This summer has been full of gorgeous sailing evenings, and tonight was right up there with the best. With a nice full breeze that promised to clock around, the race committee set the most elaborate course I can recall. And it was a long race. Our elapsed time was nearly an hour and a half. And there were three very different spinnaker legs including a hot jibe at mark 1. Again.
Now, we all miss our regular Tuesday foredeck captain, who a few weeks ago buzzed around the boat like a chipmunk. But the bench on PERSPECTIVE is deep, and all this spinnaker work went off without a hitch thanks to the great work of Nonsuch with support from Afterguy. And this time (in lighter breeze, I have to admit), we nailed the jibe mark maneuver.
We had a great time and a great night, but this race belonged to our friends on Battlewagon, who had a great start, sailed the upwind legs perfectly, nailed their maneuvers and held off Top Gun to win the gun! Our upwind legs were more of a mixed bag — didn’t sail in the strongest breeze, had some trouble getting into mode — so there was a pretty big gap between those two boats and all the rest of us.
But the final leg was dramatic and great fun. We rounded the jibe mark just behind Remarkable and just ahead of Sandpiper. Up ahead, and slightly to windward, Pandora II had their giant spinnaker out, and some white sail boats also needed to be overtaken. We were to windward of Remarkable, who didn’t have their spinnaker up. We wanted separation from Pandora II so we could overtake without their wind shadow affecting us, but whenever we sailed slightly a slightly lower course, Sandpiper made gains on us from behind, and there was the risk of Remarkable pushing us up.
We gingerly threaded the needle, so that we weren’t too affected by Pandora II. At the line, Remarkable got us by 9 seconds, and we got Sandpiper by 13 seconds. That’s tight racing after nearly 90 minutes! (A difference of less than 0.2%) And after correction for handicaps, the finish order among the three of us was reversed: Sandpiper -> PERSPECTIVE -> Remarkable. I’ve never seen that happen before.
So, Four Hands, wherever you are, we hope you are enjoying sailing the Dalmatian Coast. Rest easy…we got this!
It’s not often that we are the boat that goes straight down the middle, but tonight we just found there was more wind, so we spent as much time as we could there and it paid off.
It was yet another perfect summer evening, with warm temperatures and a soft breeze. In fact, there was much more breeze than I expected based on the forecasts, and it was more steady than expected; it even resisted resisted dying down.
And with steady breeze in and around 10 knots it was a night for technical sailing. Small adjustments in trim made a big difference, as did decisions about when to tack and when to jibe. Technically, the crew was right on the money throughout the race, and tacks and jibes grew crisper with each repetition.
Despite a relatively long start line with very little bias, I managed to start us in a bunch of traffic at the boat end of the line. Old habits die hard, I guess. Once we all got flowing, we tacked away out of traffic, across Sandpiper’s bow. We enjoyed the breeze in the middle of the course, and tacked back once it got lighter. Clearly the boats near the Hamilton shore enjoyed a lift, as many crossed well ahead of us. But then it was our turn to get the lift, and things evened out pretty well. After another pair of tacks to the windward mark we were in the hunt. Rounding order was Sabotage, Top Gun, RdE, Legacy, Us, Battlewagon, Sandpiper.
Spinnaker up, and its decision time. Near RHYC, we were able to soak quite deep in good pressure, and then jibed back to the middle of the course while Battlewagon and Sandpiper chose to continue to that shore pursuing RdE. We liked the middle, and overtook Legacy, who sailed hotter angles to both shores.
At the leeward mark, we had the inside lane and were about a boat length ahead of RdE. Douse was perfect and we protected our line, but by the time we had powered up RdE had gone around the outside to overtake us and we were in their bad air. Tack back to the middle with a keen eye on the fleet. RdE didn’t cover. Good pressure in the middle. Another great tack before the layline, hoping for a lift to bring us home, but it didn’t come. We needed one last tack to finish and RdE crossed ahead of us.
A very satisfying race nonetheless, as Legacy crossed 30 seconds after us and then a gap before the others.
And all this time, a threatening sky on the lake never made it into the Bay. We tidied up and enjoyed our snack under balmy summer skies. Only on the drive home did I see evidence that it had indeed rained. We were charmed!
I don’t recall ever doing this before! Rather than dousing at the leeward mark, we jibed and held the spinnaker until (almost) the finish line. Way cool!
Here’s how it happened:
It had been a gorgeous sunny summer day with little humidity, the kind where the sun is hot and the breeze is light but still you can be comfortable. My favorite kind of summer day. Except that there was little wind. Just before leaving the dock we checked on the wind forecast, and had a chuckle: The light gradient wind was coming from the north, maybe even a bit northwest, BUT it was fighting a deflected version of the gradient wind that had gained speed along Lake Erie and was approaching us from the Southwest, AND a struggling sea breeze was trying to build from the East. In other words, if there was going to be any breeze at all, it would be hard to predict which of these would win.
So we went out to the start area searching for clues about what might happen.
The course was set for the prevailing light breeze at the time, from the NorthEast, which meant that the sea breeze was winning at the moment, but it had already backed, so it was probably dying out. As we watched the sharks start, the wind backed more and it looked like it would be a port-tack fetch to #9 at the golf course. But just a few minutes later, the direction was back at the NE. Were these oscillating conditions or was a persistent shift just struggling to get established? Our money was on the persistent shift, so we watched carefully as the sharks responded. They had already flopped onto port tack, and just took the knock. Then the wind backed again. Nearly all the boats stayed on the lifted port tack, but one of them tacked over to take the header. Interesting! They were placing a big bet that the shift was persistent and would continue to progress.
As we watched other fleets start, it became clear that a progressive persistent shift had begun. The shark in question made huge gains, and we made our own plan accordingly: Start on starboard near the pin end of the line, push toward the Burlington shore just beyond the rest of the fleet and the tack onto port and ride the lift up to the mark.
