be competitive in its first year. Jones builds a great boat, and the crew is top-notch. If we get enough testing time in, I think we can have the bugs worked out by Miami."

The unlimited season will begin May 20 in Miami's Marine Stadium.

"During testing, it really helps to have a regulation course set up. They've got that in Pasco, so we'll do a lot of work over there."

Remund's appointment fills the unlimited fleet's last vacancy for the coming season.

Ron Larsen, once the driver of the Pride of Pay 'n Pak, will pilot the Notre Dame. Dean Chenoweth, last year's Notre Dame driver, has returned to the Budweiser camp.

Bill Muncey, 1972 national champion, will return with the Atlas Van Lines. The backup Atlas of last season, still looking for a 1973 sponsor, will  make a the full circuit with Fred Alter at the wheel.

Charlie Dunn will again be the Miss Madison chauffeur. Jim McCormick hopes to compete at all '73 regattas, but is looking for a sponsor. Timex bailed out as McCormick's sponsor after last season.

Bill Wurster, a rookie last year will return in Bob Gilliam's Valu-Mart.

Saturday, April 16, 2016

Sterett drives 'Pak' to victory

Washington, DC, July 10, 1972 - (Special) - Bill Sterett, Jr., earned himself a permanent ride in the Pride of Pay 'N Pak yesterday scooting away from Bill Muncey on the final lap of the final heat to win the President's Cup unlimited-hydroplane race.


Sterett, a substitute driver for his father, Bill, Sr. in the Seattle-based Pride, scored a 1,200-point sweep and stopped Muncey's 1972 string at four straight victories.

Sterett and Muncey were tied with 800 points apiece going into the final heat on the muddy and wind-chopped Potomac River.

The two drivers battled side by side for five laps. Coming out of the first turn on lap six, the boats ran into traffic - Bob Gilliam in the Pizza Pete was just starting lap five. Sterett swung wide in the Pride and zipped pass Gilliam with no trouble. Muncey was caught behind Gilliam and had to let off and move around the Pete. The lapse allowed Sterett to open a three-second lead he carried to the finish line.

"There's no doubt who my driver is from now on," Dave Heerensperger, owner of the Pride, said. Heerensperger earlier had indicated that Bill Sterett, Sr., would drive in West Coast races.

The unlimiteds are en route to Pasco for the Tri-Cities' Atomic Cup July 23.

Muncey, driver of the Atlas Van Lines, was the odds-on favorite going into the seven-boat race after winning the Miami, Owensboro, Detroit (Gold Cup) and Madison regattas.

The Atlas still leads the national points chase with 5,800. The Pride has 4,925. The Budweiser, which placed third here yesterday, is third with 3,379. Gilliam's Pizza Pete ranks fourth with 3,016.

Thursday, March 10, 2016

The Race That Nobody Remembers

By Fred Farley - Unlimited Hydroplane Historian


The 1971 Madison Regatta will never be forgotten for as long as men race boats. That, of course, was the year when Jim McCormick guided the community-owned MISS MADISON to victory in the race of races--the APBA Gold Cup--before the hometown crowd.

But as memorable as the 1971 regatta was, no one seems to want to remember the race that followed it in 1972.

In lieu of the Gold Cup, the city of Madison hosted a World's Championship Race, which was sanctioned by the Union of International Motorboating. But while the '71 Gold Cup had gone off like clockwork, the '72 World's Championship had more problems than an arithmetic book.

The Ohio River had experienced some major flooding. The pit area was under water. And there was enough drift floating down the river that one could almost have walked across the Ohio. The race was set for Sunday, July 2. It ended up being run on Tuesday, July 4. And even then, it was nearly canceled.

The flooding was a major concern. Plus, a third of the Unlimited fleet--which included the MISS MADISON--had suffered major equipment damage the previous week at Detroit and weren't available to race at Madison.

The Unlimited Racing Commission's Executive Secretary Phil Cole probably did more than anyone else to insure that the 1972 Madison race happened. He convinced Madison Regatta President Jack Ice that congressional help was needed to bring the river under control so the race could be run.

Cole, a former MADISON COURIER reporter, utilized his contacts in government to close the locks upriver at Markland, Kentucky, and open the locks down river at Louisville. When that was accomplished, the level of the river dropped rather quickly.

