Memorial Day Regatta

The now famous Memorial Day Regatta, first held in 1945 with some 23 boats participating, is now limited to 150 boats with competitors from all over the West Coast. It's fun to be part of such a great regatta at home. There were 21 Santana 20's on the line for a total of six races.

The weather was quite nice... on Saturday and weird on Sunday. It was cloudy, cool, and the wind was all over the place making for very unpredictable racing. Even so... we improved our position from second place after day 1 to a one point lead for first going into the last race... Well that was our worst race in terms of our finish. It was also the most frustrating in terms of wind. With that result tossed out, we ended the regatta in second place behind a very strong boat (two former class champions). There's a pretty good story on the S20 class website.

Another (less flattering) story made it into the Sunday edition of our local paper. It was funny listening to people (serious racers... ) complain about how they already struggle to convince their friends that what they do isn't simply an excuse to drink beer. Well now it should be much more difficult.

On a serious note, this regatta reminds us of some of the people we are thankful for. Those that in many ways allow us to enjoy weekends like this. The regatta is on Saturday and Sunday. That gives us Monday to observe Memorial Day. We took our kids to a local ceremony. I think it was a good time to remember what the holiday is really about.

That's a Lovely Broach

Photo credit: Sean Trew. Pacific Fog

In summarizing our SOCKS Regatta experience, I mentioned "BIG air on Saturday with lots of destruction, many DNC/DNS/DNF and our own spectacular wipe out..." Someone noticed the carnage from their house and started a thread on Sailing Anarchy. There were at least two Holder 20s that got swamped in the same downwind run we were on when we wiped out.
We had just rounded the windward mark and our skipper noticed a couple Holders in front of us flying their kites. He basically said, "If Chris can do it, the we can too!" The two Holder skippers used to own Santana 20s and we've raced them before. So we did our set and got things cleaned up and started making gains on the (three) boats in front of us. I don't think any other S20s put up a kite.
Well I think we all got hit by a big puff or some of those tanker waves... (or both). At any rate, things went from the ride of the weekend to a flaming broach in no time. I started climbing for high ground and cleated sheets and then noticed the skipper was not in the boat... This is not good. He was hanging on by a thread... Well actually it was the spin sheet and back stay. Apparently the wipe out was so demoralizing our skipper felt compelled to fall on his tiller.
After we got everything under control and the skipper back in the boat, I noticed our knot meter was knocked off its mount (inside the companion way). I picked it up and the last speed recoded was 12.3. Wow! I wonder if that was our forward speed...
The Holders didn't fair so well. Two of them went done at the same time we did. One of them actually turtled. Needless to say their racing was over for the weekend. One was towed in while mostly submerged (seen tied up along the dock). The other was cut free during the first towing attempt and later recovered , pumped out and towed in by Vessel Assist. The later recovered their rigging. There were plenty of other damaged sails, a couple dismastings and lots of minor problems as a result of Saturdays racing. These are the conditions that test boat and sailor. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured.
Oh, yeah... one more thing. I showed the picture of our broaching boat to my son and he asked, "How come the spinnaker is in the back?"

H2O Boa wins 2007 SOCKS and Santana 20 District 6 Championship

This years SOCKS Regatta was pretty cool for several reasons:

1. First time sailing a Seattle Yacht Club sponsored regatta
2. First time racing on Puget Sound at CYC
3. Periodic views of the Olympics
4. Massive tanker waves...
5. Seeing a Mini Transat Zero in Seattle
6. Eight keel boat fleets, six centerboard fleets and a whole lot of experienced sailors
7. Nine races in two days
8. BIG air on Saturday with lots of destruction, many DNC/DNS/DNF and our own spectacular wipe out...
9. EYC S20's with a strong showing
10. Winning the regatta and S20 District 6 Championship by one point
    

