Deconstructing the Race
We corrected to 4th on last week’s race and 4-1/5 minutes behind the guy ahead of us. We coulda’ been a contender. It was an interesting race.
We were behind the crowd after rounding the first mark. We flew double headsails towards the second and reached that mark with the rest of the crowd. We were port; they were starboard. But we were ahead enough of the other boats I thought the mark distance rules applied and we went around first. One boat called me on it. I wasn’t sure I’d done right. So when we were the starboard boat, I ‘kindly’ got out of everyone’s way and lost time.
Ah well!
Then everyone headed towards the channel and we kept to the more shallow water. They lost wind and the tide was against them, too, so we caught up again. Then the wind changed. Winds were taking us across the river, then switched and we were moving more southerly. The other boats made the correction for the mark better than we did and made up their time.
But it was exciting!
Not only that, the temperature was perfect and, except for that mess at the end, the winds were great, too.
Moonlight Race
Each year, I try to stretch my sailing experiences a bit beyond what I did the year before. Last year, I decided to take on the Moonlight Race.
When I first started racing my boat, I tended to come in dead last. Part of it was inexperience, part of it was trying to avoid the other boats, afraid I’d get my damaged if I was too close. But that also meant that we were getting back to the docks after dark. So we learned to sail in the dark early on.
Besides, it’s never completely dark on the river. If there’s no stars or moon, there’s always the homes that line it, the Coleman bridge, and the power plant. Each, if not iluminating the area, does it make it possible to at least get our bearings. The only real obstacle to worry about are the shallows on both sides of river and the shallow areas at the mouth of the river. So, as long as my depth meter is working and visible, it should be no problem.
First Steps
The first step was to find the route and figure it out in the daytime. The route required us to start at R-22 on the York River, round York Spit Light, then back to R-22.
I’ve sailed near that area numerous times, when heading down to Hampton. But I couldn’t remember ever seeing that structure before. So I wanted to sail by it, both to get an idea of what the time would be, and to be able to identify it when I saw it.
Wendy and I headed out one morning, in search of the structure. I had 3 different sets of coordinates for it, so we only had a general idea of where it was. We headed out of the river, having the usual difficulty doing so.
The prevalent winds are such that the boat wants to go across the river, not up or down it. This we knew. That meant that one the hardest parts of the race would be getting out of the river itself. So this was one of the things that Wendy and I had to work on.
It was taking forever, as usual, to get out of the river. So we motored a bit to get out of the river, rather than waste our whole time in the river, rather than looking for the structure.
Once we got out of the river, we had mixed weather: no wind to too much. Well, not really too much. It wasn’t dangerous. But we did move quite quickly.
When we got close to where the light should be, we started looking for it. The spot was near the intersection of two different routes in the area. And, there was a third route nearby. Between them, there were a number of different markers with the same numbers on them. This threw us off. In addition, there were a number of different structures in the area, none of which looked like the picture we’d seen. Our time was growing short, so we headed back, having not found the structure.
First Moonlight Run
Our next practice session was a nighttime one. Dew, one of the more experienced sailors I know, and his girlfriend, Kelli, joined me, along with Wendy. We headed out about 1/2 an hour before sunset.
It was cold enough to be brisk, but not uncomfortable. And the wind was great.
With Dew’s help, we made it out of the river without motoring. In fact, the only problem we had heading out was getting too close to Tule Marsh, another shallow spot on the river.
I did learn, too, that iPads are not the best of navigation tools at night. Their light is too bright and leaves you partially blinded when you look away. Add to the fact that they are difficult to see in the middle of the day, too, and I don’t think that my iPad will become a navigation tool that I’ll rely on too much on my boat until I have one with a bimini to shade me.
We made it out to the York Spit light and I understood why Wendy and I had such a hard time finding it the first time. It had been destroyed in one of our storms and never rebuilt. So it was essentially just a platform with some sticks on it, not anything like the picture above.
On the way back, we had another problem: the house lights went out. I hadn’t charged the house batteries, and we had been running both lights and music the whole way. I didn’t worry about it, since I have two ‘house’ batteries. I use one at a time, so I assumed that the other was still charged. Nope. We switched over to it and it was dead as well.
Later, when I had charged them both, I found that one discharged as the other did. I still haven’t figured out whether the circuitry is bad or one of my batteries is dead. Another chore for this winter.
So, anyway, back to the story…
As I said, we had plenty of light surrounding us. We had picked a night near the full moon. Unfortunately, I hadn’t checked on the time of moonrise: the moon wasn’t rising until early, early morning, so we were sailing without the moon to guide us. But we had the GPS, we had the landmarks I mentioned, and we had a depth gauge that worked to keep us from bottoming out.
