Prince and Helicopter Blackie

     My mother had two cats, a white tomcat which she called Prince, and a black female which she called Blackie. My brother and I called the black cat Helicopter Blackie, after its tail was caught in a door jam and was broken. When the black cat ran, the broken tail looked like a helicopter rotor spinning around.
     At age 13, my brother John was keenly interested in physics and math. He had a special interest in flight mechanics and motion. He used to watch birds fly, and tell me how they did it. At age 8, I didn't understand, but said I did.
     John was a model airplane hobbyist. He built his own model airplanes from kits containing balsam wood, paper, doping shellac, pins and glue. I helped him fly the planes. I also helped him pick up the pieces after a crash.
     One summer day, John got some splendid scientific inspiration. He had read that cats, if thrown in the air at any angle, always land on all four feet. Our parents were not home, so the moment was convenient to begin a new experiment.
     He picked up our white tomcat Prince and positioned himself on the front lawn facing the house. He said:
     "I'm going to throw the cat over the roof. Go around back, and watch as Prince comes down. Tell me if it lands on all fours."
     In a matter of seconds, I was in position in our backyard, and John threw Prince over the 1 1/2 storey frame house.
     Tumbling over the roof, head over heals, Prince landed on all four feet. The cat was confused and started to walk away. I caught him. My brother ran breathlessly into the backyard.
     "Well, what did you see?"
     "Landed on all fours," I reported proudly.
     My brother appeared satisfied. He reached out and petted Prince.
     The next day, John continued his experiments with Prince but set a different course. I stood by his side, looking up at him, as he announced:
     "Today we are going to the lake and we will see if a cat can swim."
     So he took Prince and me on a row-boating excursion on a small lake near our home. The cat was very agitated. When we were offshore about 100 feet, John threw the cat in the water.
     You never saw such an explosion of energy!
     Prince moved so fast he actually elevated a portion of his body above the water line. He was moving so fast he created a wake. John timed him with his watch. As Prince emerged from the water onshore, John said:
     "One hundred feet in twenty seconds. That's two seconds for every ten feet. Wow!"
As an afterthought, he said: "That cat of mine ran."
     Prince had already gone home when we came ashore.
     Cats don't waste time shaking off water like dogs. That's what I noted for scientific purposes. But John had noted the aerodynamics of the event, the way Prince had lifted his body partly above water. John was certain that lift contributed to the cat's incredible speed in water.
     My brother wrote a scientific paper based on this experiment and submitted it to his 8th grade teacher. She gave it back to him with the comment: CRUEL EXPERIMENT.
     Years later my brother explained to me that his teacher was an Australian woman, who kept the paper and secretly passed it to Philip Hercus of the Incat Company in Australia. To this day, although it was never registered, John insists there was trademark and patent infringement. His original wording in his 8th grade scientific paper: that cat of mine ran. 
     But we know it today as Catamaran.