Highlights:
Bravery again. Surfing on a downwind leg. Eating miles out of the Rapper (Rapscallion) on the beats!.
Downers:
Losing miles to the Rapper on the downwinds. 4 prizes: 5 boats. Guess who DIDN"T get a prize...
Result:
4th on Club Handicap. Well, come on, we were short handed. And it was a bit gusty. And we had a race-chick on board.
Lessons Learnt:
The right girl on board can make everyone look like they know what they're doing -so much so that things can even go right most of the time. Mike has learnt to sail Rapscallion. It's the dark side that we face (see fan mail).
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Winter Series Race 5. Friday 17 March
Wind 10-15 knots, North Westerly, gusting to 35 knots under thunderclouds!
It's a long inshore today, with rain, a fairly nasty forecast and grey seas. This is supposed to be spring on a desert island... and Bob is still writing his bloody thesis, so he's a no-show again, just when we could use his bulk on the rail.
Hamish and Neil are actually early for the 09:00 briefing, arriving just for once to help carry the sails down to the marina and rig the boat. But enough of that: Today is a very special day, because TeamJackal have invited their very first 'race-chick' out on the water, to thrill at our boat-handling and general seamanship; to gaze in awe at our sail-handling. At least, that's the plan.
We've been very careful with the instructions: Bring some money for our after-race drinks; wear a small bikini (black to match the spinnaker, but smaller), prepare to relax and laze about in the sun, looking good and raising the image of the team in virtually every way...
Yasmin arrives late, but she admits that it was because she was out all night partying with a group of gay girlfriends and got a bit carried away, quite forgetting her important first team appearance. She sounds convincing, but we don't believe her: Hamish looks highly worn out today. Fragile. Tired. Kind of, "I've had a really late night - and I plead the 5th".
So we carry on down to Jackal, rigging her, trying to start the bloody outboard in front of Aquilla's crew laughing at my exertions, and finally make it out of the Marina, out to the racecourse. Yasmin sits next to me, close. It's a security thing really, as, quite naturally, everyone feels safer close to the skipper, but I briskly move her forward. (I do need just a little bit of elbow room, especially in our 'panic moments').
Five minutes from the usual Pumphouse / Westpole transit start, we're right out to Port, but we gybe around and approach on port tack, ducking under Rapscallion and tacking below the others on starboard to cross on the nail, but in a kind-of middle position. Not bad, but not good either. We power up, hike out and head up to East Bouy, tacking around it to bear off for our run south to Earth Station mark. We're first round, so that's good. We raise the spinnaker (usually referred to as 'bitch') and she proves well-behaved. But the wind angle is horrible and we don't gain on Rapscallion over the leg - even though we gybe successfully and maintain good boat speed. Gybing successfully again around Earth Station we set a course for South Pole, but the wind is too much on the beam and we can't hold the sailplan. (I thought Yasmin was heavier, but she's actually quite a wee thing. Pity, we could have used some real weight [Bob] on the windward rail). So we drop the bitch and sail under jib, broad reaching across to the mark.
Luckily the others can't hold their spinnakers either, so all's not lost - at least not yet. Around South Pole we harden up on port and get Jackal settled down, adjusting sail trim for the beat, and then tack over onto starboard - before we hit the reef. The wind is strong and there's a lumpy sea as we carve our way up the course. I'm scalloping; rounding up in the gusts, trying to keep boatspeed as well and kind of pinching up to windward. This seems to work for us in stronger wind with a full sailplan.
At West Pole (the top mark) we confirm that we have gained significantly and bear off for our run right back to South Pole. The wind is up and we scream down the course, hull lifting and surfing. Although we distance ourselves from Rapscallion, it's not by enough. She's fast downwind and, unlike us runs a straight course, being conventionally rigged.
Another beat sees us draw ahead again, and another run sees our lead narrowed again. (The tiny little snarl up with the spinnaker, converted into an instant shrimp trawling net by dropping into the water, doesn't help) However, we finally round the bottom mark, head up onto the last beat and really get in the groove, dodging the weed as much as possible even though the infernal stuff has kept getting wrapped around our underwater appendages all day!
From a start at 10:30 we finish at West Pole at 14:25:20, only about eight minutes ahead. Not nearly enough as bloody usual. Seems to be a recurring theme.
We down sails. Neil and Hamish have almost run out of chit-chat (it's been about 4 hours which is a long time, even for their highly complex gossip). Yasmin has survived the ordeal and still smiles - despite having fallen into crumpled heaps on the cockpit floor on several tacks. But she hiked out like a trooper still the same, and she's proved to be a calming influence on the crew. They've been showing off their seamanship, and in the process getting most things almost right for the whole race, which has taken it out of them a bit. Me? Well, it's been a fun sail. Oh, alright, I admit it. I squinted at the sails, looking like I knew what I was doing a bit more than usual too.....
The million dollar question? Well, I guess that depends on the race-chick, but this one was tough, determined (bruised a bit) and a really good sport. She's now an officially approved TeamJackal babe. With merit.
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