The only slight issue we had was the tug that couldn’t see us and didn’t answer our call on the radio (unlike Robert Redford in All is Lost, I do have a spare VHF radio in cases of emergency. Luckily we did stay out of his way and didn’t get run over.
We did make it home safely, quite late. And that was something else we were checking out – how long would it actually take us to make the run.
The Race Itself
Well, the race got cancelled. We got out there and there was only us, one other racer, and the committee boat. The rules require that there be at least 3 boats racing to make it official, so the race was cancelled.
Crew that night were Dew and Kelli. And the three of us decided that we wanted to do the race anyway.
The wind was strong. The waves we 4′-5′. It made for a rough ride heading out. And it ended up hurting Kelli’s back. She spent time in recovery afterwards. Luckily, the temperature was great and the company wonderful. Luckily, too, Dew was with us. I wouldn’t have made the run without him.
The waves were with us coming back, so we surfed home. And, as I said, the temperature was great. This time, I did made sure the house battery was charged so we were able to enjoy our music out and back.
Coming into the York River, we had the moon, we had the lights from the bridge and from the power plant. And the winds were calmer in the river. It made for one of those moments you want to savor forever.
Will we do it again? Heck, yes!
[Top]Deconstructing a Bad Race
Last Sunday was the first race of the Frostbite series. It lived up to its name. It was cold. It was wet. It was too windy. The only thing missing was high waves.
I showed up about an hour early, to clean up the boat a bit. With all the work I’d done this summer, I never really had the time to put things away. So I gathered up tools, and moved things around that were sitting on the galley counter. I knew it might be a bit rough and I wanted to minimize the mess in the cabin.
It started to rain pretty heavily before Paul and Grant arrived. But it was short lived. The sky didn’t clear up, but it wasn’t quite as black. So I had hope that the race would go well.
Paul and Grant are usually good about arriving a bit early. So when they hadn’t shown up by about 15 minutes before we planned on leaving, I thought they might have decided against coming, having seen the weather. But they arrived. We all put on our foul weather gear and headed out to the starting line.
I hadn’t finished tightening the bolts on the engine mounts. So I had Paul take the wheel while I went below and took care of that. I also wanted to take a look to make sure the engine looked good and that the stuffing box was performing well. A big OK on both fronts, so I headed back up.
I tend to be very cautious still. 3 years has not made me feel like any sort of expert yet. So when the weather gets rough, I’d rather not put out the full sails. I feel more in control that way.
But as we started out, the wind wasn’t too bad, although we could see the next band of rain headed our way. So we put the mainsail up all the way, and headed towards the starting line. The wind had picked up a bit by the time we reached our buoy, and we’d had our first band of rain hit us. I only have one jib, but it’s a roller furler. So we tied off the roller furler in such a way that only 1/2 the jib was released. We winched it in and got ready to start the race.
We were in a good position. I was psyched. We were, however, the least experienced one out there. And, as I already mentioned, I do tend to be a bit overly cautious. So we hung back a bit. I don’t mind being a couple minutes late over the start; I’m not going to come in first, so why risk ramming someone else going over the starting line.
Time was called. The race was to be around another buoy and back. We played follow the leader, to get a better idea where to make our turns.
First leg went smoothly and we were moving well. I wasn’t sure how well we’d be able to follow the leaders; we were a bit downriver from them and it would depend on how the current took us whether we’d get too close to the refinery’s docks. But no, we weren’t too close and we turned at the point that the others did.
Second leg, I could see a few white caps ahead, so I knew the wind was going to pick up. And it did. But it was very isolated and we came out of it fine. We put the jib out more to give us a bit more power and and made the next tack.
Third turn. Again the winds were picking up. This time a bit stronger. On top of that, I saw one of the other boats rounding out, so I knew they were having a few problems with the wind, too. Not only that, but a second boat was heeling over enough to wash windows.
I got a bit nervous. We’re out there for fun, not to make it dangerous. And I didn’t want to get in over my head. So I asked Paul to reef the main in. He went to do so. He was having trouble doing so, so Grant went to help him. At that point, I realized I should have steered into the wind to make it easier for him. But I couldn’t do it then; it would have been too dangerous. I was afraid that I’d lose one or both of them over the side.
We had a big gust at that point, and it pulled the boat over quite far, although briefly. At that point, I called Grant back to the cockpit to pull in the jib and I started the motor. There was too much wind; I didn’t feel comfortable and I wanted to head back.
We brought the jib in. Paul had to help Grant because the wind was quite strong at that point. I then turned the boat more into the wind and Paul brought down the main.
We tied everything down and headed back to the docks. We called the committee boat to let them know we were out of the race. As we headed back in, the wind died down again. In fact, it looked like the other boats were having a heck of a time making it around the buoy and back to the finish/start.