Execution was clockwork. Just about everyone else in the fleet went for the port tack start and had to duck us. Only Raison d’Etre had the same idea as us. They were ahead and to leeward. Once they tacked onto port behind us, we tacked also.
Although we weren’t fast (had the old mainsail up), it was a pure joy to watch the fleet spread out to leeward, and continue to get lifted. We all got lifted so much that the layline kept getting further away. But since we were able to nearly fetch the mark, we only had a couple of boat-lengths to sail on starboard. The other boats’ reaction were a perfect illustration of the lesson we studied this winter: Sandpiper realized the situation early and tacked back to our line early — as a result, they didn’t lose much and were a bit faster toward the mark than we were, so they rounded just behind us. Top Gun realized next, and took their lumps — as they tacked back to our line, they crossed well astern of us. Battlewagon stayed on the lifted tack, but had to sail a lot of extra distance to the layline before tacking.
We rounded the mark in second place just behind Raison d’Etre. By now the wind was from the North and we had a very hot spinnaker leg to mark #1.
Our first challenge was to overtake Raison d’Etre. It took a couple of tries, but we were eventually able to work our way to windward of them and overtake near aboard.
Meanwhile, Sandpiper sailed their spinnaker more deeply, below the rhumbline, and fell off the pace. But Top Gun and Battlewagon got into mode quickly and built a ton of speed. Shortly after we passed Raison d’Etre to windward, Top Gun shot by to leeward, and Battlewagon overtook RdE.
Quick reference to the true wind direction and predicted true wind angle for our next leg (thanks to trusty iRegatta), and it became clear that we could jibe at the next mark, rather than douse. Sure enough a couple of boats from earlier fleets had done just that. So, while Top Gun began to douse, we got ready to jibe — this was our chance!
It was definitely the right call, and indeed we did have a chance, but the jibe — from hot angle to hot angle — didn’t go smoothly and we had to sail deep (away from the rhumb line) for a while to sort it out. By the time we were flying, three things had happened: we’d lost time to Top Gun, we’d opened a windward lane for Battlewagon, and we now had to sail an even hotter angle to the finish line….too hot as it turned out.
We held the kite as hot as we could, for as long as we could, but it wasn’t quite enough. Battlewagon got by us, Top Gun staid ahead of them, and we needed a quick douse to cross the line on the jib.
(And that douse was a bit testy, as we forgot to blow the guy)
Bottom line is that we earned a third place result tonight, and made all the right decisions to have a shot at first. And all this with the old mainsail! The winter series is paying off! The more often we make the right decisions, the more often we’ll get the gun. Let’s do it again!
On behalf of PERSPECTIVE, six of us accepted the LO300 Challenge, to sail 304 nautical miles nonstop in close quarters and whatever elements nature chose to send our way. It was an unforgettable adventure full of highlights, great sailing, beautiful scenes, fun camaraderie, and even a couple of decent meals.
Here’s the course
One way to describe it: Six guys on a camping trip with a tent that sleeps two, a campfire just outside the tent that needs constant attention 24/7, and a tiny campsite just big enough for the tent & fire…leaving the campsite is not an option. Oh, and an outhouse inside the tent!
So hats off to the crew:
The M&M’s: Kiwi & Lazy Sheet
The Kit Kats: Starport & Rick Culver (aka surfer)
The Twizzlers: David & Gadget
And many thanks to the shore crew who helped get the boat ready: Bert, Calvin, Les & Rob.
Life on board
We organized ourselves into three watches of two people, and rotated through three levels of activity, switching every two hours:
On: actively sailing the boat, one person at the helm, one person trimming sails
Off: fully excused from any duty, time to sleep down below or rest on deck
Ready: on deck, life-jacket on, clipped in, ready to assist with sailing the boat, navigation, preparing food, cleaning up or otherwise resting.
This worked pretty well, but it meant only two hours of sleep at a time during the night. We didn’t wake people up, though if they were deeply asleep, and then shuffled things in the morning so that it roughly balanced out. When the wind was lighter (Monday), we had the chance to doze on our ready shift.
For food, we had a mix of grab and go meals that ranged from sandwiches to trail mix & beef jerky. These were about all we could manage when the wind and waves were up. But when things settled down, we did quite well with just a camp stove that could boil water: oatmeal, breakfast burritos (freeze-dried egg scramble in tortilla wraps), sous vide beef sandwiches, quinoa salad with beans, plus strawberries for desert. And yes, we had hot coffee!
For drinks, we had 70L of water on board, some of which was pre-frozen and thawed slowly to provide cold drinking water. Gatorade powder provided necessary electrolytes, so we stayed hydrated.
And we had a ready supply of handy snacks: lots of fruit, nuts, licorice, wine gums. These were critical to keeping the energy up and the brain sharp as we went along.
All in all, it was a pretty good setup, considering we had never done anything like this before. I’m sure we’ll fine tune things for the future.
Here’s a tracker that shows our progress on the course and the position of other boats: Click Here (Choose Main Duck 2019)
Leg One: Here we go!
From: Start
To: Humber Mark
Bearing: SW
Distance: 2.2nm
Distance sailed: 3nm
Average speed: 6.8 kts
Rounding: Saturday 1230pm
Time Elapsed: 45 minutes
There was a lot of wind at the start, and we were surrounded by magnificent sailing machines. A Farr 40 with hydraulic hand pumps, and a Volvo Ocean 60 that looked like it was from outer space. These were part of an IRC fleet that were not really competing with us in the PHRF fleets. In our fleet there were still some boats that positively dwarfed PERSPECTIVE. On Burlington Bay, we are among the big boats at the fast end of the spectrum. Out here, we were average sized, and the runt of our particular starting group, which comprised the biggest PHRF boats mostly 36+ feet long.
With 19 knots showing on the wind meter, we opted for our new #3. As David and Gil began to set the sail, they quickly discovered that it had been packed into the bag in a strange way by the sail loft. It took some time, but we were finally set and approached the starting area for our sequence. Game on!
Rob Irish’s brother Leon (Razorbill) snapped this photo of us, suited up and ready to go.
