Author: Rob DeWitte

This race report is dedicated to Lazy Sheet…get well soon, bro, we missed you!

Heading out to the bay this evening, I thought there would be no race at all.  The lake and the bay were shimmering like smoothly undulating mirrors, with nary a whisper to push a boat.  But the optimist in me saw the cloud cover rolling away propelled by a westerly gradient wind up high.  The sun started shining on the land; perfect conditions for a sea breeze to establish.  And sure enough, near the western shore we saw ripples on the water that spread across the bay as the breeze filled in.  We hoisted sail near the start line in 5+ knots of easterly sea breeze.  Brilliant!

With Lazy Sheet getting some health care, and Skootch on a trip, there were four of us on board.  There were definitely times when we missed the extra hands (I thought of using my teeth once, and then changed my mind), but I think we can honestly say that it wasn’t a problem in this very pleasant, steady breeze.  We are definitely learning how to handle the spinnaker smoothly — every maneuver went off without a hitch.  Special shout out to Four Hands alone on the foredeck, but of course, having four hands, he has an advantage over mere mortals! (Truth be told, Squirrel helped with the douses)

We are also learning how to trim the sails and tune the boat.  Reviewing the raceQs feed, I can conclude that we have found our light wind settings: cap shrouds at 68mm and mids and lowers nice and floppy.  Tacking angles were 87 degrees on average (even better when I didn’t over-steer:  best was 83 degrees, which would put us right on the theoretical minimum)!

The other evidence that we’ve got our tuning correct for these conditions came right at the start…

Timing was great, as we had a chance to reach along the line at full speed before hardening up at the gun.  Eclipse started coming up from below us, pointing just a hair higher.  On other nights, they’ve been able to luff us up and climb through our dirty air to smother us on our lee bow.  But tonight they couldn’t catch us, and we crawled away from them, giving them our dirty air as we slipped into their lee bow.  What a victory!  Credit to the guys for trimming the sails exquisitely.  Next came a tack onto port.  We were even with our fleet, but didn’t have right of way, so we had to put in three tiny dips in a row, shaving the stern of Eclipse, Take Notice Again (Yes, “Big Yellow” is back!), and finally Battlewagon. No worries, we were heading into better air over near the Hamilton shore.  Sure enough, by the time we tacked again, we had consolidated a lead over everyone except Sabotage (That’ll be the day!), and rounded the mark in firm second place.

Next came a strategic error:  we had noticed that the wind was stronger over on the Hamilton shore, so we should have put in a jibe-set at the windward mark, to sail over into the better air.  Instead, we kept with the bear-away set, which is easier and faster, but it sent us to the weaker side of the course.  Even though we sailed hotter angles downwind than our competition, we didn’t really gain any ground.  We did this twice.  Looking back, I think it cost us quite a bit. If we had sailed hot angles in the better wind on the Hamilton side, we would have added distance on our competition.

But then came the tactical error, and this one definitely cost us dearly:  approaching the leeward mark with Eclipse in pursuit, we entered the infinite black hole of their wind shadow and they began to close the distance rapidly.  With other traffic around and no experience to guide my decision making, I made a big blunder.  I should have stayed in front of them, claimed the inside lane at the mark and forced them outside — never mind that they would have almost caught up, at least I would be ahead and could choose which side of the course to sail (ie: the Hamilton side where the wind was better).  Instead, I put in a jibe late in the leg, so that we could get boat speed.  it worked, but it also opened an inside lane for Eclipse.  So, when we doused, we were beside them, and we rounded we were to leeward, and as they pulled away we were smothered the entire time in bad air.  By the time we got up to speed, they were five boat lengths ahead — out of range for us to overtake.  Then we did the sensible thing, tacked away to clear air and split the course — but this pushed us to a zone of lighter air.  Rather than catching them, we gave some ground to Big Yellow, who overtook us at the windward lay line, and to Battlewagon, pressing on from the windier side of the course. Perhaps we should have footed off and gone for speed and clear air?

I think I have learned my lesson!

Next hoist was great, same strategic error downwind, which brought us to a very tight finish.  Eclipse got away from us, we overtook Big Yellow, and so did Battlewagon.  In the end, we crossed ahead of Battlewagon — a moral victory — but after PHRF correction, they beat us by THREE SECONDS….(sigh).  But Big Yellow was well astern of us, finishing last.

