1986 Budweiser Hydrocade
The fastest drivers, their perilous boats
By Brian MacQuarrie, Inquirer Staff Writer
The hydroplanes are here, and sports-crazy Philadelphia has never seen anything like them.
For the next three days, these 2½-ton water bullets will turn the normally placid Delaware River into a maelstrom of spray and ear-pounding noise.
The fun comes courtesy of the tight little fraternity of unlimited-hydroplane racers, and the spectacle of daredevil pro competition on a perilous course is expected to lure more than 300,000 spectators to the banks of the Delaware.
A host of peripheral attractions — ranging from music to magic — has been added to this weekend’s River Spectacular on the Delaware, an inaugural event that its promoters are hoping to make an annual late-sum-mer extravaganza.
But the unlimited hydroplanes — so named because, until this year, there was no limit to their speed, power or the size of their engines — are the stars of this show, and the world’s best syndicates will be here to test the mettle of their machinery, the skill of their mechanics and the nerves of their drivers.
Those drivers will include the sport’s superstars — drivers such as Chip Hanauer, who has piloted the Miller American to victory in five of the last six races, and Jim Kropfeld, who last weekend set a two-mile lap record of 134.617 m.p.h. in the Miss Budweiser.
It’s a sport that attracts drivers who are toughened to danger, a sport that attracts the backing of corporations that don’t mind spending more than $1 million a year to race a boat in engine-cracking competition.
"Hydroplane racing — and unlimited racing in particular — is among the most dangerous sports there are," said race chairman Bill Dougherty.
"I expect it to be a madhouse. There will be tremendous noise, you can’t ignore the element of danger and there’s nothing quite like the sight of a white ‘rooster tail’ of water — 50 feet high and a quarter-mile long."
Unlimited hydroplanes are designed along the principles of an airplane wing. Engineered to provide a small amount of lift when racing, they ride on the water on two front support arms, called sponsons, and the rear of the boat.
The result is speed, and the effect is electrifying.
The five-lap championship race, the Budweiser Hydrocade ’86, starts at 4 p.m. Sunday. Until then, drivers will get a feel for the Delaware in time trials today and tomorrow and in four qualifying heats Sunday.
Individual time trials will be held today from 10 a.m. to noon and from 2 to 5 p.m. on a two-mile oval course just south of the Ben Franklin Bridge. The action will pass in front of Penn’s Landing in Philadelphia and Wiggins Waterfront Park in Camden.
In the trials, a boat must average "only" 105 m.p.h. to advance to Sunday’s qualifying heats. For boats that are capable of reaching 200 m.p.h., the trials primarily help the racers adjust their strategies and boats to the course.
On the Delaware — on what is considered a tight, tough layout — the trials will be crucial. Hanauer, the 1985 national champion and this year’s leading driver, said he expected "an extremely rough race course."
"There are cement bulkheads on both sides of the river," Hanauer said, "and that means the wake from the boats will reverberate onto the course."
That’s just one variable. Hanauer said the river current runs over an irregular bottom that can cause the water level to drop unexpectedly. And then there’s the tidal action.
Add those considerations to an equation that includes blinding walls of water, 180 m.p.h. straightaway speeds, constant pounding and the ever-present threat of engine explosion, and you get a vague idea of what the drivers experience.
"It’s unlike anything else I’ve ever participated in — being hurled across the water in a 5,000-pound piece of machinery," said Hanauer, 31. "It demands super concentration and an ability to develop a oneness with the boat, so that the boat becomes an extension of your own body."
This goal was articulated in calm, measured tones by a man who, only days before, had had a 2,650-horsepower turbine engine explode two feet from his head on Lake Onondaga, N.Y.
That happened in a time trial on Saturday. The crew then labored through the night to ready the boat, which had been peppered with shrapnel, for the Sunday final.
Their labor bore fruit — Hanauer drove the Miller American to victory.
"The boat was always better-looking than I was," Hanauer said, "but after that explosion, I think we’re both as ugly as each other."