The line wasn’t square to the wind, so we had to approach on port tack while the entire fleet of big boys were running the line on Starboard. Kiwi took us in really tight to Red Leaf (A J120) before tacking. I was at the bow and could have touched the other boat!
Off we went, upwind into big wind and medium waves. Not our most favorable conditions, but we kept our speed up in the high sixes and held our own while the even bigger ships from the IRC fleet overtook us. At the rounding mark, we had our spinnaker ready to fly, but opted not to hoist right away. With a leg of 130 nm ahead of us, taking 20 seconds to double-check our course, heading and wind direction seemed a worthwhile investment.
Leg Two: Rhumb Punch!
From: Humber mark
To: Ford Shoal Buoy (Oswego NY)
Bearing: 91 degrees (nearly due east)
Distance: 130nm
Distance Sailed: 135nm
Rounding: Sunday 1030am
Time elapsed: 20 hours
Max speed: 12.8 kts
Average speed: 6.5 kts
Yes, you read that correctly. It only took us 20 hours to sail nearly the entire length of Lake Ontario. A leg this long has many chapters to it. Here’s a summary of each…
2a. Settling in for speed
We opted not to hoist. The wind was strong and just aft of the beam. We doubted we could hold the rhumb line with the spinnaker up. Sure enough, boats ahead that did hoist had to sail a much lower line, away from the rhumb line and they weren’t making as much VMC (course made good) as we were, even with the #3 up. So instead, we opted for a sail change and put up our #1. The sail change went smoothly, but flaking the #3 on the foredeck was problematic since it has huge vertical battens.
Once we had the #1 up we enjoyed rhumb line sailing with boat speed in the high sevens, sometimes catching a plane and getting over 8 knots of boat speed. This was great sailing with easy control and tons of speed. Lunch time (fresh sandwiches), and time to take care of a few important details (like Lazy Sheet’s toe)
During this stretch we enjoyed overtaking several boats, including Entourage, pictured below. We saw a lot of Entourage during this leg of the journey, and they ended up rounding the next mark just behind us.
2b. Squall
But that joy of simple sailing was not fated to last forever. As the afternoon stretched toward evening we saw Toronto disappear to the North of us as dark clouds rolled in. The front edge of these clouds looked particularly ominous as a horizontal roll reached toward us threatening thunder, lightening and massive gusts.
We got ourselves ready by removing clutter from underfoot, talking through how to furl the jib and reef the main. Wind speed built. Prepare to reef the main. More wind. Cancel that. Furl the jib. Done. Too tight. Four feet of sail flapping madly. I went forward to bundle up the extra sail cloth. More wind. Heeling hard. Mainsail full. Knocking us down. REEF THE MAIN!!!!!
Quickly done and we were under control. And just as soon as the squall arrived, it passed taking most of the wind’s energy with it. This was around 5pm, and we were due south of Oshawa. We didn’t know it yet (indeed until we were finished the race), but Flight Simulator, a massive trimaran capsized in this squall. They were well ahead of us (due south of Port Hope?) when it happened. They were eventually rescued by the US coast guard. Glad we didn’t know all this when we were out there. All we knew was that the angry sky had been replaced with this lovely vista.
2c. Growing confidence and growing wind
As the storm gradually cleared, the wind slowly came back, in fits and starts at first (and from a range of angles). One by one the boats within sight raised their spinnakers and we did too. Downwind sailing had begun.
And then as the sun set and the moon rose we were making good progress once again, right on the rhumb line heading toward our mark.
Sailing in the dark is a particular joy, especially with a full moon and mostly clear sky. There is enough light to see on board, and other boats’ navigation lights are clearly visible. We vied for position with a few others as the night set in, choosing between a deep sailing mode along the rhumb line and the option of hotter angles. For the most part, we tried to stay close to the rhumb line.
2d. Planing in the dark (southern ocean)
Okay, we weren’t in the southern ocean, but this is the closest we have ever been to those champagne sailing conditions that we’ve all seen on TV. Big waves behind, big wind pushing us forward, high boat speeds and a very attentive focus on the helm.
We were sailing a deep angle with the spinnaker up, nearly dead down wind, and the waves would push our bow closer to the wind and then away from the wind. As the helmsmen started to get the feel of the waves, we were able to surf down more and more of them and hold it for longer. Our boat speeds rose into the nines as we surged along. To avoid a chinese jibe, we had a preventer stay on the mainsail. I now swear by these as we had two testy occasions when the wind got behind the main. Without the preventer stay we may have been in significant trouble, but the boom was restrained, steering control maintained and the jibe was averted.
The second time this happened, I called for a douse and we sailed wing on wing downwind. A dose of caution that may have cost us a few knots of boat speed — we were now only going about 8 knots (ie: still planing!) — but in the dark of night in the middle of the lake, this seemed the prudent move.
Once the predawn light came on, and after coffee and oatmeal for breakfast, we hoisted again and went for broke. For about an hour we enjoyed ever increasing wind speeds, more time planing with each wave, and in a 22 knot gust, we set A NEW SPEED RECORD FOR PERSPECTIVE: 12.8 KNOTS!!!
This was a truly exhilarating experience!
2d. Rounding in good company
After twenty hours on this particular leg of the journey it was amazing to see boats converging at the turning mark from every direction. As we drew closer, we could make out the names and types of the nearest boats and found ourselves rounding just a few boat lengths behind Live Wire, a J109 in our own fleet, with the same handicap we have. Amazing! This filled us with the sense that we had been sailing well, and holding our own through the squall, the night, and the fast conditions. Fantastic.
And would you believe it, we arrived simultaneously with another boat and had to give them mark room — just like what happens on the bay after 20 minutes (vs 20 hours!).