So what should I have done? I’ve been thinking about this for a week.
I still think I should have brought the main down, if only briefly, if I felt that I couldn’t control the boat in the given winds. But I should have turned into the wind before I sent Paul up there.
I should have insisted we all wear life preservers. If there was even a hint of a chance of someone ending up overboard, especially as the water is getting colder, I should have been prepared.
I should have looked head to see if this, like the other two rain bands that hit us, was going to come and go as well. We might have been able to in the race if I’d paused long enough, or let the sails down long enough, to let it pass, then continued as before. As I said, we weren’t going to win. But that way, we would have at least finished.
Well, there’s always next week!
[Top]Perfect Teamwork
One of the best ways to quickly improve yourself as a sailor is to race. You commit yourself to a schedule, you learn alot about your boat and how to make it move well. You learn to coordinate the movements of a number of different people to achieve your goal.
Readers of this blog have seen the trials and tribulations my crew and I have gone through when trying to learn those lessons. But today, they paid off. No, we still came in last (although I am anxious to see our corrected time). But we worked like clockwork today, which made for a very satisfying run.
We pulled the boat out of the docks and headed to the channel. Just as soon as we reached it, we had someone come beside us asking if they could pass us. We said of course, and moved starboard to let them pass. Well, of course we got stuck. Leave it to me to get stuck in that channel, close to high tide, with the tide being higher than usual. But we backed up, turned around, and we on our way.
It was cold out there today. Air temperature was in the upper 50’s. But the wind chill made it seem like it was in the 40’s. We had all dressed fairly warmly in anticipation. But we all donned windbreakers with a bit of padding to help.
We motored to the buoy this time. I didn’t want to have our usual problem of getting to what we thought was close, killing the engine, then not making it to the starting line on time. We then raised the mainsail, unfurled the jib, killed the engine and heading towards the starting line. I think the race was started early – I need to check my emails about that – but we stated within about 5 – 10 minutes of everyone else. For us, who usually start about 1/2 an hour late, that was fantastic.
The winds were perfect, putting us between a beam reach and a close haul the entire time. And even better, we were on mark by doing so. Usually, the winds are shifting and we’re having to turn back frequently, or tack frequently, to get to the mark itself. Today, each time, we headed almost straight between the marks.
We worked perfectly as a team. I kept on track, Paul and Grant, my crew, worked smoothly to get the sails moved. It was almost poetic.
We crossed the finish line about 20 – 25 minutes behind the last boat in the larger pack which, again, was good for us. We’ve come an hour behind or, in extreme circumstances, just given up after the first leg and cruised for a bit before going in.
I think today, the only thing I could have asked for was a bit warmer weather. Other than that, it was perfect!
[Top]And the Prevaling Wind is from What Direction?
The old jib is back. Repair looks good! Thank you Dan Winters!
Yesterday was the second race of the Frostbite series. I wasn’t expecting any crew to show up; it’s been difficult to get folks to commit to a weekend, since we really hadn’t planned on racing this series in the first place. But I headed over to the boat, figured I could get the jib up at least. If anyone showed up, I’d go ahead and race. Otherwise, I’d just head home to do the homework I was avoiding.
No one was there by 12:30, the time I needed to head out of the slip. But you know how it is. The wind, the waves, the boat all tugged me out. So I headed out of the channel, set the sails, and aimed towards the starting buoy.
The wind was lousy. The breeze barely moved the sails. And then there was the barge that’s been on the river for a couple of weeks messing with the breezes, too. But I headed on down, knowing the winds would be better at the mouth of the river, near the bay.
After I passed the barge, the winds did pick up. I got a good 4 knots going. I still had about 20 minutes to reach the starting line, so I figured I was good.
I wasn’t. I was well away from the barge and the winds were still shifting. Mind you, I was near the refinery docks. But that shouldn’t have affected it that much. Since I had a good speed, and the current tack would have taken me into the docks, I tacked away from it. Now, though, rather than making a 90 degree turn to port, I made more like a 120 degree turn, taking me away from the mark. Knowing the current was going to be pulling me in almost the opposite direction, however, I stayed on that tack as long as possible, then turned again. Same thing. Got good speed going, then the wind shifted and I wasn’t heading towards the mark any more. Rather than keep fighting it, I just turned around and figured I’d play for awhile then head in.
The wind was nice, mind you. But I really had to pay attention. I couldn’t aim towards anything an be assured I’d keep moving in that direction. At one point, near the barge, of course, the wind shifted almost 180 degrees as I tried to set the sails.
I kinda wish I’d gone ahead and raced, though. The winds picked up, as they had the week before, about an hour into the race. It was probably some awesome sailing out there on the bay. <sigh!>
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