So the sailing was great, the boat speed was awesome, the pointing was fantastic, the maneuvers were flawless — we have learned so so so much of the fundamentals.

But the strategy was flawed and the tactical error was painful — and so opens another chapter of our learning.  Great fun!

(Later that night at the awards get-together I talked with Ken Denholm, skipper of Eclipse.  He was so surprised we gave him room at the mark.  We had a laugh and then he and Doug Folsetter taught me what we should have done — great sportsmanship from our competition)

So that was the race.  Reading this, you probably think we were sad about the mistakes.  Not at all!  We had a great time out there, thoroughly enjoying having the boat zooming along in a steady breeze, and savouring the triumph of smooth maneuvers with a short-handed crew.  The only thing that cast a pall on our time was our concern for Mark.

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Post Script:  Four Hands has installed a new innovation in PERSPECTIVE to aid in packing the spinnaker bag — plastic hooks in the forepeak to hold the spinnaker clews.  There’s one on each side, just forward of the bulkhead.  We can hang our clothes on them when cruising :-):

The picture says it all!  Midsummer 2016 was an absolutely glorious night to be on the water.  Thanks to The Cunning Ham for this shot.

And it was a surprising night!  Wind forecasts were calling for very big wind (up to 20 knots plus gusts even higher).  At the dock we debated which headsail to put up, and decided to motor out to the start area and see what was developing.  It was windy, but not intimidating, maybe 12 knots with gusts.  If we knew the wind would drop, we would have set out with our #1 genoa.  But one last look at the forecast warned of bigger wind ahead, so we changed sails on the water (a new trick), and installed the old #3.

At the start of the race, this seemed like the right choice — we were perfectly balanced, pointing just as high as the J35s and sailing just as fast.  What a revelation!  What a confirmation!  (I had become nearly convinced that our trouble pointing with the new #3 is due to its excess luff curve — up to 5″ — compared to the luff hollow — about 2.5″ — in the old #3.  Now I’m convinced).  This also confirms that we’ve learned a lot about how to tune the rig so that we could keep the mainsail powered up in big wind.

So, we were off to a great start, charging along the line toward the pin end, crossing near the favoured end with clear air and full boat speed.  What a great night to race on the bay!

And then the wind started to drop, and so did our boat speed, and well before the approach to the windward mark it became clear that we had been tricked by the weather forecast, had set the wrong headsail, as one by one the rest of the fleet overtook us.  Alack!

What to do?

First, I began to compose my Christmas wish list to Santa for a #2 jib.  I better be a good boy!

Second, Gil recognized that the wind had shifted, and we needed to set our spinnaker on port (pole on starboard), which meant a jibe-set, rather than the more usual bear-away set.  Yep, we got that right!  It took a wee bit longer, but we were sailing in the right direction the entire time, whereas a bear-away set followed by a jibe would have taken us well off course.

Then, Kiwi’s experience kicked in.  We decided to change our headsail during the downwind leg, so rather than furling it, we dropped it to the deck.  Once we were on course with our Spinnker filled, the lads swapped sails once again and we were ready to fly the #1 on the next upwind leg.  Good practice, great learning.  Next, we’ll need to work out how to do that while sailing upwind — it is technically possible, but might need some adjustments in the gear.

Back to the race — it quickly became a drifter with shifty wind that eventually rotated forward so that we decided to drop the spinnaker midway through the leg, and sail upwind to the “leeward” mark with the #1 genoa.  We were still behind our fleet, but not by much.

Once we rounded — and what a beautiful scene — the wind seemed to fill a bit, and we were moving along fine when we heard that the race had been abandoned — there was zero wind up at the finish line.

So, we got some free lessons tonight:

• We point just as high as the J35s when we have the right headsail for the conditions
• With the smaller headsail, and a fully powered main, we don’t give up much speed when the wind is strong.
• We have learned how to anticipate the need for a jibe set and execute it.
• We have learned how to change the headsail on the downwind leg
• And you can’t trust the wind forecast!