Leg Three: Bootlegger’s dash
From: Ford shoal buoy
To: Main Duck Island
Bearing: 004 degrees (nearly due north)
Distance: 30nm
Rounding: Sunday 2:30pm
Time elapsed: 4 hours
Max speed: 8.2 kts
Average speed: 7.5 kts
Back in the days of the US Prohibition, Main Duck Island was a favorite stopover for bootleggers. As we dashed north, I’m sure we were faster than our intrepid forebears or the coast guard ships that hunted them down.
We had 13 knots of wind on the beam, the #2 headsail up, and near planing speeds most of the time. This was easy sailing, but not so easy on the crew, since the waves were also on our beam and had grown to about 2 feet by this time.
Nonetheless, it was a welcome simplicity. Navigation was straightforward as we took our spot in a drag race north. The sail trim rarely needed adjustment and the bright midday sky shone its approval on our adventure.
2/3 of the way into this leg, we passed the halfway point in our journey — 150 nautical miles sailed in approximately 24 hours!
(somehow, none of us believed the second half would pass by quite so quickly)
Rounding the islands themselves was fun. Once again we were in good company, with Live Wire & Tenacious (a Beneteau 36.7 just like Sandpiper) just ahead and Tonic (another boat like Sandpiper) just astern. More affirmation that we were holding our own out there.
There were a pair of shoals to avoid before we could commit to a long stretch on any one heading, but we handled that with just one tack. As we headed out into the open lake, we quickly realized that our next leg would begin with upwind sailing in big waves and strong wind.
Leg Four: Transformation
From: Main Duck Island
To: Niagara Mark
Bearing: 258 degrees (WSW)
Distance: 110nm
Distance sailed: 136nm
Rounding: Monday 11:00pm
Time elapsed: 33.5 hours
Average speed: 4 kts
Indeed, our next leg was the longest one. We sailed a similar distance as Leg Two, but it began upwind, and then the wind settled down, shifted, died, a sea breeze grew, then died, and a new wind began. It was a day of transformation.
4a. 8 hours of pounding
This marathon leg began with pounding surf. 13 kts of steady strong breeze blowing from the WSW across 100 nm of fetch created waves about a meter high. We got ourselves dialed into a good mode, and focused on earning as much VMC as we could while crossing the lake.
The deck was strongly heeled, and the boat rose over the waves, crashing into the next one. For eight hours we could barely walk on board due to the motion. A hot meal was out of the question and we settled for trail mix, beef jerkey, apples, licorice and M&Ms. The only places to sit securely were on the rail on the high side (getting soaked by waves) and nestled on the floor of the cockpit
The power of the lake was relentless, but we had our plan — shift to the southern shore as quickly as we could. We had good reasons for this choice:
to get some reprieve from the waves in the lee of the NY shore
cross the lake while we still had wind (we expected the wind to die down overnight)
to catch a lift that we expected to materialize sometime in the next twelve hours as the forecast predicted a veer to the west.
be near the NY short to catch the new sea breeze as soon as it set up on Monday
So we soldiered on. Live Wire had the same plan as us, but they pulled away as their larger boat handled the waves better than PERSPECTIVE.
But I have no complaints about our craft. During the pounding, I went below to observe the hull as it endured wave after wave. Nothing flexed. Nothing groaned. The hull rose and fell as one rigid piece of composite, ready to keep taking it — and much more.
I reported this on deck, and the others responded….hmmm, you might even conclude the boat had been designed for this! Of course it had.
Out in the middle of the crossing, with no land in sight, the sunset was glorious over the starboard side, while at the same time the moonrise was equally stunning over the port side. That is a scene I will never forget.
4b. Dark & Shifty
The surf was indeed lighter near the NY shore, which allowed folks to find a quiet spot to sleep. The sky was clear and the full moon rose up high to light our way, as the lights of port towns twinkled on the horizon.
As the waves subsided, so did the wind, and it began to shift toward the west as expected. Unfortunately, this happened after we had crossed the lake, so that rather than benefiting from it, we now had to beat our way toward the Niagara mark. In hindsight, the timing of this shift favoured the boats who had stayed near the Canadian shore longer, as their crossing was lifted relative to ours. In the final analysis, this is probably the most decisive factor in the outcome of the race.
Nonetheless, we could only sail the wind we were in, and we did our best to make as much forward progress as possible in the slackening wind while still aiming to be near the shore to catch the new sea breeze when it would develop mid-morning.
At dawn we found ourselves further from shore than desired in a breeze that was quite light, and beginning to fail completely. We could see evidence of the sea breeze forming over the NY shore (see the tell-tale clouds in the next image), so we did our best to eke out as much speed in the right direction as we could.
Gadget relived his childhood joy of flying a kite while the rest of us hung out wet cloths and enjoyed breakfast burritos, the first proper food since breakfast the day before. It was darn good! And yes, we did let Gadget take a break to eat.
4c. Sea Breeze
Eventually the sea breeze made it to us, but before it did, the wind shut down completely. By this time the sun was hot and the flies had discovered us. With zero boat speed and nothing to lose, I declared a swimming break and we all refreshed in the lake, like pre-teen boys in our favorite swimming hole.
Lazy sheet brought out some shampoo and soap so we had a chance to clean up a bit and then the funniest thing happened. (Yes, it does involve someone dropping the bar of soap).
Super Dave (yes, that is his nickname now) is drying off on the cabin top. Lazy Sheet drops the soap. It begins to sink. Calculus flashes behind Super Dave’s eyes. He sizes things up. Leaps. Over the lifelines into a deep dive. Six feet down. Ten? One perfect arc back to the surface. Soap in hand. That’s our Super Dave!
Monday was a lovely day. The perfect antidote to the extremes we had enjoyed thus far: squall, surfing downwind, pounding upwind, shifts in the night. Now we had calm stable breeze in flat water and the comfort of a lee shore in sight but not too close.
And we had company. Tenacious came toward the shore with their spinnaker full, crossed our stern, doused and hauled up another flatter spinnaker. And thus began an interesting drag race that lasted about 12 hours. Each of us doing our utmost to outpace the other. First it was a boat trim duel, and then they chose to sail a hotter angle away from shore, while we stayed sailing deep along the shore. It took several hours to work out who had made the better choice
And all this while, another boat, Jersey Girl was following us closer to shore. At first, they were at least a nautical mile behind, but they closed that distance slowly throughout the afternoon and evening, proving that there was a bit of better wind in closer to shore.