Communication: Key to Winning

Maybe was because there's a regatta (S.O.C.K.S.) coming up in a few weeks... Maybe it was because we upgraded from our number 3 genoa to number 2. Maybe it was because the wind speed was more to our liking... (although it went light toward the end of the race). Whatever the reason, communication on the boat was (IMO) excellent! Good enough to win race 4 of the Spring Series. There are three of us on a Santana 20: helm (skipper), middle and foredeck (that's me). On our boat, we clearly have a skipper but we also make decisions together.
I think it started in the pre-race setup, carried through right to the start and ultimately the finish horn. The other two have been sailing together for over 30 years. I joined them about 9 years ago. We have our roles pretty well figured out as you might imagine. Much of the time there's just a collective flow of information. Questions come up periodically and someone responds to but generally we each provide information based on our task and perspective. This information is taken and processed by the other two to help them with their tasks and influence the information they in turn need to feed back.
So, for example we are going to tack. "Ready about, helms a lee"... we roll and jump back to the new high side, in lighter air where we don't immediately come up to speed, I'll call out the numbers from the knot meter, our middle is looking for wind and waves and indicates the head sail trim. Our skipper (hearing the speed increasing) say he's coming up and works together with the trimmer as we become close hauled. Other maneuvers are similar...
And sailing up and downwind is also about communication when you're racing. The helmsman is watching the sails and driving. The trimmer is watching the sails and looking forward. I'm generally looking for wind and the boats around (ideally behind) us. Each of us indicating what we observe.
These are some of the key lessons in communication on our boat:

• Listening is as important as talking -- providing information is important but everyone must also take the input of others to improve what they are doing and thinking.
  
• Non-verbal -- On our boat, we know each others body language and tendencies. This helps understand what's happening on the boat even when the words are few. A hand motion indicates the location of a boat behind us. There are also times when you don't want to say anything. Worked out ahead of time, if I go forward everyone knows the boat behind us is going up and we're jibing.
  
• Efficiency -- This has to be developed. This requires two parts that are generally worked out ahead of time. The words that are said have to convey the intended meaning (as they are received). For example, "give me more vang" is ambiguous... Do I ease it or snug it up? So you work out a common language or understand of how things will be stated so the meaning is clear.
  
• Confidence in others role and ability -- This takes time as well. The more confidence each of us has in the others the easier it is for us to focus on our own jobs. In terms of communication, there's no second guessing the input or information coming from anyone.
  
• working together... timing is everything -- All of it comes together and you feel like things are firing on all cylinders. That doesn't necessarily mean mistake free.... We all know mistakes happen! But when they do, all of the above should help.
  

Hey, communication must be important... there are courses offered on this stuff.

Speaking of embarrassing moments...

Sailing is a mystery to many people. They're not sure what makes the boat go (it's the wind right...?) nor what makes it stop. I found this video on Eli Boat.

Apparently, even some sailors don't know what makes em go or stop... Ouch! Fortunately, I haven't even witnessed something like that.
As for those who don't know what makes a sailboat go, I heard a good story from my skipper. He was out sailing his Santana 20 and came across a powerboat that was dead on the water. They apparently had engine trouble and Gordon offered to give them a tow. After they got over the shock of his offer, they accepted... not exactly sure how this was going to work. Well Gordon circled around them (because you really can't stop a sailboat) and indicated he was going to toss them a line (um, a rope) they should tie off on their bow (ah, that's the front...). These guys apparently thought they were going to pull a fast one on Gordon (who noticed they looked at each other and smiled as one of them likely suggested a prank). It seems the guy that caught the line thought he could pull back on the taut line and somehow bring Gordon's 20 to a halt... Well... after the guy swam back to his powerboat and was pulled out of the lake, Gordon circled back around for another attempt. The powerboat guys got the message about tying off to a cleat on the bow and received a tow in to the marina from a sailboat. What a sight!

Most Embarrassing Sailing Moment

This story has been dubbed "Protest Shoe":