Miss Budweiser driver Jim Kropfeld wishes his boat had held together as effectively. In qualifying last weekend, Kropfeld pushed the craft to world records for a two-mile lap (138.832 m.p.h.) and average heat speed (134.6i7), only to suffer a blown engine on the third lap of the final. As Kropfeld sat dead in the water, arch-rival Hanauer sped to victory. The Miss Budweiser will be back in action for this weekend’s racing.
Miller and Budweiser, the two brewing giants, are the strongmen of the unlimited circuit. Between them, they have won all seven of this year’s races. With four races left, Miller leads, 5-2.
The gap hasn’t daunted Miss Budweiser owner Bernie Little, whose 55 wins and 24 years in the sport have made him the circuit’s elder statesman.
"We go out there to win," Little said. "We either win the thing, or we break the engine trying. We carry six spare engines with us wherever we go."
Those engines — their turbine design that has revolutionized the sport — separate the top boats from the rest. The two leaders and the Miss 7-Eleven, which also will race here, are equipped with jet-fueled turbine engines that routinely outperform their piston-driven counterparts.
This year, the turbine models, also used in helicopters, have been restricted to 2,650 horsepower to make the races more competitive. They are run at 97 to 100 percent power.
The piston engines usually have been salvaged from World War II-vintage airplanes and must be run at about 4,500 revolutions per minute — almost twice the 2,400 r.p.m. effort for which they were designed.
That means the Hydrocade’s three piston-driven boats — the Oh Boy! Oberto, the Miss Madison and the Cellular One — will be at a big disadvantage. But with only six boats entered, all the competitors have a good chance to make the final.
Today’s time trials, tomorrow’s time trials (10 a.m. to noon) and qualifying heats (2 to 5 p.m.) and Sunday’s preliminary heats will pare only one boat from the championship race. Assuming that each boat reaches 105 m.p.h. in the trials, the field will be divided into groups of three for the qualifying heats.
Each boat will run two heats Sunday. Points will be awarded for the order of finish, and the five boats with the most points will advance to the final. The heats will be held at 11:45 a.m. and 12:15, 2 and 2:45 p.m.
The competition should be intense during qualifying, because the winner of each five-lap heat receives points toward the national championship.
The races are fast and furious, and they're also over quickly. Five laps of a two-mile course at 140 m.p.h. means less than five minutes of driving time.
But that’s only half the action. For five minutes before each heat and the final, drivers are allowed to move their boats virtually anywhere on the course. The object is to maneuver yourself into the inside lane, crossing the starting line at top speed, just as the countdown reaches zero seconds.
"A lot of the racing goes on during that five-minute period. You fight for that inside lane as hard as you can," Kropfeld said.
"It’ll be a little scary for the spectators. Unless you know the boat, you don’t know how far it can go over," said Miss Budweiser spokeswoman Bonnie Anderson.
Frightening for the spectators, perhaps. For the drivers, it’s another day on the job.
"I don’t think I’m scared out there," said Kropfeld, "at least not scared in the way that you would be if someone jumped out at you with a knife.
"There’s fear, I suppose, but it’s probably fear, more than anything else, that keeps you safe. Everything happens so fast, you don’t have time to think about being scared."
Kropfeld, 45, knows about danger. He was hired to pilot the Miss Budweiser in 1982, two races after its star driver, Dean Chenoweth, was killed during competition at Pasco, Wash.
In 1972, Kropfeld was leading a limited-hydroplane race in Kentucky when his boat spun out and stalled. He climbed on deck, and his craft was rammed by another boat doing 90 m.p.h. Kropfeld spent 35 days in the hospital and six months away from racing.
"Every day, I have problems with my legs from the injuries. I can’t change it, but I don't let it stop me from doing anything," he said. "This is all I’ve ever done. I have no other hobbies — I don’t play tennis and I don’t play golf.
"This is my thrill, and I’ve always been good at it. If I wasn’t good at it, I wouldn’t be here."
(Reprinted from The Philadelphia Inquirer, August 22, 1986)