4d New Wind
We held this course through the afternoon and evening, enjoying the scenery as upstate NY scrolled by. Lazy Sheet made brilliant beef sandwiches for lunch. Gadget made fantastic quinoa salad for dinner. We were clean, dry, comfortable, well fed, the boat was flat and we’d all found a chance for a nap. A perfectly civilized day.
Otto was at the helm most of the time (Otto von Helm, that is, our digital seventh crew member), so the only person working was the crew member trimming the spinnaker. After dinner, I made the brash statement that I’d handle our watch on my own so that Rick could get some rest.
That was enough to tempt fate.
Over the next fifteen minutes, the wind flipped 180 degrees as the sea breeze was overtaken by a new system that was drawing wind from the south into a growing mass of clouds in the North. Toronto had only just appeared on the horizon, but now it was snuffed out.
Wary from the squall on the first day, we doused quickly and kept the spinnaker down for a while, watching the weather all the while. Eventually, we grew convinced it would stay near the north shore of the lake, and we hoisted the spinnaker once again, on the opposite jibe this time.
The breeze was still moderate, maybe only 5 knots or so, but we held such a high angle with the spinnaker (60 degrees apparent wind) that our boat speed rose to 7 knots. Absolutely fantastic!
Meanwhile, Tenacious, who had sailed away from shore, had to douse their spinnaker and come back almost close hauled on their genoa. In the end, that helped them reach the Niagara mark a few minutes before us.
Night fell quickly with a dark sky, and we ghosted along at good speed in surreal conditions of flat water and light breeze. Stunning!
rbshrbsh
rbshrbsh
4e. Rounding
We held this all the way to the Niagara mark, and then were hit with an unwelcome surprise. We found the mark, aimed right for it, and within the last 100 metres the wind wobbled, shifted forward drastically, and threatened to push us into the mark itself (a big ugly rusty thing that would leave a very unwholesome scrape).T
The kite was completely backwinded. Down it came in a hurry. Two tacks on the mainsail alone until well clear (and the wind was restored from the south), and back up came the spinnaker.
(and meanwhile, Tenacious sailed away)
Add that to the collection of strange mark roundings this season!
Leg FIVE: A few more surprises
From: Niagara Mark
To: PCYC Finish
Bearing: 300 degrees (WNW)
Distance: 25nm
Finish: Tuesday 5:00am
Time Elapsed: 6 hours
Average speed: 4.2 kts
5a. Flying
Having established itself, the new wind did not kid around. In no time we were sailing with boat speeds in the high sevens on a bee line to the finish. Once I took the helm a short while after, I could see Tenacious’ stern lights, and we packed on all the speed we could to close down on them.
I began to calculate that at these speeds, we could finish in less than four hours. Indeed, when I went down for a sleep and handed the helm over to Super Dave, I even wondered if they would have to wake me for the finish. Oh, the silly thoughts we think sometimes.
5b. Thunderstorm
All I know is that I woke up to pouring rain and the thump thump thump of Super Dave on the foredeck. the kite came down as another storm hit us. Wary once again of squalls, and doubly cautious because it was the black of night, we were slow to bring out the headsail. Nothing lost though, because the wind had been eliminated in that last downpour.
Wet, cold and tired, we waited for some breeze with 9 miles to go. Eventually a light breeze filled from the NW, and we made cautious progress once again to the finish. We could now see boats all around us, who had been ahead and behind, essentially restarting the race for one final push.
5c. Classic PCYC Finish
What I had estimated to be the last hour of sailing took us three, and could have been more had not a reasonably firm breeze come from the NW. But as we approached the PCYC finish area, we all had flashbacks to the Susan Hood race, when we were becalmed in sight of the line.
It wasn’t that bad, but we saw our boat speed drop below 1 knot as we slowly approached the turning mark. For a while, it looked as though we may be able to overtake Tenacious who was going slow to leeward of us. But as we had to turn down to reach the turning mark, they were able to harden up, and they kept their place ahead of us.
In the inky moonlight that greeted us post-rainstorm, we saw Jersey Girl overtake Tenacious briefly, only to fall back again in the last few hundred metres.
Finally, it was our turn to cross the line, just as the predawn light was warming the sky.
We did it! We successfully completed the Lake Ontario 300 Challenge!
If Leaping Les & the Sleep Deprived were an ’80s era punk band, our own Four Hands would have torn down the house with his onstage antics tonight. With four on board and plenty of wind, putting in a good race on PERSPECTIVE can be a tough challenge in the best of times, but add to that the fact that Dave is on the steep part of the learning curve and Lazy Sheet and I had our heads full of moth balls after losing a lot of sleep on the LO300, and you can see what kind of gap Les had to fill. Squirrel got his nickname from running all over the boat to cover many positions. Following that tradition, Four Hands might be rechristened as Chipmunk!
The adventure started when we couldn’t start the engine, and chose to sail out of the dock on the #3 headsail. Easy Peasy!
The wind out on the course seemed pretty high, so we kept the number 3 up for a while, but it became clear that the fury was out of the wind, so we (I mean Les & Dave) changed to the #1 just in time for our prestart. Of course, as soon as that was done, the wind came back up to 13 knots or so. No time to change to #2, so we went with it.
Before the race, I had made a point that we were just out to have fun, and avoid a DNC, but once we got into start sequence that mission was chucked overboard and focus and decisiveness came from deep reserves of energy (and an afternoon nap!). As a result, we had a well-timed start near the middle of the line, Top Gun just to leeward and Battlewagon down at the pin end. Sandpiper got the boat end. Here we go!