Even so, Cole gave the race "about a 30 percent chance" of happening.

That's because only part of the problem was solved. The Kentucky River, which is located between Markland and Madison, was still dumping fresh debris into the Ohio River. The race committee alleviated that difficulty somewhat by sweeping over the course before each heat and picking up the floating garbage.

A faction of the Madison committee wanted to cancel the race and re-schedule for September (shades of 1998!). The late Paul Steinhardt led the pro-September group. But the ruling faction--headed by Jack Ice and Wilbur Heitz--eventually won out.

That was the strangest week that I ever spent at a boat race in my life. My official excuse for being there was as a reporter for RACE BOAT & INDUSTRY NEWS. (I hadn't yet been appointed as Unlimited Historian.) There was the burning question of whether or not there would be a race. And on top of that, I had friends on both sides of the issue of whether or not to go ahead with the July 4 date or postpone until Labor Day. I had a difficult time being objective.

The race fan in me wanted to see the race run on the Fourth. But that river bothered me. I asked Bill Cantrell, who was team manager for the ATLAS VAN LINES that year, "Mr. Cantrell, have you ever driven in water like this?" He answered, "Well, yes I have. But whenever I did, somebody always went over."

Eight boats were in town for the 1972 race. And frankly no one wanted to run because of the hazardous conditions. But Fred Alter, owner and driver of the TOWNE CLUB, argued forcefully, "If we don't run this race this year, there might not ever be another race in Madison." Reluctantly, the teams agreed to give it a try.

But Billy Schumacher, driver of the PRIDE OF PAY 'N PAK and a two-time winner of the Madison race, would have no part of it. "No way am I going to play leapfrog over logs," he declared. PAY 'N PAK owner Dave Heerensperger then prevailed upon retired MISS BUDWEISER pilot Bill Sterett, Sr., to step in as relief driver--even though Sterett hadn't driven in competition since 1969.

Unlimited qualifying and the entire Limited program were scrubbed at the 1972 Madison Regatta. In fact, the boats weren't able to move into the pit area until race day morning.

Madison's characteristically sunny summer weather was no where in evidence. The skies were overcast and the air was chilly on July 4.

Terry Sterett took the MISS BUDWEISER out for a shakedown cruise over the debris-laden course. He didn't like what he saw and described the conditions as marginal at best.

Referee Ken Wright told the drivers in Heat 1-A to go out and give him a thumbs-up or a thumbs-down. "If even one of you gives me a thumbs-down, I'll flag all of you all back in and cancel the whole thing. It's up to you." Everyone gave a thumbs-up. So Wright allowed the race to be run.

Nevertheless, nobody wanted to be the first to commit to running in 1-A. The seconds ticked away, and no one made a move to go in the water. The 5-minute gun fired and all of the boats were still sitting on their trailers! Finally, the PRIDE OF PAY 'N PAK crew gave the signal to the crane operator to lower away. Then everyone else followed suit. And the race was on.

Four heats of racing were run that day and no one "went over" as Bill Cantrell had feared. And two of the four heats were barn burners.

Bill Muncey easily won both of his heats (1-B and 2-B) with ATLAS VAN LINES and was declared the overall winner for the Joe Schoenith team.

Terry Sterett in MISS BUDWEISER out distanced Tom Sheehy in GO GALE by one tenth of a second in Heat 1-A.

Bill Sterett in PRIDE OF PAY 'N PAK brought the crowd to its feet with a bravura come-from-behind performance in Heat 2-A. After a late start, Bill worked his way up through the field. He passed first one boat and then another to take the win at a solid 107 miles per hour--the fastest heat of the day.

Heat 2-A also represented a rare Unlimited Class instance where a father and a son raced against each other. When Bill ducked inside of Terry's roostertail and pulled even with his son on the backstretch, the crowd went wild. The PAK and the BUD dueled through the bridge turn together and were side-by-side at the exit buoy. Bill out accelerated his son and went on for the win, while Terry faded to third behind his Dad and Tom Sheehy.

With all of the bother about rescheduling the race from Sunday to Tuesday, no one remembered that the DELTA QUEEN river boat was to make a scheduled pass by Madison on its way from Louisville to Cincinnati on July 4. As the boats for Heat 2-B were being lowered into the water, around the bend came the DELTA QUEEN, crowded with passengers and with the calliope blasting away.

