I was taught a long time ago that one of the things that separates the best sailors from the also rans is the ability to take responsibility for for what they do and not to make excuses. Well, on that basis, what follows should prove I am one of the sailing greats!
Another Sunday, Another 18 race in perfect conditions and another opportunity to make big steps forward in our campaign, all wasted. There is no getting away from it, we were useless. For 3 guys who can sail, we really managed to do a very good impression of a team auditioning for Amateur Hour.
It all started well enough. Arriving in the boat park early, we found a good slot close to the launching. But then the problems started. The forecasts were split between, on one hand, 20-30 knots NE and on the other, 11-14 knots NE. At least they agreed on direction! It was immediately clear that half the fleet had set aside their No 1 rigs, while the other had their No 2 ready to go. At 12.00 pm, the wind was probably no more than 8 knots and the debate went on, and on, and on....................... The one conclusion I came to is that if the fleet really was split, we would get it wrong! In the end, everybody went for No 1, so our life was made easy.
Decisions were made late and we rushed to get the boat rigged. And there lies the first problem. As newcomers who have rigged their boat less than everybody, instead of being in a position to launch early, as was the plan, but we ended up rushing and when you rush, mistakes happen.
So, finally, we launched, making the observation that the boat was getting easier to carry. Either we were getting stronger or we were learning to keep the bow into the wind so as to prevent extra load coming on. Progress.
As we sailed to the start, our confidence first grew as we sailed past another boat capsized and we felt there was no problem. then we tacked, only to find the control for setting the jib track was around the wrong side of the wing and the car couldn't go out even to the most inboard position we use..........and the knots in the rope were "challenging"! So our "settle down" time was spent undoing knots and rerouting string. No time to sail the course and check the boat out but so what, we were experienced skiff sailors!
We made the decision not to be aggressive at the start; find a good gap down from the pin and all the action and keep our nose clean. And for the first time, we managed to work our perfect hole, lined up where we wanted and at the time we wanted. All that was left to do was pull the trigger. A few seconds shouldn't make a big difference in a 1-2 hour race but at the start, it is the difference between glamour and eating dirt. And we managed to pull the trigger a few short seconds too late and all of a sudden, we were 3rd row of the grid, a grid of only 3 rows.
A tack to clear our wind and a tack back to sail to the favoured side went better than I would have hoped and we were up and running. Things were looking up. We were in the same bit of the harbour as the fleet and there were boats behind and we were quick. 2/3rds of the way up the first leg and we were probably back of the second row, rather than deep in the cheap seats and we rounded the first mark with some very respectable teams (who had sailed a bad leg), thanks to a lucky but perfect layline call that was worth a good 50 metres.
At last, we had a chance to show what should be our strong point, downhill speed. We are light and the conditions should have been perfect to show what we could do...............until the kite was hoisted. I am not sure which rigging method we were trying to copy, but it wasn't one that should be used on an 18. At least the kite wasn't upside down but with the sheet under something it should have been over and in front of something that it should have been behind, the end result was not pretty. Initially, there was no option other than drop the kite and reroute some string.
Unfortunately, we only partly sorted the problem but well enough to continue, if not with a perfect setting kite. However, we weren't last and we were travelling at speed. We called another near perfect layline and 2 gybes later we were close strapped, heading for the bottom mark. It was then that we realised that the routing of the sheet meant we couldn't play the sheet at the angle we were sailing. No option but to drop, sort it again and sail the leg with no kite. So, having sailed the 2 legs downwind with a kite for less than 40%, we rounded the bottom mark second from last, thanks to another team swimming and we were only 30 metres behind the next boat.
Rounding up, we then found our latest go fast modification, an automatic vang uncleating device, another bi-product of running strings the wrong side of each other when rigging. Worst still, the elastic take away was now the wrong side of the cleat. Not fast and not clever. Another chunk of ground lost but we were back up to speed and sailing well as a team, DFL ( dead f***ing last). We thought we gained a little upwind and rounded the top mark ready to push it down the run. It wasn't the perfect set but eventually we were up, running and gaining.