But we weren’t pointing. In fact, the boat was performing like it did about two seasons ago, and we quickly fell off the line, conceding height to windward to the entire fleet. Les made some minor adjustments to the car position, Dave fine tuned the mainsail and we were back on track — it just goes to show how much we have learned as a crew, and how much we rely on individual experience in each position to eke out the most from the boat. Having fallen behind, we needed to try something different to win back some distance, and pushed in far to the Hamilton shore before approaching #3 on port. It worked, and we were back in it!
At the layline, we tacked just in front of Sandpiper, but then we got a knock and it became clear we would not fetch the mark. Two more tacks and we were around. And behind…again.
We were rigged for a jibe set, but the wind had backed further SW, so we sailed hot on jib alone while Four Hands got the pole lines ready under the jib. A jibe at the Hamilton Yacht club, and a clean hoist we now had a very deep spinnaker run down to the golf course.
It was like role reversal — usually we are the ones who sail hotter lines with the spinnaker while the J35s soak their way to the leeward mark. This time we were soaking while the rest of the fleet sailed extra distance. It worked out well for us, as we sawed off a lot of distance and earned the inside lane on Sandpiper. Just Top Gun and Battlewagon ahead.
Once nice thing about soaking is that it is easy to free-fly the spinnaker, so Les was able to get the pole down early and we could hold the kite up until the last possible moment. Four Hand jumped into his chipmunk hole with the spinnaker in tow like his superhero cape. Down it came like liquid, and we rounded the mark tight so that Sandpiper could get inside us.
Awesome, we are now in third place in a fleet of six, with Sandpiper right behind. Strategic decision: cover Sandpiper, let Battlewagon go, and hope that Remarkable doesn’t overtake when they split the course. Tack one: perfect, we are straight to windward of Sandpiper. They are sailing a bit faster and lower than us. They tack, and have to dip us. We tack to cover after crossing ahead: Oh no! The spinnaker halyard interferes with the jib sheet. We recover quickly but have lost a few precious boat lengths. Next crossing, they are ahead. We split the course and keep heading to Burlington, and they don’t tack to cover. This is our chance. We get a lift. Need one more tack to fetch the finish line. Remarkable has closed the distance. Tack three: crisp. We are fetching the pin end on Starboard. Will we force Remarkable and Sandpiper to dip us? Knock. We cross ahead of Remarkable, but behind Sandpiper and we will need another tack to finish, or at least to shoot the line. Sandpiper finishes, Remarkable tacks, we shoot the line.
We hear two horns in quick succession, about 3 seconds between them. Were we close enough to get Remarkable on PHRF?……..YES!
So we were one lift (or jammed spinnaker halyard) away from a third place finish, but managed to pull of a fourth. Not bad for Leaping Les & the Sleep Deprived. Thank goodness for the punk energy of our lead singer tonight 🙂
And afterwards we sailed the boat right into our slip under headsail alone. I guess, handling PERSPECTIVE has become so second nature that I can do it in my sleep ;-).
But that was the end of the line. All the energy in the reserve tank was spent. Lazy Sheet went home, and I had trouble putting together complete sentencezzz.
After a thunderstorm cleared through the area in the afternoon, a strong gusty breeze followed, and we delayed our decision about the headsail until the last reasonable moment. True wind settled down below 22 knots, and the course involved a short beat, and lots of reaches. We chose the #2 with the logic that we may be overpowered on the first beat, but we’ll need the horsepower on the reaching legs.
And with just five of us on board, we weren’t convinced we would fly the kite.
By the time we were in sequence, the burr had been rubbed off the wind and the #2 was exactly the right choice.
Our start was solid, well-timed, right at the committee boat. We had to scrub some speed off by blowing the genoa for a bit and by steering greedy zig zags. Top Gun was in our trap to windward, but we were early so we let them across. Timing and position were perfect, but we took a bit to find our groove and get our boat speed.
Remarkable had a great start to leeward and were able to cross our bow on port tack. The rest of the fleet sagged to leeward, but with our #2 we could almost fetch mark #5. Top Gun tacked across our bow. We held out longer and then tacked. We met again on the layline and put in a lee bow attempt. It was pretty good, not perfect, but we were able to keep Top Gun from rolling us. So, I’ll give that a solid “B” Sandpiper snuck in around the mark ahead of us.
We footed off as we rounded and snuck to leeward of Sandpiper, letting them scrap with Top Gun to windward. Half way to #1, they pulled a few boat lengths ahead, but we were holding off the rest of the fleet. At the second mark, the order was Sabotage, Remarkable, Top Gun, Sandpiper, Perspective with Raison D’Etre and Battlewagon astern.
A quick jibe at the mark, and we deliberatley selected a higher point of sail while David set the bag and pole. I still wasn’t sure we would hoist, but the theory was that we would sail above the rhumb line so that we could follow a lower course with the spinnaker up. Regardless, we caught up to Top Gun and were abreast of them to windward when we both hoisted.
18 knots of wind, with TWA of 138 degrees. It was hot!
With the pole low and the mainsail inverted we hopped up on a plane over 9.4 knots and just took off. Top Gun to leeward struggled with their spinnaker (probably getting some of our bad air).
A few big gusts caused us to round up, but we recovered quickly from these near broaches. At this point we were preparing to douse — maybe it was just too much. But we had one more trick up our sleeve. Rather than douse, we footed off, taking a lower angle. Now with the main sheeted in we took off once again….and our friends on Top Gun doused. This was a decisive moment in the race as we pulled well ahead of our rivals.
Gil smiled like a cheshire cat as he drew on all his childhood experience flying kites to keep us fast and under control.
Aside from Sabotage (shaking martinis in the Bahamas by now), only Remarkable lay ahead, and we realed them in quickly, as they had no spinnaker up. But how to overtake them? To windward was dangerous — they could simply push us up, cause a broach, triggering losses to Top Gun and the entire fleet. No good. So, I tried passing to leeward.
Sure, it looked like we might overtake, but then we got in their wind shadow and fell behind them again. It just wasn’t going to work. So, we opted to douse a bit early, make sure we were clear to tack, and then try to reel them in on the final fetch to the finish line.
