Special: The Large Economy Size In Gold Cups

Once during a race on Lake Mead, Muncey's propeller broke off and slashed its way through the hull. The gearbox burst and bearings ricocheted around his legs like shrapnel.

In the workshop back of the three-level house where Bill, Kit and their three kids live, high on a Seattle hill, there is a jagged and terrifying piece of a Miss Thriftway that blew up with Muncey in it. Near by is a series of photographs showing the boat disintegrating on the Ohio River in one of hydro racing's most spectacular accidents. "Nevertheless," says Bill Muncey, "I don't believe in luck. It makes me sore if somebody says 'good luck' to me before a race. If you're adequately prepared, you don't need luck."

Muncey attributes his success and his survival to respect for his Rolls-Royce engines, to 20 years' experience as a hydro driver, to a gang of assistants he calls the "best and most dedicated pit crew in hydroplane racing" and to the knowledgeable supervision of Thriftway's Wil-lard Rhodes, who gets up anywhere from $30,000 to $50,000 annually to keep the various Miss Thriftways racing.

"I don't consider myself a colorful driver," Muncey admits. " Lou Fageol was colorful. Colonel Russ Schleeh is colorful. Miro Slovak is colorful. I'm not so interesting to watch. But when that checkered flag goes down, I try to see that I'm there. I consider it my responsibility to Thriftway stores."