Until the gybe. Maybe we were getting tired, maybe it was the good lump of pressure we were in or maybe we simply haven't got our routines sorted, but at a time we shouldn't have, we hit the tide. Another opportunity to sort out a big mess and fall even further behind. It was all over. By this time the breeze was up and we were about a lap down. The forecast was for a rapidly increasing breeze and the team decided that to be caught out in 25 knots with No 1 rig was not something we wanted. Another wrong judgement call, as no sooner than we were ashore and the wind was back down.
Coming ashore gave the final opportunity to completely screw up and we managed that. Carrying the boat up the beach, the boat suddenly got a bit of load on and I was forced to my knees, trapped under the boat with a big weight on my back. I still don't really know what I did but it hurt, hurt enough to make walking difficult. Thanks to everybody who came to our aid. Monday at the phsio, a few hard pushes and pulls later and I feel like new. Our boat has a unique feature that makes carrying it more difficult than other boats so one priority is to change things. After all, in the words of Scott Babbage, if you can’t lift it, you can’t sail it.
In the bar, somebody asked if we broke anything and I could only reply, with truth, that the only thing broken was pride and ego. Even now, 48 hours later, I cannot quite believe how amateur we were. We did some good stuff, but managed to snatch embarrassment from the jaws of respectability. We debriefed and agreed some serious training was in order. Because of work pressures, that cannot begin for a couple of weeks so we are in damage limitation mode.
I sit here typing this feeling rather deflated, trying to remember when I last felt this. It was after a day racing 49ers, with Adam May and although only 4 boats out of 20 launched, we swam so much and I felt so bad in the boat I was ready to quit. Adam kicked my butt, got us back in the game and about 4 weeks later, all thanks to him, we won a race at Hyeres, the first category 1 event for 49ers. That was one of the proud moments in my sailing career. However, there is no Adam here so I need to kick my own butt and make it happen. I know the problem. We shouldn't be racing. We should be practicing. 2 hours of practice would be worth 3 or 4 races. In the mean time, it seems to be a full time job to keep myself fit enough. It seems that I also need sponsorship from my Physio!
Another Sunday, Another 18 race in perfect conditions and another opportunity to make big steps forward in our campaign, all wasted. There is no getting away from it, we were useless. For 3 guys who can sail, we really managed to do a very good impression of a team auditioning for Amateur Hour.
It all started well enough. Arriving in the boat park early, we found a good slot close to the launching. But then the problems started. The forecasts were split between, on one hand, 20-30 knots NE and on the other, 11-14 knots NE. At least they agreed on direction! It was immediately clear that half the fleet had set aside their No 1 rigs, while the other had their No 2 ready to go. At 12.00 pm, the wind was probably no more than 8 knots and the debate went on, and on, and on....................... The one conclusion I came to is that if the fleet really was split, we would get it wrong! In the end, everybody went for No 1, so our life was made easy.
Decisions were made late and we rushed to get the boat rigged. And there lies the first problem. As newcomers who have rigged their boat less than everybody, instead of being in a position to launch early, as was the plan, but we ended up rushing and when you rush, mistakes happen.
So, finally, we launched, making the observation that the boat was getting easier to carry. Either we were getting stronger or we were learning to keep the bow into the wind so as to prevent extra load coming on. Progress.
As we sailed to the start, our confidence first grew as we sailed past another boat capsized and we felt there was no problem. then we tacked, only to find the control for setting the jib track was around the wrong side of the wing and the car couldn't go out even to the most inboard position we use..........and the knots in the rope were "challenging"! So our "settle down" time was spent undoing knots and rerouting string. No time to sail the course and check the boat out but so what, we were experienced skiff sailors!
We made the decision not to be aggressive at the start; find a good gap down from the pin and all the action and keep our nose clean. And for the first time, we managed to work our perfect hole, lined up where we wanted and at the time we wanted. All that was left to do was pull the trigger. A few seconds shouldn't make a big difference in a 1-2 hour race but at the start, it is the difference between glamour and eating dirt. And we managed to pull the trigger a few short seconds too late and all of a sudden, we were 3rd row of the grid, a grid of only 3 rows.