Douse was clean, and we were abreast Remarkable (them with the precious inside lane). Everyone was tensed for the rounding. We gave Remarkable mark room early — this was not a night for sneaky tricks — and focused on a strategic rounding: wide, harden up to a fast reach, then close hauled at the mark. There were mere inches between our bow and their stern as we came around the mark….but they didn’t give us any chance to get to windward of them. We settled into a drag race right on their stern as the wind was big and the gusts were even bigger. Top Gun was dead astern, doing their level best to reel us in.
David trimmed the genoa perfectly on this close reach and Gil kept us trading gusts for speed. We couldn’t close on Remarkable (they got us by 14 seconds), but we kept Top Gun astern!
The mood on board was unbeatable…just like Forest Gump might say….”We beat Top Gun….again”
Pinch me, was I dreaming? I’m sure that this race came right from the pages of a fantasy of mine sometime during the cold dark months of winter.
With our fearless leader away, and light wind, no one expected anything unusual. A good start ahead of most of the fleet, heading towards Burlington. Once we tacked we were behind most of the fleet. We lost track of Top Gun, Sandpiper, and Raison d’Etre, but were focused on Battlewagon, as our closest rival in the Tuesday standings. As we headed to the windward mark, Four Hands quickly got the bag set, muttering to himself, “That was a really short upwind leg”. Then we rounded just behind Pandora II, with Battlewagon just ahead of them. A sharp and well-timed hoist let us pull ahead of Battlewagon, and we settled in and looked around for the rest of our fleet, who was nowhere to be found!?!?
We quickly realized that we had rounded mark 14, along with 1/2 the other boats, included most of the sharks. But our first mark was #7, much further down the bay. Kiwi called a quick douse, and we turned around, managing to stay ahead of Battlewagon. We gathered ourselves, and got back into the race, which for us was now a two boat race.
We sailed well upwind, and did another good hoist, directly from the hole this time, and were just ahead of Battlewagon. Sailing hotter angles let us put some distance between us down the bay, but in the lighter air by mark 3, they made up some ground. The wind died at the mark, and the douse was a bit messy. We managed to stay ahead just enough to finish mere seconds before our rivals. What lessons did we learn? Don’t always follow the sharks, no matter what the commodore says 😉
Bert, Alvin and I took the inshore route this time, and it paid! (Lazy Sheet had to pull out to get his eye looked at)
It was another gorgeous, hot steamy day with light wind and biting flies. Another day to focus on dialing in the boat speed and keeping the boat moving. We’ve had a lot of practice doing that lately. The wind began pretty much on our nose at the start, and forecasts suggested it would clock to the right, so nearly every boat in the earlier fleet went to the right to take the header early. We had this in mind, but we watched some boats try a port tack start…all it takes is one boat on starboard to make a mess of things. We decided we’d be that boat on Starboard. Besides, the boat end was favoured
Our start was really good today. Timed well, in clear air right at the committee boat. Perry-Eh took the pin end on port tack. Sure enough, they had to dip us, but it was a very calm crossing as the wind was only about 4 knots.
We got dialed in quickly on starboard tack, so we held off on tacking just to see what would happen to the wind ahead, which looked better than the wind over to the right. Sure enough, we gained speed and gained conviction about the inshore route. This was redoubled when we finally did tack, and couldn’t find the groove on port tack, so we tacked back to starboard again and headed toward Jordan Station with growing boat speed.
It was remarkable and so satisfying to be sailing at 5 knots of boat speed in just 3 knots of breeze. We were making our own wind!
And then we began to get a lift as the wind started clocking right. We took about half the lift and footed off for speed with the other half. A glance at the fleet and once again we had rolled a lot of boats who were up on the rhumb line. Out came some amazing sandwiches and fresh cherries for lunch.
It became clear that after another lift we’d be able to fly the kite so Bert & Alvin got things ready. Up went the spinnaker in a nice smooth hoist and we powered up on a hot line directly to our destination. By now we had over six knots of speed on a smooth sea. Even the flies were impressed, so they backed off!
As the wind continued to clock to the right we sailed deeper angles and chose to heat and burn our way back up to the rhumb line to consolidate our gains. Here is a picture of our fleet from our stern. Can you spot them?
This was about half way through the race, so the game plan became simple. Stay between the fleet and the finish and go as fast as we can. That sounds intense, but as the wind rotated further aft, it was really a matter of keeping the kite full and flying. Here’s what it looked like on board:
There is something just so gratifying about being in a really strong position early in a race and then enjoying the game of getting the most out of a steady stable wind.
But it was clear that the wind was not going to stay steady for long. The west end of the Lake began to disappear, and the distant sky rumbled its malcontent as harbingers of what was to come. The radio chirped with squall warning and then squall watch. Yes, we were watching! With the spinnaker up, we were poised for a quick douse to remove sail area as soon as possible. By this time we were about an hour from Bronte, and it became clear that the brunt of the storm was tracking along the Niagara side of the lake. Good for us, but not for the smaller boats in the fleet who were still back there. Here’s the western end of the lake at this time. The lift bridge had completely disappeared, and the distant thunder was approaching:
We scanned the water for squall lines and studied the clouds, ready for signs that it was time to douse. The first sign came as a wind shift and we jibed back on course for our destination. Then it hit.
The kite powered up with a will of its own. Bert grabbed the sheet and headed into the hole. As we eased guy and sheet the kite went higher, filled more strongly, pulled the boat around. We blew the lines and the kite came down. By now the wind was up to 20 knots, and the mainsail gave plenty of power. I sailed the boat (over 7.5 knots of speed) on main alone, while Bert and Alvin cleared lines.
Just as quickly as it hit us, it was gone and we pulled out the jib, readied the spinnaker bag and hoisted again.
And like all good summer storms, it bounced off something in its path and came right back at us!