Afterwards, Nonsuch had a great spread of snacks, a bit of rain began to fall, so we crammed down below, joined by Squirrel, so there were seven of us in the cabin.  Kiwi improvised a seat on the ottoman (aka spinnaker).  I can hear it already:  “Hoist the Ottoman!”  That would certainly startle the competition at the windward mark 🙂

On Saturday we had our first regatta with the big genoa and symmetrical spinnaker, competing against a group of big boats including — in order of magnitude Sabotage (Viper 830), Starry Night (J44), Eclipse (41 feet), Code Secret (J35) and us.

It was a hot hot day, with strong sun beating down on us, made more intense by a very light breeze that changed direction  throughout the afternoon: the first race was set heading upwind toward the west, the second race had windward to the east, and the third race was southeast.

We got the spinnaker up and around and down without a hitch.  In fact, our hoists were flawless (see especially hoist #2), and I would say we have now figured this out.  Especially impressive with Fairlead and Lindsay on the foredeck — first time up there for both with the spinnaker pole.

But the highlight of the day was the hat trick.  On the first downwind leg of the first race, Nonsuch knocked is very new Tilley hat into the water.  Such a shame, such a nice hat, what a loss.  But on our second downwind leg of that race (about half an hour later), at about the same spot, we started to think about Mark’s hat again, and lo and behold, there it was, floating in the water a wee bit ahead and a wee bit to port.  A big hustle on board, and a slight change of course, and Nonsuch was re-united with his hat! (and the $20 inside, unless that was a finder’s fee :-))

How did we fair against such stiff competition in such flukey wind?  We managed to finish each race ahead of someone (2x Eclipse, 1x Code Secret), and even gave Starry Night a bit of a run for their money on the first race with the lightest wind.

 

Looking forward to our next regatta — fresh air, good company, great snacks and lots of laughs. Just a bit less heat and a bit more wind, please!

 

Yes, Lazy Sheet took a bath.  Calmly, I mentioned to Bob that I was experiencing a tad of weather helm, and calmly he eased the traveler.  And in that interval, the low side of the boat plunged happily beneath the surface, smothering our foresail trimmer in a cozy blanket of baywater.  Glancing casually at the sole of the cockpit, I observed four inches of water merrily draining away, and simply return my focus to steering.

And such was our adventure tonight.  Somehow, despite big wind, the big genoa, plenty of hanging on for dear life…somehow, we just stayed calm and rocketed around the bay, laughing at all the gusts.

Yes, we bent a stanchion.  Yes we nearly launched Four Hands (again), yes, the spinnaker pole hit the forestay (again), and yes we washed both sides of the deck.  And yes, IT WAS A BLAST!!!!  Did we make the right choice at the dock (installing the big jib)?  Maybe not, but it was so much fun!  Besides, although the wind was blowing and the gusts were strong, nature wasn’t nearly as angry as on Tuesday night — and there is only one way to find out:  try!

Not only was the wind intense, but the course was intense too.  Before the start, we had to go back to the committee boat for a second look to make sure we had it correct.  Yes, we did: three upwind legs, two downwind legs and a reach to boot.  Game on.  Ready. Set. Go!

[Check out the duel with battlewagon, here in square brackets]

We timed our start well, and got clear air around the middle of the line, charging away with just Sabotage (who else?) crossing our bow.  Up we went, heeling like crazy in the mad gusts, crossing the other boats until the windward mark.  Once again, we rounded last in our fleet, just astern of Sandpiper. [180m behind Battlewagon]

But once again our spinnaker made all the difference.  Tonight we were the only ones in our fleet brave (crazy) enough to fly our kite, cresting over 9.1 knots on the downwind leg, passing everyone.  We were the third to the leeward mark [35m ahead of Battlewagon].   The next tack was made especially for us:  a reach to mark number 7.  Lazy Sheet put into practice everything he learned on the weekend, and we added another 150m to our lead on Battlewagon [180m behind us].

Upwind again, we lost ground [now 120m behind Battlewagon], but this leg was exhilerating — check out the footage!

Hoist again for a longer run back to mark 12 and we surged ahead once more [now 110m ahead of Battlewagon].  Was it enough to cover them to upwind finish?  We were getting optimistic, especially when the had to dip us before the approach to the finish line, but the fickle wind in the home stretch was not on our side, and we were 60m behind Battelwagon when they finished.  Just six boat lengths.  Just ten seconds!

