Survival Race
By Tomasz Dvorak
Traditionally we divide the race before Nationals into a spinnaker and non-spinnaker fleet. Those of us with a competitive spirit (and the foresight to rig the boat for a chute) get a chance to practice with the big-bellied spinnakers before playing with the big kids over Nationals weekend. Those of us without those virtues, well, we do the best we can to enjoy the race anyways.
Rumblefish, Luciole, Blue Bayou, and the race committee conferred on the porch. Today, with only three boats due to rain and a strong gusty east-south-east, nobody thought a spinnaker would be a good idea. EJEJE, the course, was in fact not an onomatopoetic rendering of a sneeze, but a race entailing a long upwind under the lee of Juniper and Nobska points, two upwind/downwind legs, and then a long downwind leg back to the finish.
Luciole, late to the start sequence after demonstrating what I'll term the "housefloat technique" for recovering a skied halyard, charged down the line on starboard. Rumblefish, early, luffed and lurked around the pin end, waiting for the start to sheet in and point up. Blue Bayou ducked both other boats and started on port, and the (reduced) fleet began working up to Juniper, contending with gusts, puffs, and the passing Steamship's wind-shadow and wake.
By the time we reached Little Harbor, conditions had given way from breezy-but-fun in Great Harbor to full-on white-knuckle try-not-to-swamp-the-boat sailing. The east-southeast, no longer blocked by Juniper, fought against the building east tide, setting up monster standing waves. After the race, skippers agreed that right around then we went from "racing to win" to "trying to make it around the course without capsizing". Around the Juniper nun, boats immediately tacked in to try and get away from the whitecaps in the Sound. On Rumblefish, an escaped halyard swung erratically. Aboard Luciole, a particularly intense lee-lurch sent the cooler flying, spilling precious cargo into the bilge (only expeditious measures by the crew limited the damage to what we could drink). Blue Bayou's turnbuckles began buckling.
The three boats really had only one option: staying under what little lee Nobska provided. Trying to head into the sound might mean more wind and fair current, but it also meant trying to shoulder through seas that would make the boat shudder. Rumblefish led at E, followed at a distance by Luciole and Blue Bayou. Rounding down for the downwind leg, we should have recuperated and gotten ready for another pounding upwind, but found that the direct line to J meant sailing by-the-lee. Sometimes being a bit by the lee downwind is a tactical decision to retain advantageous positioning or the right of way. Not today; we all sailed down a bit to catch our breath, then got the courage to try a very slow, very careful jibe long before the mark. The downwinds, usually straight shots from the upwind to the downwind, today resembled doodles and doglegs as each boat decided that going fast was less important than staying in control.
Blue Bayou's strained turnbuckles finally parted around halfway through the first downwind. One second the crew and skipper were watching the waves and the mark, rigging singing as the boat sped downwind. The next, the mast came down, and the race committee sprang into action. All thoughts of "racing" were abandoned by Luciole and Rumblefish, who proceeded to sail the remaining course slowly, perhaps a hair lazily, and above all cautiously (no trying for that just-half-a-knot extra).
On the final run back to the finish, Luciole mis-under-estimated the angle to the Juniper nun. A simple, quick jibe would have been all that was needed, but a jibe would have been anything but simple and quick. Instead, Luciole's skipper opted for a pair of chicken-jibes, buried the bow, backed the jib, and came around Juniper surfing the standing waves (and the adrenaline rush of sudden unexpected maneuvers).
Results:
1. Rumblefish (Nick Lowell) 0:00
2. Luciole (Tomasz Dvorak) 4:50
3. Blue Bayou (Jeff Corwin) DNF
Note: This was not a series race due to Nationals the following weekend, and instead was the Charlie Hokanson Bowl, a memorial race. The winner of the race gets a nice plate, but the second-place finisher wins a beautiful silver trophy, perfect for displaying on the mantelpiece; Charlie won plenty of races, but got second in even more.