Another wild and woolly douse, back to jib & main sailing, and we watched rain settle in over Oakville. By now we had only a mile to go, so we settled in for a white sail finish, even running wing-on-wing for a bit. Conditions would have allowed us to set the kite once more but we were weary and wary. Looking back at the fleet, everyone had made the same decision.
All told, we finished with line honours again, 12 minutes ahead of Perry-Eh, and a good half hour more on the next boat.
We turned at the line, aimed toward Burlington, away from the rain and watched the finish line completely disappear in the downpour. Although we got a bit of rain, it wasn’t much and soon the sun was shining, drying us up as we tidied up, motored through the bridge and to our slip at LaSalle.
A 14 nm fleet race in 6-8 knots of wind, with Trevor & Mark E from Sandpiper.
This was our favorite kind of lake racing. A solid and steady breeze with a modest swell (waves less than half a meter) that would have been a drag race except for the need to avoid the gun range.
Trevor & Mark E settled into the boat quickly and we spent some time before hoisting any sails making sure Trevor had the details clear for the foredeck. He’d raced with us once before (Peaches and PHRF last summer) and picked up our details in a snap. The wind looked like a white sail day, but twice in a row, having the kite ready made all the difference, so we made sure about that!
Our pre-start was funny as we set our five minute timer on the four minute warning. Simply because I wanted to stay near the committee boat in the start sequence, we heard a horn at “two minutes” that didn’t make sense. I gestured to the committee boat, who could see my confusion and they confirmed: “1 minute”. A quick jibe and we were back at the boat for a pretty good start just behind Perry-Eh and squeezing in beside Lindemere.
The two decisions to make were how high to sail (cracked off a bit because of the swell) and how far to persist on starboard (to avoid the gun range). We tacked earlier than our competitors but were still able to avoid the obstruction without sailing close hauled. Battlewagon began to approach from our windward quarter, but a slight adjustment in our car position and we were able to hold them off and pull away gradually.
The next decision was when to crack off and aim for the destination (we were about 20 degrees high by now). A slight lift gave us a hint that there might be a bigger lift coming. Some quick math and we knew that if we got a bit more of a lift we’d be able to hoist and sail a really hot spinnaker angle. The shift came, we turned down, hoisted and began to stream away. All around us, spinnakers went up, but we overtook Perry-Eh quickly and then pulled well away from the fleet. Our boat speed built to 7+ knots in barely that much wind, and the waves were less of a factor once we settled on a lower course.
After about a third of the race, we were leading everyone!
Lunch was awesome, and the conversation light as we focused on small details to keep ourselves moving fast on course.
After 2/3 of the race, the wind began to shift forward a bit and slacken. Holding our line got harder, and the boat speed suffered. We endured a few light patches and began looking over our shoulders more and more frequently. Eventually we got a 20 degree knock, doused the spinnaker, got back on course with the #1 and got our boat speed back into the 6+ range as the wind filled in. A quick look around and all the spinnakers were gone!
The last hour or so was creamy fast sailing on a most gorgeous summer day, as we secured line honours about 5 minutes ahead of Perry-Eh. Was it enough to beat them on handicap? I don’t think so, but we’ll find out soon!
Thanks Trevor & Mark E for a great sail, a memorable experience and a fantastic result!
A pursuit race in light wind, starting an hour and four minutes after the first boat of the day.
As Skootch, David, Lazy Sheet and me approached PCYC in our lyft, all the flags were hanging limp and we expected a drifter. But when we came out to the start line, the sea breeze had begun, blowing almost straight from our destination. We had a tough decision to make: go right and enjoy the promise of a stronger sea breeze along the shore (and avoid a potential hole in the middle of the lake), or go left to take the header early for a big lift in the persistent shift to the east as the sea breeze matures. It all depended on how well established the sea breeze was at our start time. Hard to answer when just half a nautical mile from shore.
To answer, we tracked our true wind speed and sailing angles closely, as we tentatively pushed away from shore. As soon as we saw our wind speed drop a bit, we tacked back to the shore route, but we knew we would need another tack to clear Clarkson pier, so we had to head out once more. Up until this point, Battlewagon had tacked to cover us, but now they let us go. Gingerly we tested the milky patches, scrutinizing the wind. The speed did not fall off as we went further into the lake. In fact, it built some more, and our confidence grew that there would be no hole in the middle of the lake, but instead a welcome shift.
With light wind and flat water, we didn’t sail close-hauled, but cracked off with 110 degree tacking angles so that we could get going as fast as possible.
We focused on boat speed and sail trim until we were the left-most boat we could see, and then tacked back (so as not to be greedy, or believe too much in our theory of the day). We struggled to get Performance and boat speed on Port tack, so we opted to tack back and push further left. We carried on until a bit of a knock began to appear and we estimated we would need a 20 degree lift on the opposite tack. VMC was 2.1 kts on starboard. After the tack, we focused on getting boat speed and eventually had VMC of 4.5 kts.
The lift began. It grew. Soon, we were cracking off and we began to see that only a handful of boats were ahead of us (Perry-Eh, Pandora II, Magic, and a couple of the larger white sail boats). We had about 10 nautical miles to go, and the wildcard was Battlewagon, who had taken the shore route. They were a long way away, (almost not visible in the binoculars), but had a good head of steam. Were we ahead? behind? this was going to be interesting!
The shift progressed, we overtook Magic and the white sail boats. Battlewagon approached. Big Yellow was behind them and coming on. In ultra slow motion, we watched Battlewagon reach our line about 400m ahead, and bear away to cover us. With about an hour to go, it seemed they had us!
But the shift progressed further, and we had our spinnaker ready on the bow. A quick reference to the true wind angle (106 degrees) and wind speed (about 6 knots), and up went the kite. It was an almost simultaneous move by us, Pandora & Magic. Battlewagon scrambled to set their spinnaker, and in that interval we had overtaken them and stretched away.
What a fantastic way to close off a wonderful day of sailing on the lake. First place went to Perry-Eh, Second to PERSPECTIVE, and Third to Battlewagon.