I've accepted a Group Writing Project assignment from Tillerman. Yes... a dingy sailor... Not holding that against him, he's got a reasonable idea to have some fun, build community and learn something in the process. You see the whole idea of blogging (or any online collaboration) is to get readers contributing rather than just consuming. He's asked that we "blog about the worst mistake or most embarrassing moment [we] had while sailing" and let him know about it. He'll post links to the results of our labor and Proper Course becomes the hub of sailing disasters...
I don't know if this ranks as my most embarrassing sailing moment... I try to block them out as quickly as the come. This is, however, one moment... one embarrassing moment... that I remember (at least partially) and one that has a lesson. It's been several years now but I used to wear these red "salt washed" Sperry Stripers. I'm glad to see they no longer carry them in red. While I don't really remember the situation, it was probably just a Thursday night race which is typically a little less competitive and often more forgiving when it comes to protest situations. On the other hand, it could have been a regular weekend regatta.
At any rate, we probably got into a little NASCAR yacht racing. My skipper is fond of saying, "If you can drop razor blades between our boats, then we're not close!". I'm sure there was yelling, quoting sailing rules, arguing which rules apply or not and eventually the word... "PROTEST"! At that point, Gordon would initially reach for the protest flag before realizing it wasn't hanging on the backstay. This would lead to a frantic and repetitious call for, "Mike, get the protest flag!".... "Mike, get the flag out!" On this occasion, the protest flag in its little black, plastic film canister is AWOL (Do you remember film?). I'm searching in all the usual and even some unusual locations for the protest flag and coming up empty. Then Gordon notices my red Sperry's and says, "Give me one of your shoes... tie it off on the backstay!" What? You've got to be kidding! Nope, to make the protest official, we have to fly a flag or in this case something red is good enough for Gordon.
So, off comes my shoe and it's tied off and dangling from the backstay. Gordon is happy that his protest is now somehow legitimate and I'm sitting there with one shoe on and the other hanging by a thread. I'm just wondering when I'll get my shoe back.... I don't think we had to finish the race with the flag. If I recall correctly, the other boat spun circles, clearing themselves and my shoe from further embarrassment.
So now we have a rule on the boat that it's not fully rigged for racing until the protest flag is on the backstay ready for deployment. And I no longer wear red Sperry Stripers...

Weird Wind...

THE WIND-GNOME from Jonas Lie's "Weird Tales From Northern Seas"

Maybe you've heard that it never rains on a golf course... Sometimes I think the same applies to sailing in that it never rains on the lake but we all know better! Last night was Women Skipper night, race 1. It's done once per month and over the course of the season constitutes a series. For the past three years, Don and I have traded our skipper for a women and won the Women Skipper series.
With the rain coming down in buckets at times, it seemed likely our first night with a new skipper would be interesting. As it turned out, not a drop of rain fell on us the entire night. That's not to say that rain wasn't falling... It's just that it was falling all around us! With the wind coming out of the SW (where we typically get rain), the RC set up for a 6C which is a windward, leeward (once around) with a center finish on our Olympic circle.
Our pre-race approach was conservative. We checked the wind... pretty square. We checked the line... boat favored. We set our tacking angles. Making note of the time as we passed the committee boat on port, we timed our return for the start. That worked pretty well for someone driving a Santana 20 for the first time in a race. We were about a boat length shy of the line but had good speed when the "gun" went off.
The first leg was about finding the groove for our skipper. Trying to make subtle corrections to keep the boat pointing without stalling or luffing too much. We also tacked a few times which takes some getting used to for a 20 skipper. There's not much room back there with the old deck. We came into the windward mark hot on the tail of the first place boat. Both of us hoisted fairly well but we were the first to jibe and head down for the leeward mark. Ordinarily, we'd do a jibe set but not with a new skipper....
Now we get to the fluky part. After we pass through the center of the course, we notice a significant wind shift. At first, it's a reach but moving too far forward to carry the spinnaker. We fall off. We soon realize that we need to douse quickly and end up beating into the leeward mark! Do you get the irony? As we round the leeward mark in first place, we hoist the kite to run to the line.... only this wind won't take us that far. It's not long before we have to douse again and beat upwind to the finish.

H2O Boa (yellow boat) beating to the leeward mark...

So, what's going on? Well we had wind and rain coming in from the SW (over the Coast Range). We also had wind and rain from earlier in the day that was dropping its load in the Coburg Hills to the east. In the image, north is to the right, the Pacific is along the top and Fern Ridge Lake is the blue area at the southwest end of the Willamette Valley. The Coburgs are the big hills in the left, center. All this rain generated an east wind. The (fuzzy) line where east wind met west wind ran through our race course and likely kept us dry... It's always interesting when you have upwind and downwind racing on the same legs of a race!