Lackey’s Race
By Tomasz Dvorak
The summer southwest, finally here (although about a month late), blew steadily onto the club porch. Today there would be no question of whether a race would happen, and discussion centered on what combination of marks would give us the best course. The race committee offered PsBsPs. No, that’s not a whispered plea for attention, it’s a course. Out to mid-Lackey’s Bay, all the way back down near the tip of Mink Point, and back up, then home. With the current in Vineyard Sound running steadily to the southwest, we’d be out and back in good time.
At the start, a scrum. Luciole, once again a few seconds late, missed the chaos unfolding at the line. Boats jockeyed for position, heading up or footing off at the whim of skippers who knew for sure that just a few boatlengths to windward was the wind that would win them the race. Without incident, however, the fleet pulled around Can 9 and was presented with the first Decision of the race.
The current streamed steadily north-west at four knots. The question was if we should foot off and trust the tide to carry us past the respecting mark, or if pointing high would be rewarded with clear air and the opportunity to foot off as needed should the wind get gusty and variable under Nonamesset. The fleet, as usual when presented with a Decision, tried everything. Ragwagon pointed up high and looked good. Skimmer, having gone low and now in the fleet’s bad air, slid backwards and started losing positions. This first long tack across the Hole into Vineyard Sound tends to elongate the fleet. Sailing-skill, minute differences in rig and sail trim, and different philosophies on how to navigate the swirling tide mean that neck-and-neck racing doesn’t last long after the start.
Up ahead was Ragwagon, Luna Nova, Rumblefish, with Luciole in hot pursuit. Another group of Skimmer, Jilt, Blue Bayou, and Ghost eyed the leaders enviously – this is about the time in the race when our fantasies of first place vanish just like the transoms of the boats-ahead. Still though, there were plenty of options to pick up a few boatlengths or even a position or two, and we try to make the most of them.
The conventional wisdom endorses a long-tack deep into Vineyard Sound for a race like this. Out there, the favorable current should lift the boat into the wind, increasing boat-speed and letting us work to weather quicker. Then, tack, ride the lift all the way to the mark, and speed past any boat foolish enough to tack in along the rock-strewn, windless, and unfavored shore. When do we tack to make the mark, you ask? Well, don’t worry; we’ll get there.
The leaders all went out. Luna Nova and Rumblefish footed off. Ragwagon stayed high. Luciole, well-trained crew keeping a lookout, had an opportunity to try exciting sail controls like the traveler and jib downhaul, and after a few minutes found a perfect slot. Jilt and a few others decided to try something different on the off-chance the conventional wisdom was wrong, and tacked in along the coast.
Sometimes, inexplicably, the stars and the tides and the wind align and you find yourself faster than the rest of the fleet. The best you can do, if you can’t find out why you’re so fast, is just to keep sailing fast and hope the leg you’re on right now never ends (if you can figure out why you’re so fast, try to remember it for later and do it again). Luciole fiddled with the traveler again and started outpointing the fleet, gaining on Luna Nova and Rumblefish.
Now comes the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Up ahead, Ragwagon tacked, then Rumblefish, then Luna Nova. Somewhere up ahead was mark P, still invisible in the sunbeams dancing on the waves in Lackey’s Bay. Luciole, having caught up with Luna Nova, forced her to tack back out. Luna Nova, tired of Luciole’s indecision about whether she’d fetch the mark, tacked underneath Luciole. Luciole tacked to cover, mis-laid the traveler, and let Luna Nova squirt ahead (oh well, at least that rope does do something useful…).
One advantage the boats that went in held over the rest of the fleet: they could see the mark long before the leaders, still enjoying that lee bow, caught a glimpse of the mark as a bobbing dark spot against the shining sea ahead. As each boat sighted the mark, an inner sigh: we overstood. The leaders in turn now bore away, ceding boatlengths and moral advantage to the boats that went in – maybe staying in wasn’t as fast - but knowing where you’re going does have a certain advantage in when racing a course.
At the mark, the fleet began the parade. The leaders kept in close to shore, trying to evade the foul current. Further back, another cloud of sails arrived, with Blue Bayou leading that pack and nipping at Luciole’s heels all the way back down to mark D.
The rest of the race, while not total paralysis of place, would see only a few minor position changes. Skimmer swung in on the second upwind and picked up a few boats, then chased Luciole all the way from P, back along the coast of Nonamesset, across the Hole, gaining all the way until at Can 9 it looked like Skimmer would pull above Luciole, blanket her, and earn fourth place (the last thing you want to see, as a skipper, is a boat inexorably gaining on you no matter what you try…).
Unfortunately, Skimmer’s skipper and crew, rusty and seeming to be unaccountably unfamiliar with the harbor, mistook the Clark mooring for the finish. By the time Skimmer rectified her error Luciole had gained just enough and it was too late. The rest of the fleet sauntered in, with poor Jilt thrown out for daring to cross the A-A1-B line without unwinding or doing a penalty circle. Never mind the finish anyways – it was a beautiful evening for a sail, and we can’t expect to win every race this summer…although perhaps Rumblefish can.
Results:
1. Rumblefish (Nick Lowell) 0:00
2. Ragwagon (Peter Ochs) 1:05
3. Luna Nova (Fran Elder) 2:31
4. Luciole (Tomasz Dvorak) 4:17
5. Skimmer (Ava Warner) 4:27
6. Blue Bayou (Jeff Corwin) 5:37
7. Ghost (Tom Lanagan) 6:03
8. Who’s There (George Sykes) 9:33
9. Jilt (Chuck Verbeck) DNF/DSQ