A tack to clear our wind and a tack back to sail to the favoured side went better than I would have hoped and we were up and running. Things were looking up. We were in the same bit of the harbour as the fleet and there were boats behind and we were quick. 2/3rds of the way up the first leg and we were probably back of the second row, rather than deep in the cheap seats and we rounded the first mark with some very respectable teams (who had sailed a bad leg), thanks to a lucky but perfect layline call that was worth a good 50 metres.
At last, we had a chance to show what should be our strong point, downhill speed. We are light and the conditions should have been perfect to show what we could do...............until the kite was hoisted. I am not sure which rigging method we were trying to copy, but it wasn't one that should be used on an 18. At least the kite wasn't upside down but with the sheet under something it should have been over and in front of something that it should have been behind, the end result was not pretty. Initially, there was no option other than drop the kite and reroute some string.
Unfortunately, we only partly sorted the problem but well enough to continue, if not with a perfect setting kite. However, we weren't last and we were travelling at speed. We called another near perfect layline and 2 gybes later we were close strapped, heading for the bottom mark. It was then that we realised that the routing of the sheet meant we couldn't play the sheet at the angle we were sailing. No option but to drop, sort it again and sail the leg with no kite. So, having sailed the 2 legs downwind with a kite for less than 40%, we rounded the bottom mark second from last, thanks to another team swimming and we were only 30 metres behind the next boat.
Rounding up, we then found our latest go fast modification, an automatic vang uncleating device, another bi-product of running strings the wrong side of each other when rigging. Worst still, the elastic take away was now the wrong side of the cleat. Not fast and not clever. Another chunk of ground lost but we were back up to speed and sailing well as a team, DFL ( dead f***ing last). We thought we gained a little upwind and rounded the top mark ready to push it down the run. It wasn't the perfect set but eventually we were up, running and gaining.
Until the gybe. Maybe we were getting tired, maybe it was the good lump of pressure we were in or maybe we simply haven't got our routines sorted, but at a time we shouldn't have, we hit the tide. Another opportunity to sort out a big mess and fall even further behind. It was all over. By this time the breeze was up and we were about a lap down. The forecast was for a rapidly increasing breeze and the team decided that to be caught out in 25 knots with No 1 rig was not something we wanted. Another wrong judgement call, as no sooner than we were ashore and the wind was back down.
Coming ashore gave the final opportunity to completely screw up and we managed that. Carrying the boat up the beach, the boat suddenly got a bit of load on and I was forced to my knees, trapped under the boat with a big weight on my back. I still don't really know what I did but it hurt, hurt enough to make walking difficult. Thanks to everybody who came to our aid. Monday at the phsio, a few hard pushes and pulls later and I feel like new. Our boat has a unique feature that makes carrying it more difficult than other boats so one priority is to change things. After all, in the words of Scott Babbage, if you can’t lift it, you can’t sail it.
In the bar, somebody asked if we broke anything and I could only reply, with truth, that the only thing broken was pride and ego. Even now, 48 hours later, I cannot quite believe how amateur we were. We did some good stuff, but managed to snatch embarrassment from the jaws of respectability. We debriefed and agreed some serious training was in order. Because of work pressures, that cannot begin for a couple of weeks so we are in damage limitation mode.
I sit here typing this feeling rather deflated, trying to remember when I last felt this. It was after a day racing 49ers, with Adam May and although only 4 boats out of 20 launched, we swam so much and I felt so bad in the boat I was ready to quit. Adam kicked my butt, got us back in the game and about 4 weeks later, all thanks to him, we won a race at Hyeres, the first category 1 event for 49ers. That was one of the proud moments in my sailing career. However, there is no Adam here so I need to kick my own butt and make it happen. I know the problem. We shouldn't be racing. We should be practicing. 2 hours of practice would be worth 3 or 4 races. In the mean time, it seems to be a full time job to keep myself fit enough. It seems that I also need sponsorship from my Physio!
3 comments:
Just discovered your blog. Great read. Looking forward to lots more of the same.
Sailing a Bladerider and an 18' skiff, eh? What a way to enjoy a mid-life crisis!
Good post Simon. It's always fun starting off in the 18. But keep your chin up, it's only going to get windier.
You’re sailing one of the toughest class of boat in the world. It’s not going to be easy. Keep at and keep the blog updated with your progress.
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