[Public-List] An unaccustomed responsibility

[Gordon Laco via Public-List]

Hello gang - 

Last night was race night at our club... We have a convention I think other
clubs use as well as ourselves where participating yachts each take a turn
doing race committee duty.   Actually I was one of the instigators of this
programme, which was set up in order to cure a chronic shortage of skilled
volunteers.  We reckoned (correctly I think) that if racers were taking
turns running the races, we¹d have informed and motivated people rotating
through the duty.

Well, somehow, I¹ve managed to go eight years without having to run a race.
I should be doing it once a season or so but between the RCN, work and
whatever, I¹ve somehow avoided it.  This summer my turn came up during my
jaunt to the Syronelle, so I switched nights with one of our rivals.  That
meant last night was the night.  There was no honourable way out of it so
SURPRISE¹s crew trooped down to the club early so we could figure out how to
run the race.  Where¹s the keys for the fuel locker?  Where¹s the form for
recording the results?  What flags go up and down and when?  It was all
written down but the doing is a little different from the reading about....

Clint, (the Viking for those who met him at the Syronelle) was detained at
work waiting for a client, so I scooped a fellow nick-named Œthe old man of
the sea¹ at our club for his long white hair and matching beard.  He¹s not
all that old but he is a man of the sea and is famous around here for
rescuing racing dogs and giving them gentle retirement years.  I made him
Flag Man, I ran the watches and Steve (the tall guy, for those who met him
during the Syronelle) did everything else.

Out we went ­ the Man of the Sea calm and content with the well defined job
I gave him, Steve bounding alongside our committee boat in the orange RHIB
carrying the windward mark, and me, a bundle of performance anxiety driving
the committee boat.

The wind was WNW about 15 knots and building.  We went way out into the
Sound to be clear of the land to windward, and like Conan the Barbarian
choosing his ground to fight the Picts, declared that we would set up the
start line HERE.    We heaved the start line buoy over the side then motored
along to anchor the committee boat.  The boat is a pontoon boat with a 40hp
Merc on it, a crabby jerky slob of a thing.    As things turned out we had
to re-anchor three times to get a line somewhat square to the wind.  I sent
Steve off in the RHIB telling him to go dead to windward and give us a long
windward leg... He went about two miles and dead upwind ­ good man.  Back he
came and clambered aboard.

A glance at my watched reminded me that we had about twenty minutes before
the 18:30 start.  Lots of time to forget what to do.  We had a huddle going
over the flag and horn sequences for the two-fleet start.  I could tell that
I was the weak link, so made sure I didn¹t do what I normally do, which is
try to control too much myself.  The Man of the Sea stayed on flags, Steve
added the stop watches to the horn duty I¹d given him... I was the worrier
and kept the notes on the races.

The clock crept toward 18:30.  During the wait we re-anchored again squaring
the line (once for a wind shift, once when we were dragging).  Finally,
18:30 came and we gave the three hoots indicating the start of the start.
We rattled down the A Fleet start, and what a sight it was when the whole
herd of them came stampeding up (the wind was now over 20) like buffalo
approaching the edge of a stream.  They were all a few seconds early so laid
off to run the line jostling and shouting at each other.  The count came to
zero and we gave our start hoot...and as one, the whole line of boats
twitched up to windward and started as if they¹d all been connected to our
horn¹s button.    The stragglers staggered along after them, but we hardly
noticed being fully engrossed in the five minute count down to the B Fleet
start.    In due course away they went; and I could relax.  Nobody was over
early and had to be called back.  My line was square to the wind and the
windward mark, and best of all our timing was bang on.

The wind continued to build.  The sound got choppy and we had an interesting
time watching our various rivals as they charged around the course.  It was
very interesting watching the spinnaker dowsing in the heavy air ­ I was
surprised how early most skippers pulled the kites in.  I remarked to Steve
(who is SURPRISE¹s foredeck man) that because of my confidence in SURPRISE¹s
crew, we can usually carry the Œchute much closer to the downwind mark than
we were seeing on the course.  We speculated continuously about how SURPRISE
would be doing if she were on the course.  I think it would have been a good
night for us.  One A fleet boat came careering downwind and gybed wildly
just before the leeward mark... She would have to gybe again if she was
going to get around....but she didn¹t.  She rounded up with sails flogging,
fell away on the wrong tack, then rounded up again.  We could see a lot of
activity aboard her and wondered if somebody had been hurt.  We learned
later that she¹d torn a main sheet boom bail out of her boom and that¹s why
she retired. Phew.

Finally the leaders were coming down the last run toward their finishes.
There was a terrific battle between EVERGREEN and LEVITY who galloped across
the line absolutely neck and neck.  Overlapping the trailing A fleet boats
came the leaders of B Fleet.  WOLFPACK, a pesky Shark being carefully
steered to stay under her spinnaker, came semi-planing along and sailed away
far past the finish out of shear joy of her speed.  FOOL HARDY, another
Shark I¹d sailed aboard when I was a boy and she was owned by Mr. Hardy, a
quiet, competent sailor at RCYC who was elderly back in the Œ70¹s, came
bounding down gambling that a broad reach might be faster than a dead
run..it might have been because she was really moving.  With her crew and
skipper hiking out and shouting to each other, she cut diagonally across and
finished just clipping aft of the committee boat, splashing our stern with
her bow wave.  Then came MAID MARION and SUNDANCE, our main rivals, both
plowing hard settled deep between their bow and stern waves and having a
great battle with each other. (would we have been ahead???)  The rest came
home in due course.

What a great night ­ what a relief to have done my duty!    At the club
after several sailors thanked us for the long course, the square line.  It
was easy ­ what was I so worried about?

We¹ll be out there racing next week.

Gord
#426 Surprise