But never mind!  What a fantastic ride to remember — better than anything they offer at Canada’s Wonderland 🙂

(and we all know what Lazy Sheet is getting for a gag gift:  Soap on a rope, for his next bath onboard!

What a blast!  This was the biggest wind we’ve ever raced in, with gusts that were knocking boats over.  We stayed on our feet, but gave both sides of the deck a good rinse.

I don’t have video proof tonight — of all the nights to leave the camera off — but one scene should sum it up in your mind:  Mike McBrien wringing out his socks on the dock after the race!

The race was a bit messy, but the joy of speed and the intensity of being on the edge of control was absolutely thrilling.  We started with a reefed main and the little jib, which was a good configuration upwind, everything on the boat was as tight as possible to remove power — shrouds, backstay, halyards, outhaul, cunningham.  Even so, a big gust rounded us up just as we were approaching the start line.  Good thing we weren’t closer to the committee boat!  From there, boat speed was excellent, but every gust threatened to round us up into irons.  Gadget was in the zone tonight, instinctively anticipating each gust and depowering the mainsail in perfect rhythm with each gust, and powering up again with each lull.  I wish I had the film — picture easing and hauling constantly on each upwind leg.  He’ll sleep well tonight!

The rest of our fleet flew big jibs and most didn’t reef their mainsail, so it wasn’t much of a contest.  Just a joy ride for speed.  Even so, we were hunting them by the leeward mark — no one had their spinnakers up, and we shook out the reef in our mainsail.  On the second upwind leg, we were even faster but chose a slower side of the course, and just missed the layline for the mark, causing two extra tacks in shifting air that slackened just when we needed something more.

The last leg was a run, and we saw some spinnakers flying.  Kiwi got us ready, but then we saw some impressive gusts wreaking havoc, and left our kite in the bag.

After the finish line we powered up on a reach and hit 8.63 knots, burying the rail deep in the surf!

And that just about sums up this thrill ride!

Tonight was the windiest race of the season so far, so we opted for the #3 jib (100%) rather than the newly repaired genoa.  In hindsight, we could have carried the bigger sail and competed well with the rest of the fleet, but with the lighter artillery, we just couldn’t keep pace on the upwind legs.  Downwind we were fast, and made up a lot of distance, flying our big blue spinnaker in plenty of breeze.

It was a great night for working on our maneuvers.  We’ve got most of it down, but there were a few good lessons in there, that are captured in the highlight reel so we can all learn from them. And there are some fantastic moments to celebrate as well.  Check it out!

Our start was unexpectedly tight, as most of the fleet went for the pin end of the line, where the wind was stronger.  As a result, we ended up in a sandwich, almost (but not quite) able to push Eclipse over the line, and forced up a bit after the start as Sabotage climbed up over our bow.  We tacked away as soon as we could, to get some clear air and start sailing as quickly and as high as we could.  But with all the big boats flying their big jibs, we fell the back of the queue by the time we rounded the windward mark.  It was nice to see Battlewagon put in a great start and be amongst the first to round.

Our hoist was great, and we accelerated quickly, but somehow the guy became uncleated and the pole went forward to the forestay.  That was lesson #1.  A great stretch of tweaking our point of sail, the pole position and managing gusts, and then it was time to jibe.  Couple of lessons in there as the guy popped out of the pole, and then went all the way forward again.  But we’ve got it now:  cleat the guy, and when something goes wrong — ease the sheet until the guy is in the right spot.

Another great stretch and we were bearing down on Black Magic, Eclipse and Battlewagon at the first leeward mark!

Our douse was pretty smooth, all things considered.  Probably should have started a little earlier, since there was quite a bit of traffic.  As a result, we didn’t have time to get the jib out until we were rounding.  But the beauty was that by now we were just a few boatlengths behind our fleet — I love the new spinnaker!

With plenty of traffic, and better wind over to Hamilton side of the bay, we tacked as soon as we were ready, and started slipping a bit further behind our fleet on the next upwind leg.  Four hands repacked the bag in no time, and we were riding the gusts once again.  Did I mention the gusts?  Skootch was a busy boy easing the traveller, hardening the traveller, easing the main, hardening the main.  He reacted to every gust to keep us as flat as we could be, but there were exciting moments of whether helm that brought water into the cockpit, and there was even a moment when I grabbed Skootches pants to keep him from falling further to leeward.  PERSPECTIVE was a bucking bronco!

