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Highlights:
We surf, man. I mean totally radical, man. Way cool.
Downers:
We have to sail back, upwind in lumpy wind-against-tide seas. We've exposed our speed to the opposition in a social race. Should have saved it for the real thing.
Result:
Another fine result, this time in a social race. A warm fuzzy feeling of togetherness, overcoming the elements, bonding with the crew.
Lessons Learnt:
The Bitch can sometimes surprisingly be a sweet little pussycat - albeit with a rather nasty way of showing her teeth at times. Tiller extensions can be very unreliable. Children have to be constantly reassured that, "No, we're not all going to pitchpole and drown!" So does the skipper.
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Social Pursuit Race to Bird Island. Friday 31st October
Wind 15-20 Northerly becoming North Westerly increasing to 20-28 knots at times
And here's us hoping for flat calm. Still, the last two times we've set off on this race the wind has died completely just as we turn the corner at South Pole, so we haven't actually ever made it to Bird Island yet. Perhaps we will today. Get down to the Club, this time leaving all the sails in the car while I sip coffee in the Clubhouse. The crew end up taking them down to the boat - a first! Briefing is 9.30 and our start time is 11.16, last in the fleet, followed a minute or so later by two Hobie cats. Today we're using our new reefing system, and hurling along on reaches while counting down to the start.
Off we go, but the other boats are by now miles away, almost down to South Pole, spinnakers set. We hoist ours and soon have to gybe, resulting in the very usual complete and utter wrap-up. Another perect hour-glass shape! Losing time to the Hobies in hot pursuit we finally manage to detangle the Bitch (Hamish loses his sunglasses over the side in the process) and continue to the mark.
The wind's holding to the North East so we are able to lay the mark pretty well. I'm not sure if we can carry the Bitch on the reach but I'm told to try, so gybing once again (slightly better this time) we get on to our new course eastward to Bird. The wind has shifted round just a little to the West of North and we start to fly.
Did I say Fly? We are surfing, dude!!! An estimated 14 - 15 knots, maybe more. We scream down the course, snaking off the tops of waves and trying to hold the boat steady as she planes. There's a loud hum almost continuously. The wave height is about two to three feet with white-caps and we are absolutely 'going for it'. This is incredible! The boat is just on the edge of broaching and it takes all my concentration.... The tiller extension suddenly decides to extend itself and wham: Helmsman in the bottom of the cockpit, trying to rebound himself to weather, helm hard up to keep the boat from rounding up and doing a massive broach. Milliseconds later it seems we are hurtling down the course again, humming loudly. Our daughters are aboard, Christina and Gina, not too sure whether they're having fun or not, but they're caught up in the thrill anyway. We're veering to windward, increasing pressure and then steering away on top of the wave crests. The boat is lifting and surfing, with a bow wave to the lee that reaches up, a solid wall, cascading down past our stern!!!
This is amazing. We hurtle past Yella Belly at more than twice her speed, overtake a speedboat (well almost), and catch up to First Fling within sight of the finish transit, finishing a good couple of minutes ahead of her, taking first in the cruisers. We even beat one of the Hobies, although the other one just pips us to the post. What a buzz! I'm shaking with the adrenalin rush, and keep it up all through lunch, rafted alongside First Fling and Yella Belly at anchor behind the reef.
Lunch over, it's time to slog back upwind, so we cast off, drift back and set the sails. Out from the lee of Bird Island (all of about 2 feet at the highest point) the waves are lumpy, wind against tide, so we weave a snaky course back to South Pole and then harden up for the long beat back. The crew are now really useful. We're taking a lot of spray and water over the bow, and they're doing a brilliant job of catching all of it. The helm remains dry and comfortable. They on the other hand are getting cold and wet. But this, it has to be said, is all part of the joys of crewing! We pass Yella Belly and continue to draw away and get back up to the Club with just a few tacks, spilling wind, lee-rail under.
What a buzz. Still high on the 'rush' we head back in to the Clubhouse to replace lost liquids - a ritual amongst the cruiser fleet. |
