Race #2

Departure: 6:00pm
Return: 8:00pm
Weather conditions: Clear & calm
Tide: ??
Boat: Wee Blow
Crew: 1 (Woody)

I feel spent. I'm sitting here in my chair trying to work up the energy to write this entry, and it's a struggle. Yesterday, I raced again, and that is tiring all by itself. Besides the race my wife and I stayed up until 11:00 painting. Later, after going to bed, my daughter woke us up complaining about a stomach ache, and then after that we were awakened again by a strange cat running around our bedroom in a panic. Apparently it had crawled in through the window we left open and couldn't remember how to get out. So yes, I'm tired, but that's not what this blog is about. You want another thrilling tale of the drama and adventure on the high seas, and I want to deliver.

Today's, actually yesterday's, drama is racing, and it started with the kind of drama that only mother nature can deliver. The temperature was warm (70), white puffy clouds raced above in their own sea of blue, and a gentle wind pushed form the south. Okay it was a little too gentle sometimes, but it was better than the week before, and I'm trying to paint a poetic picture here. Toward the end of the race, the glow of a beautiful sunset reflected off a very crisp looking Mt. Rainier. You couldn't lose being out on a day like this.

I was more prepared this time. None of my children wanted to come which was a bit of a bummer. It's more fun with one of them along. Even one of the other boats asked where my helmsman was. But, without a passenger to coach, I did have more time to study the conditions and prepare my strategy. First, I noted that the wind was from the south, and therefore, I'd be tacking all the way to the first mark at the far southern end of the harbor. My rigging (lug sail) does not do well close to the wind which means I have to zig and zag more often than the boats with the triangular sails (bermuda rigs). Second, the wind was light; another disadvantage. The curve of my homemade sail is not as ideal as it could be. Also, somehow I'd rigged flatter than usual. I wasn't sure what I'd done differently so I had to leave it. In light winds, it's better to have more curve in the sail than less. My strategy was going to be to watch what other good sailors were doing, and to allow for the broader tacks; hopefully making up for distance with speed. My final strategy was to make a better start, and I'm proud to say this turned out all right.

I milled around the starting line with everyone else and timed it so I was doing a beam reach along the starting line when the horn went off. It was a good start, but futile. An important truth blew across my brow; my boat is not fast. Everyone zipped past me on their first tack, and there was no denying I couldn't keep up. This was a little discouraging. I'd hoped, deep down in my heart, that at least in some conditions my boat could be competitive. It didn't matter though; it was still a beautiful evening and I wanted to complete the course. And, there was one boat that wasn't that much faster than me. It took them quite a while to get a good lead on me. It was the same boat I was behind last time.

The time to the first mark seemed to last forever. I hit good patches of wind at times and almost dead calm at others. I crawled past the Tides Tavern in shame while everyone got a good loooooonnng look at me. By the time I reached the first bouy, I was alone. I had a good breeze finally and was able to make the turn and run with the wind. I should point out that sailing close hauled, into the wind can be tiring. I think it's called beating to weather in sailing terms; I sure felt beaten. It wasn't the sea beating me though, it was the rigging. I have no cleats for my main sheet and my rudder is a little too short so I end up using brute force to bring the main in close while keeping the tiller steady behind my back. Even in light wind, this got old. I have some ideas for improving the rigging to make it easier. Leaving the first buoy, also meant leaving the beating behind.

Running with the wind was a nice break. I could hardly feel the wind because I was moving with it, and it was steady enough that I didn't have to jibe once. In fact, I tied off the main sheet, set the tiller and let the boat sail herself. I noticed that my shifting my weight I could make micro-adjustments to the direction without touching the sail or the tiller. I was able to stretch my legs and straighten my back, put on my sweatshirt and generally relax a bit. I feel I caught up a bit at this point because running with the wind is all about sail area and not so much sail curve. this put my boat on more equal terms with the others.

I reached the second mark (across from the starting line) in half the time it took me to reach the first; maybe even less. The wind served me well for a little while longer before it fizzled and I was left inching my way toward the third, and last, bouy. I did it though; I rounded the final buoy and headed back. I didn't actually go through the finish line. I turned in at my dock which was halfway between the third buoy and the finish. I didn't see the point really. Sure it would have been nice to finish, but the judge boat was gone, most of the other boats had gone in, it was getting dark, and I knew I needed to do my share of the painting at home. I felt good about rounding all three buoys and that was enough for me.

I plan on participating in the Gig Harbor Maritime Festival Dinghy races, but with my performance so far, I'm not sure it'd be worth it. I'll have to think about it. I have one week.

Until then.
Sail on.