The next hoist was great, but we learned another lesson (the foreguy — aka pole down — lesson), and nearly launched FourHands in the process — good thing he has froggy feet that suction onto the deck :-).  That was quickly fixed and we blasted by Christephanie at the start of a long run downwind.  We found a lot of speed and Lazy Sheet and Afterguy really developed the feel for adjusting the pole position and the sheet tension as we would alternately sail a bit higher (for speed) and lower (toward the mark).  Our next jibe was really smooth, and showed just how quickly we are all learning.  I think the pit position really does need a few more arms!

By the second leeward rounding, we had once again caught up with our cohort — we were within a boat length of Black Magic as we doused in traffic and powered up quickly in pursuit, but the little jib was no match for the others.  The last upwind leg was a lot of fun, though, as we had plenty of traffic to cross (shaving them all close), and the setting sun created a gorgeous watercolour canvas to welcome us across the finish line.

 

This was a drag race all-right!  Results are in and three boats crossed the finish line within 24 seconds of each other, after over an hour of intense focus.  Happily, we were the first of those, to clinch a third place finish on a beautiful, balmy summer evening with wry breeze that was mostly strong, except when it took a siesta.

But this was not just a night of a photo finish, it was a comeback story with all the high drama that Hollywood does so well.  Here’s how it went down (check out the link to the RaceQs replay to see the whole race animated, including second-by-second display of speed, VMG, and analysis of every tack and jibe):

Our start was solid, maybe second over the line, but in good clear air.  Once again, we couldn’t point as high as some of the others, and we found ourselves astern of Sandpiper, then saw Top Gun cross our bow, Remarkable out point us, Eclipse pull of their lee bow maneuver successfully (again, sigh!), and even Battlewagon made it around the windward mark ahead of us.  At this point we were dead last, but we weren’t far behind any of them.  Upwind, our top boat speed was 6.8 knots — we were all flying, with plenty of heel.

(About the pointing — I think it is time to shorten the forestay a wee bit to reduce forestay sag)

Spinnaker time, and our hoist needed a little extra time to sort out some lines that went afoul.  Top Gun, Sandpiper and Eclipse extended their lead while Remarkable took some time to get set, and Battlewagon struggled as we did.  Once we filled and jibed, we were just a boatlength astern of Battlewagon, and the wind began to subside.

Slowly, slowly, we crept toward the Burlington shore, sailing a higher course than our fleet with a bit more boat speed, but wandering off uncomfortably far from the competition.  Top Gun, Sandpiper and Eclipse began to grow small in the distance, and our only hope seemed to be to outpace Battlewagon.  But then the wind began to fill again, we jibed and were the first to catch it!  Within minutes we were cruising along over seven knots of boat speed, closing down on Sandpiper and Eclipse.  By the time we doused and rounded, we were only a handful of boatlengths behind them.  Our top downwind speed was 8.7 knots!

Our douse wasn’t particularly pretty or efficient, but we were ready to jibe at the mark and power up, and this move made all the difference!  Eclipse and Sandpiper rounded ahead of us, very near to each other and got caught up in each others wind shadows.  As a result, they were slow to power up, but we hardened up quickly on the new course and closed the gap to just a few boat lengths at the start of the upwind leg.  The drag race was on!

Sandpiper tacked away early, found clear air and a solid mode.  They looked unstoppable, so we turned our attention to Eclipse and Remarkable.  Top boat speed upwind was an impressive 7.4 knots, which helped us keep pace with the bigger faster boats, and we chose our  tactics wisely to finish the race on a starboard tack.  It all paid off as we crossed the line a few boat lengths ahead of Remarkable, who was followed closely by Eclipse.  Top Gun and Sandpiper were ahead of us.  Battlewagon was a distant sixth.

High fives all around! The feeling among us was the  welcome exhaustion after an extended period of focus that paid off.  It’s hard to describe, somewhere between satisfaction and contentment, between pride and gratitude.  There is a joy of knowing we are in the hunt, that the new gear performs better than expected.  Even though we have many things we can improve, we are already participating in tactical duels with other boats in the fleet, and this is adding another dimension to the experience.  On a warm summer evening in late spring, it felt like the beginning of something grand.