The unexpected appearance on the race course of the massive sternwheeler lent an air of unreality to the already mixed-up proceedings. The common reaction: "What else can go wrong?"

The DELTA QUEEN tore up one or two course buoys and stirred up the river even more than it already was. But Heat 2-B was still run to its conclusion without incident.

Then a thick fog cover set in over the race area. Visibility was so impaired that spectators on the Madison side of the river couldn't even see the Kentucky shore. At this point, referee Wright announced cancellation of the Final Heat and declared the race a contest on the basis of points scored in the preliminary heats.

ATLAS VAN LINES was first, MISS BUDWEISER second, GO GALE third, MISS TIMEX (with Jim McCormick) fourth, PIZZA PETE (with Bob Gilliam) fifth, PRIDE OF PAY 'N PAK sixth, and TOWNE CLUB seventh, while COUNTRY BOY (with Salt Walther) failed to finish.

Billy Schumacher, together with his wife Cyndee, watched the 1972 Madison race from the shore. Many persons supported Billy's decision not to race that day, including veteran racer George N. Davis of IT'S A WONDER fame. But Schumacher was persona non grata with the PAY 'N PAK team and found himself replaced by Billy Sterett, Jr., at the remaining three races of the season.

As Unlimited Historian, I've been asked many times if I thought Schumacher was justified in walking away from his team at such a crucial moment. That's a tough one. In my view, it's inappropriate for someone such as myself who has never driven in an Unlimited race to point the finger of blame at someone who is one of the sport's most respected champions.

It does bother me that Billy was alone in his refusal to race. A lot of people wrestled with the problem of how to proceed on July 4, 1972, and came to a different conclusion. These included the other drivers, all the owners, the crews, the local committee, the APBA officials, and the Army Corps of Engineers. All decided to make the best of a bad situation and to give it a try. But Schumacher had a difference of opinion, which he had a right to express.

It is well known that Billy and PRIDE OF PAY 'N PAK crew chief Jim Lucero were at odds on how to set up the boat in 1972. PRIDE OF PAY 'N PAK had scored impressive victories at the last three races of 1971. But the '72 season had been an exercise in frustration with Schumacher being trounced in every race by Bill Muncey and ATLAS VAN LINES.

When Bill Sterett took over Schumacher's seat at Madison, he failed to start in Heat 1-A but then really "flew" the boat in Heat 2-A--much to the delight of Lucero.

Where Schumacher and Lucero were concerned, it was a case of an irresistible force against an unmovable object.

On a race team, there can be only one leader. Everyone must pull in the same direction. A team must be unified or there is chaos.

Detroit race official Jack Love lamented the outcome of the 1972 Madison Regatta. He told THE MADISON COURIER's Graham Taylor, "I've never seen so many things go wrong at a single boat race in my life."

When regatta president Jack Ice spoke at the awards banquet the night of the race, he told the assembled owners, drivers, crew members, and race officials, "I said all along that we'd have a boat race come hell or high water. And I've been catching hell ever since we got the high water."

Monday, December 21, 2009

...and Bombers Hit The River

Reprinted from Sports Illustrated, July 17, 1972

In one of the most unexpected upsets—and thrilling races—unlimited hydroplanes have known, a man who had never won before seized the President's Cup on the Potomac from the sport's last hero.

Sunday on the Potomac. The thought of it seems to travel with a picture of a tranquil glade, a promise of stillness. A place where you can lie back on a blanket and ponder the birth of a nation, try to imagine old Tom Jefferson over there in his study dipping his quill pen. Ah, the Potomac: a river of the gods. Long ago, that is. For the Potomac today is a nastier place, a place where you can be poisoned, perturbed and—this since 1926—have your meatus acusticus externus and your ductus cochlearis torn apart.
Winner Bill Sterett Jr. bounces a few decibels off the Capital on the way to victory.
These are parts of the ear, and last Sunday on the banks of the Potomac they were assaulted once more as 53,000 persons audited the 41st annual President's Cup unlimited hydroplane race. In a way it was an unusual race as far as hydroplanes are concerned; nobody got killed. It was even more unusual for other reasons. Bill Muncey, the overwhelming favorite, did not win, and it was perhaps the best and most dramatic race in the history of the sport.

