[Public-List] Raced last night...

[Gordon Laco]

Hello friends, 

We set forth last night for our usual Wednesday evening race... This one was
the mid-summer ŒSnake Island Race¹ held on a regular Wednesday night, but
instead of on course around buoys, this annual starts at the M20 buoy in our
harbour, east and around picturesque Snake Island, and back to the club for
a finish off our breakwater.

The air was light from the south (odd) and showing signs of pooping out.
The committee set a start with a short windward leg of about 300 meters to
M20, after which the mob would reach for the island.  With many of our A
Fleet boats away doing the Georgian Bay Regatta, the big boat bunch was
reduced to two boats.  Somehow gossip among the milling pre-start fleet led
to everyone convincing themselves that both A and B were going in one
start... I made a terrific start with the whole herd behind me only to
realize that my B fleet was starting second.  Back we went leaving the two
A¹ers to continue, chuckling to themselves.

We made a mediocre start in the second go, and by then the air had clocked
west so that starboard tack was distinctly not favoured, in face we could
barely lay the pin end of the line.  Seeing the boats ahead of us tacking
onto port, and hearing the rest behind me doing the same, I threw Surprise
about .... And found we couldn¹t get out of the way of a Shark who for no
logical reason wanted to continue on starboard tack barely making the far
end of the line.  I shouted Œsorry!¹ to him and and yelled that I¹d do my
720.  We did our spins and continued with a clear conscience last by a long
way.

At the windward mark minutes later, we popped up the chute and settled down
to reaching for Snake in the wake of the whole fleet.  This is the part of
the story where things got good for us. With the pole an inch off the
forestay we trudged along slowly catching up the trailing boats of the
fleet.   Then, marvel of marvels, the air began filling in and going more
west, we found ourselves in a mere matter of minutes transformed from a
depressed crew coaxing along at 1.5knts hoping to keep the spinnaker filled
to heeled over roaring along at 6.7knots with everything straining.  We
knocked off one boat after another through the fleet, until finally when we
neared Snake, wonder of wonders, we rounded first.  (yes, first)

We gybed the chute at high speed and without a hitch in order to put
Surprise on port tack for the douse.  Steve was poised on the bow with his
hand on the guy shackle lanyard (a foaming tumbling bow wave beneath him)
Peter was at the mast with his hands on the halyard and Clint hand his hand
on the body of the sheet ready to start gathering in.  I yelled Œset the
genny!¹ and out it came from the furler with a bang.  As soon as it was
sheeted and pulling I yelled Œlet Œer go ­ bombs away!¹ to Steve who popped
the guy pin letting the spinnaker fly free, hung now only by it¹s halyard
and sheet.  Clint was already hauling it in under the boom and throwing it
down the companionway, its descent controlled by Peter at the halyard.  In
seconds it was down.

We hardened up on the main and genny, all hands clearing up gear to
transform Surprise from a reaching boat to beating again (vang off, outhaul
in hard, spinnaker gear all stowed and crew stacked on the weather rail),
and charged around the pin at Snake.  We began climbing back toward the
finish, miles to windward.  We all shouted with pleasure.  As usual I
thought to myself, Œif only I hadn¹t screwed up at the start... This is
great, but we¹d be even further ahead...)

I¹ll gloss over the rest of the race; we sailed well, but as expected the
fleet, all pointing significantly higher than we could, slowly worked their
way up to us, some passed us on the long beat.  Regardless it was a terrific
race, I was very proud of my crew, and went home glowing.

Gord Laco
#426 Surprise

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