Shortened Course
By Tomasz Dvorak
A dying northerly brought out eight boats for our second race of the season. We looked like we might be restricted to having a harbor race, for want of wind. Whilst rigging, the wind shut off entirely, then came back in from the south-east in fits and starts. The fleet rejoiced – we wouldn’t be drifting. The race committee decided that we’d head over to the south side of Nonamesset, for a classic course of ADA.
With the current slack at the start and the wind veering into the southwest, the question was one of speed - whether to start at the boat end of the line and reach for Can 9, or start at the pin end and have a shorter distance to the can. Rumblefish timed the start perfectly, hit the line, and pointed up for the can. Luciole, lagging a few seconds behind, edged up and smirked, having gotten precisely the start she wanted – a clear run to Can 9, slightly behind and above Rumblefish, from the vicinity of the pin, which she’d calculated would be shorter and therefore faster.
That calculation had missed an important variable: the rest of the fleet. Zipping (as much as one can in six knots of wind) down from further up the line came Blue Bayou, Skimmer, Luna Nova, Jilt, and Escargot. Squashed by a succession of boats to windward eating their air, Luciole and Who’s There wallowed, quietly cursing, as boat after boat passed. Perhaps that start could have been a little more precise after all…
Rounding 9 and heading out into the Sound, the fleet stretched out. Rumblefish and Skimmer footed off towards Juniper, trusting the building ebb to carry them up past the Gaslight. In the middle, Escargot, Jilt, Luna Nova and Blue Bayou jockeyed for position. Staring at the fleet’s transoms, Who’s There and Luciole finally felt a breeze – and what a breeze it was! With patience, luck, and perhaps even a bit of (don’t jinx it) skill, Luciole managed to outpoint the fleet and began picking up boats. First Blue Bayou, then Jilt and Luna Nova, then Escargot went from up-ahead to back-behind, and Luciole went from second-to-last near Parker Flats to third by the time the leaders rounded Mink Point.
A brief word about racing in Woods Hole: because of the strong currents here, there is usually One Right Way to sail the course, and any substantial deviation from that path results in, well, losing the race. This gives a theoretical advantage to the boats behind the leaders; they can observe how the decisions taken by the sailors ahead work out and adjust their own tactics accordingly. Years – and in some cases decades – of experience of local currents is usually necessary for the leader, lacking the examples of boats-ahead to follow, to make the right decision. Making the wrong decision, of course, means that soon you’re no longer in the lead, and have the luxury of watching the boats-ahead again.
Rounding Mink Point, boats were faced with a Decision. Was it better to tack in along the shore, trading a little less wind for – hopefully – less foul tide? Or would heading out into the Sound and then taking a long tack back into the mark pay off with steadier breeze? Well – I don’t know, so let’s flip a coin: heads we stay out, tails we tack in…
Our augurs of the tides, the lobster-buoys, showed zilch, so it was with little confidence that Rumblefish, Skimmer, and the still-gaining Luciole ventured into the Sound. Several tacks and a mark-rounding later, and it turned out that (frustratingly for those of us who try and learn from our experiences), today it hadn’t really mattered where you went. Throughout the fleet, results were inconsistent. Going inshore felt slow, but Escargot’s long tack outside allowed Luna Nova, who stayed in, to slip ahead. Conversely, Jilt, Blue Bayou, and Who’s There, still battling for position, found that they lost going in, but made up going out. For those of us with an analytical bent, it’s better not to search for any sense in this – just sail fast and hope that whoever’s in front knows what they’re doing.
Upon rounding the mark and trimming for the downwind leg to mark D, each boat felt the wind begin to die again. Aimlessly rolling, sails shivering with every passing ferry-wake and Vineyard Sound swell, the fleet shambled onwards, carried by current more than anything. A few boats cracked beers open: not sailing in no wind is thirsty work.
After hurried entreaties to the race committee, they took their magic eraser to the course: Now, finish at the downwind mark. A ghost of the returning southwest wafted the fleet across the line and then set us gliding slowly, smoothly, and surely home.
Although our competitive spirits subsided after the finish, the inner desire for boat-speed remained (heightened, perhaps, because we were late for dinner). After the finish, Skimmer and Rumblefish, the boats-ahead, determined to stay low crossing the Hole, found a hole in the wind, and came to a complete halt by Parker Flats.. The rest of the fleet, watching enviously from behind, took notes along the lines of “Don’t go over there, that looks very slow.”
Thus instructed by our betters, we stayed high, beat the race leaders back to the moorings, and hurried to hors d’oeuvres, second race over.
Results:
1. Rumblefish (Nick Lowell) 0:00
2. Skimmer (Fred Denton) 1:15
3. Luciole (Tomasz Dvorak) 3:37
4. Luna Nova (Fran Elder) 5:07
5. Escargot (Brett Longworth) 8:44
6. Jilt (Chuck Verbeck) 9:27
7. Blue Bayou (Jeff Corwin) 21:26
8. Who’s There? (George Sykes) 24:22