It became that when Bill Sterett Jr., driving a boat called Pride of Pay 'N Pak, tore into a six-lap final-heat thriller with Muncey, who was at the wheel of Atlas Van Lines. They had come out of the preliminary heats dead even, and as they roostertailed upstream and down, sometimes side by side, one wondered how Cal Coolidge, for whom the cup was named, could have taken a fancy to the sport. The Silent One abhorred noise, even the sound of his own voice. It was a stubborn riddle that would not dissolve as Muncey and Sterett turned loose their enormous, bellowing hogs on the rain-swollen river.

Nobody had given Sterett much of a chance. He was a substitute driver who had never won a race. He replaced Bill Schumacher, the ace who had quit a few days earlier, deriding the boat and damning the river as a harbor of debris. Like, say, a refrigerator that once floated down to a point smack in the middle of the course. "Call it the river you can walk across," said Schumacher. There was also one other hard fact not in the substitute's favor: Bill Muncey and the thunder under him.

No matter how you cut it, no matter how repellent his ego is to some, Muncey is hydroplane racing, this year more than ever. No one had been able to come close to him this season, even though he and the Atlas had suffered a disappointing campaign last year. "We just couldn't seem to come up with the right combination of equipment for him then," said one of his aides, dwelling on things like proper spark plugs, gearboxes, propeller sizes. "It's all machinery," he said. "That's what this sport is about. Add Muncey to the right machinery, and you're almost unbeatable."

Going into this President's Cup—second in hydroplane prestige only to the Gold Cup—Muncey was after his fifth straight victory and his sixth on the Potomac. He is the last of the big name drivers, so many of whom have been killed off—three in a President's Cup race one grisly year.

None of this seems to bother Muncey, but his career does not enthrall his wife. "He can quit anytime," she says. "I'm ready, that's for sure." Says Muncey: "I guess I stay on because it's an ego trip for me now. I need it. The money surely isn't worth the risk, and there must be a hundred easier ways to gain fame."

The wave you cannot avoid, the sudden mechanical failure that can blow you to the sky, the memories of friends ripped apart internally and not a scratch on them—all of this moves through his mind. "I have a low pain level, a low fear level," he says. Twice he has been blown out of a boat, "but I can't even tell you what it felt like." No longer young—he's 43—and never a thrill freak or a roughneck on the course, Muncey drives mostly with his head now as he gets on toward the 20th year of a dazzling career.

So it figured that with the Atlas under him—plus his complete grasp of what he does—Muncey could play the flute or clarinet in the cockpit (he has sat in with the Gene Krupa band and the Seattle Symphony) and still obliterate the kid Sterett, leave him so far back that he would have his hands full just trying to fight the massive wash from the Atlas. Anyway, that was the talk among the more informed on the Potomac banks as the afternoon wore away, helped along by Guy Lombardo—good old Guy, once a hydroplane owner himself, climbing up on the bandstand and directing his way through, yeah, you guessed it, Auld Lang Syne. Moved, the announcer then delivered a verse about a grocer: "My, how his business prospered/Folks were always in his store/For he'd give an honest measure/Then he'd add just a little bit more."

The message of the verse was as elusive as the lead in the final heat for the cup. Sterett and Muncey went into it with 800 points apiece. They battled on each other's hip for the first three laps, with neither boat gaining a substantial advantage. Then Sterett seemed to fall behind for a lap. But he quickly moved back up alongside Muncey on the fifth lap, and they stayed that way until the first turn on the sixth, when Sterett drew ahead. Then Muncey and the Atlas ran into traffic in the form of a boat named Pizza Pete. Sterett seized the moment and gunned into the lead to stay, flashing across the finish line just 3 seconds ahead. Sterett's fastest heat of 109.090 mph came near the 1962 record of 109.157 clocked by Muncey. The entire race, and especially the finish, left the crowd buzzing and hydroplane officials ecstatic.

"It's the best race I've ever seen in 25 years of watching," said O.H. Frisbie, president of the company that sponsors the Muncey team.

"Hey, boys," an official shouted to the press. "Great balls of fire! You'll never overwrite this one."

The officials had a right to be jubilant. A race such as this gives them something to talk about, like back in the grand old days when the only time you ever saw a hydro was in the newsreels, and there were good old Guy and Horace Dodge, with ascots around their necks, waving jauntily to the cameras.

Why, maybe even Calvin Coolidge, too.