I proceeded to draw up a hull, lay it out full-size and begin construction. I was about 23 or 24 and was building the 7 litre Whiz Ski in my basement at home at the same time. So during the day I would work on Whiz Ski and at night work on the 136 hull for my good friend, John Leach. I wasn't exactly a full-fledged woodworker as yet so I think it took a few months to build.. And I also remember that once John got the engine installed, you couldn't get in the
cockpit unless you wanted to cut off your legs.

Ultimately John got himself fit into the boat and we were ready to test. In those wonderful days you could test your boat on Lake Washington, anytime, any day and without permits. So we went to where the pits are now but there were not pits there then.

So we tested and thought we were pretty hot. There was to be a race on Lake Sammamish, where we race now, in
a week or two, so we got ready. By the way, there was no park there then, just an open field next to the lake.

Neither John nor I had any idea what we had to do to enter, etc.., but eventually we got it handled on race day. But something new rose its ugly head - very rough Sammamish water. But we watched other people racing and assumed we could do it too.

So, when John's heat came up, first one of his career, I pushed his boat and trailer out into the lake and went back to help John get into the boat. Once he was ready we waited a few minutes for the 5 minute gun. When it went off (they used little cannons in those days) I pushed him away and off he went. There were quite a few participants in his class, and finally they made a start. Not only was the water rough, but 8 or 9 entries left a lot of wakes, especially when you
were behind, and John's first heat of inboard racing was a nightmare, and he couldn't wait to get it over with and get back on the beach. I was standing in the water waiting for his return, and didn't expect what was to happen next.

He got out of the boat, walked right past me without saying anything, backed the trailer in the water and got me to help him load the boat and then told me that was his first and last race. The water was so rough that he said he would never race again and the boat was For Sale.

Well, John was my friend, and I wanted to help him. So I re-fueled the boat, drained it and got it ready for the final heat. While I was working on it the oil pressure gauge sprung a leak and was shooting oil inside the cockpit. I got that handled and the boat was ready for the final. The only thing was John said if it was going to be in the final I would have to drive it because he wouldn't so when the heat came up, I got the boat launched, asked someone to hold it for me, and I went up on the beach, literally picked John up, and I carried him out to the boat and stuffed him in the seat, and say very firmly, "you drive this thing, and you drive it hard!" I gave him his jacket and helmet and pushed him away. He drove a reasonable race and came in feeling quite different than after the first heat, even though the water was still very
rough.

Now, if you know anything about John Leach's racing career, you know he became one of the best, if not the very best driver ever to compete in boat racing. There was nothing he couldn't do with a hydro, and his litany of wins, championships, world records in both the straightaway and on the race course testify to his greatness.

All the years he raced limiteds, I tried to get some of the unlimited owners to consider him for their driver, but in those days owners were hard to consider, and they would often choose some friend's cousin or an airplane pilot before they would choose a limited driver. If anyone could and should have driven an unlimited it was John.

Yes, I am very favorable toward John, but I think my years of experience (58) qualify me to judge boat drivers, and John deserves the credit. He has been one of my very best friends for 50 years, and I would like to express my thanks to a great guy who did a lot to advance my boat designs as well as being a good friend.

Ron Jones