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Highlights:
A complete lack of anything you could describe as wind. (We really, really like that). Yella Belly howling at us. Us howling back (all because of a simple hull graphic, which does NOT do doggy-paddle). Hamish keeping his stomach to himself. Not ripping the Bitch this time.
Downers:
The stupid wind can't make up its mind at the top mark.
Result:
Two from Two. Four races to go. The Regatta sucked (4th overall).
Lessons Learnt:
Always, always, always demand to race when there's practically no wind. Remember where the wind is coming from at all times - and learn about apparent wind across the deck. Use the force more often.
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Race 2 Autumn Series. Medium Inshore. Friday 17th October
Wind 3-8 Southerly Easterly Variable
The trouble with Fridays is that it's your one and only day off a week, and what happens? Some silly sod decides that the cruiser fleet is going racing with a briefing at 9:30 - even when there's no wind. So you hang about (after getting up at the crack of dawn) til practically lunchtime, waiting for wind. As if we didn't create enough through our normal conversation. Its just like this today.
Get down to the club early and find the crew allready there, fat with greasy breakfast, say hello and then lug the sails down to the boat all by yourself, as usual. Not exactly the old Dennis Connor- 'my team does it all for me because I'm the leader' approach to things. But beggars can't be choosers...
Things are looking up. It's flat calm.... Which means Hamish might not be sick this time.
The briefing is postponed for an hour. Ken decides to let the fleet decide whether to race or not, in light of the appalling conditions we face. Everyone got out of bed specially so the vote is unanimous: We're racing. Getting out to the start we find Blue Chip cruising up and down, Ken aboard, asking everyone to decide: Do we really want to start?. Again the answer is a definate "Oh all right then". So we do
Early for the line, we have to do a last-minute 360, but we're at the windward end and manage to sneak through and overtake without anyone luffing us into a really handy 6 tonne steel beacon (East Pole), and head off up to East Bouy. Rounding this to Port we set the Bitch (asymetrical spinnaker that really has earned its name) for the run down to Pumphouse Port. We're drawing ahead. Around Pumphouse and south to Earth Station mark, we find the wind fickle. It seems to be on the fore so we don't set the Bitch, prefering our incredibly sophisticated 135 from those great chaps at Quantum. Big mistake with hindsight. We're drawing ahead again, but Aqualimbo isn't letting us shake her off easily. Round the mark and back to West Pole we find that the wind is still against us!! I think we stuffed up on the last leg and had the sails a bit tight (which might explain our lack of speed). Hard in such light air. Oh well, live and learn. Back around East Bouy (the supposed top mark) where we have a hell of a job with the wind - which won't blow from one direction, and keeps shifting through about 723.5 degrees, forcing us to tack about 17 times!
Hamish is fine in flat sea, although Bob's looking like he didn't really want his breakfast that much after all. And he keeps insisting on wearing his hat with the brim over the back of his neck. We tell him that this is NOT a skateboard park, but a highly refined racing yacht. He doesn't believe us.
Great run down to Earth Station again. We manage to run straight to the mark, tack around and head back up to the finish. The wind is steadying a bit around 6 knots, coming round to the Northwest. We cross at 14:02:56, worried that there's not enough in it between us and 'Limbo. Back at the bar we settle into our usual routine - replacing lost liquid. Ken as usual, gives nothing away until official de-brief when we find we have come first on PYR, and second on personal! Peter Spicer got that - good one Pete. (Update: We've been moved up to first on Personal as well, due to a mistake in the signing-on sheets. Sorry Pete!)
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