By Stan Grossfeld | Globe Staff

NANTUCKET — For local sailors, Figawi is sacred, like Opening Day at Fenway Park. Sailboats trimmed oh-so-tightly seem to float across the water, kicking up a cool, salty spray.

On Memorial Day weekend, more than 240 boats and 1,000 sailors crossed a sunny and sometimes blustery Nantucket Sound from Hyannis to Nantucket in the 45th annual Figawi race.

Listen: Sounds of Figawi

"It's like a hallmark holiday for boats because it gets everyone motivated for the season," says Matt Hedrick, captain of Rivky, which sported a beautiful, puffy, green spinnaker. "Gets them out of the boatyard, gets them on the water, gets them sailing."


Listen: Matt Hedrick describes the day

Globe Staff Photo by Stan Grossfeld

The race's name has a salty origin.

"From what I've been told," says Hedrick with a laugh, "Figawi is a reference to [someone with a] Bostonian accent . . . coming out here in the fog and landing in Nantucket and going, 'Where the [expletive] are we?' "

At times, the sailboats were bunched close enough for the participants to share a sandwich.

“It was very close,” says Richard Blatterman of Duxbury, aboard Olé Olé. “It was not a day to enjoy a lot of cocktails when you were out on the water. I understand there was a boat that lost a mast. There was a collision right behind us.” of Duxbury, aboard Olé Olé. “It was not a day to enjoy a lot of cocktails when you were out on the water. I understand there was a boat that lost a mast. There was a collision right behind us.”

Globe Staff Photo by Stan Grossfeld

Tim Lynn of Hamden, Conn., sat with his brother on the edge of The Restless to help level the boat.

"It gets hairy every once in a while," he says. "It's a blast, it's fun."

This year, the headlines went to a couple of fun-loving landlubbers named Gronk and Edelman, who didn't even race but partied in the Figawi tent.

They weren't alone. After the race, all across the Nantucket Boat Basin, blenders purred and beers popped in a symphony of celebration. On Saturday night, there was a blood-red sunset; by Sunday morning, there were bloodshot eyes, but there was still plenty of laughter.

globe staff photo by Stan Grossfeld

What's the best part of the weekend?

“The friendship, the people,” says Bill Hanson , 66, aboard Sequioa out of Marion. “I mean, come on. I always say, how many summers do we have left?” , 66, aboard Sequioa out of Marion. “I mean, come on. I always say, how many summers do we have left?”