WNR Is A Puzzle
And we are still trying to solve it...
Last night was a Wednesday Night Racing brochure day. Warm. 8-10 knots of breeze (dying toward the finish, but still enough to finish). Beautiful sunset. And a fun crew happy half-hour on the dock after. The only thing that wasn’t perfect was our race.
Every regular race series has its own nuances and challenges. Annapolis Wednesday Night Racing is full of them: lots and lots of boats, tricky breezes and currents, lots of different courses to understand, and a finish up the narrow and building-dense Spa Creek to the AYC Clubhouse. Part of the fun is figuring them all out, and moving up the ladder. I think I am a slow learner.
The first two WNRs were extreme: too little wind, and then lots and lots of wind, so our main preoccupations were trying to finish and then avoiding any disasters. Last night’s perfectly agreeable breeze made the boat-handling easier (though we still have some kinks to work out), and instead introduced the need to master all the other quirky AYC WNR factors. Master them we did not.
Let’s start at the beginning. The course set was a semi-beat (very starboard-tack favored) out the Severn River, leaving a mark in the river to port, and then a gybe mark in the Bay to port, followed by a reach/run back up the Severn, and another semi-beat (port-tack favored) to the finish. I was looking forward to a relaxing race, with little drama. But pre-start we almost reprised our Race 1 near-smashup.
This time we were on starboard, running the line, and a port-tack boat was coming at us. We were set to pass port-port. I saw the bowman look at us, then signal his helm to come up toward the line. This was a strange decision, as it put him on a collision course with us. I figured he would realize the error and signal his helm to turn down. Not a bit. If anything, his hand signals seemed perfectly calculated to bring about a bow to bow collision. So I turned down. And of course, his helm, perhaps suddenly realizing in a panic (as I did the first week) that he was a port-tack boat about to collide with a starboard tack boat, turned down too. Now we were seconds away from a crash. I didn’t have room to turn back up, so turned further down. He finally came up a bit and we both squeaked past. Did he look at all apologetic? No, he did not.
That mini-excitement passed, we got a good start in clear air at the middle of the line, with the Italia 9.98 bow out and a few boat-lengths to leeward. There was a smaller boat between us who got eaten up by us and then tacked behind us. We held starboard tack as long as we could, and then flipped over on port to lead all the boats to leeward back across the course. So far, so good. The Italia was with us. Hornet, the J33 was nearby. And as we approached the starboard tack layline to the first mark, Xiberger, the well-sailed Cape Fear 38, was just crossing us. All faster boats. All good company to have in sight.
After Xiberger went by we tacked back onto starboard, laying the first mark. This was a mistake for two reasons. The first was that when we arrived lots of boats were piling into the mark on port tack, creating a messy jam of boats, and obliterating any clear lanes. We got stuck in the melee. And when we finally tacked to clear our air, got ping-ponged back by a bunch of starboard tack boats coming up from behind. Not good. The result: super-tight to bad lanes, and little opportunity to choose where we wanted to go. When we did finally did manage to tack our way to a better lane to the next mark, we had given up A LOT of ground. Traffic management turned out to be a key challenge of the race. And we managed to mostly put ourselves in traffic without an EZ Pass.
The second reason it was a mistake to tack onto the starboard tack layline to the first mark (which sailed us into a mess o’ boats) was that the second mark of the course, the gybe mark out in the Bay, was to weather of the first mark. So instead of bearing away at the first mark, we continued the beat, which had more port tack in it. At that first mark, if we had just continued on port tack for another 100-200 meters, and then tacked onto starboard, we could have sailed in clear air most of the way to the second mark. This is what Aunt Jean, a J-35 that was well behind after the start did. And I saw her make huge gains. So course management (and understanding) also turned out to be a key. And we suffered from the fact that everyone was busy with boat and sail-handling and we didn’t have anyone whose primary role was to be looking at the course, and all the traffic, and brilliantly guiding us through and around it all. Every race has its lessons.
We did have a great run back up the Severn. At the gybe mark, a blue sportboat to windward of us called over and said we had no overlap and therefore no rights. I was skeptical. I asked Lisa on the bow what she thought, and then called over, politely, “Um, I don’t really agree.” As we both bore off a bit toward the mark, we clearly had an inside overlap, and were leeward boat (with rights). “Well, you are correct now,” the skipper conceded. Finally, a drama avoided.
We set the asymmetrical, and as the wind started to lighten and back, we popped it up onto the pole and rotated it around the headstay until we were eventually sailing it pretty deep. We felt fast (fast being a relative term in a 6 knot breeze). The sun was staring to dip toward the horizon, and spinnakers dotted the Severn. A beautiful panorama. And in the little pulses of pressure that remained we even managed to soak down to the final turning mark, eliminating the need for extra gybes.
The rounding turned out to be a fun one, a classic WNR cluster-drama. Three of use were overlapped (Bump In The Night to our inside, and another boat to our outside). Right at the mark the same sportboat we had discussions with at the gybe mark came flying in on starboard, claiming rights on everyone. This time the skipper was correct, and we needed to give room. As is often the case, the outside boat was reluctant to concede an inch more room than necessary. Moondust was well and truly sandwiched and I found myself trying to avoid being bumped by Bump while also not bumping the outside boat. I didn’t think it was going to be possible, but somehow we all got around without contact.
Bump got pretty excited anyhow, and said he was protesting us (though I don’t think they hit the mark or anyone else, so apparently there had been enough room). I explained I had been sandwiched and could not give more room without hitting the outside boat (which was the true give way boat), and wondered why anyone would want to finish a beautiful evening on the water in a protest room. Bump then said they would protest someone else, so we left it at that and straight-lined for Spa Creek.
As we got into the creek the wind got super-squirrelly. Rich and Brian wisely advised me to not try and chase it, but instead to keep the bow pointed at the finish when we got headed, and use our momentum to keep moving forward until the wind came back. So I did, which had us squeaking past a series of boats on the city moorings, most of which had people aboard enjoying cocktails and the spectacle of dozens of sailboats passing within inches as they clawed toward the finish. We got there eventually, and I don’t think our time from the last mark to the finish was slow.
Once again, though, we finished deep in the fleet. Traffic and course management being the main factors, I think. Since the Marion-Bermuda Race has been cancelled, we’ll be able to sail Wednesday Night Races into late June. That will give us a greater chance of putting it all together and putting up a good finish.
Still, there is no place I’d rather have been, and we enjoyed a few beers at the dock before the AYC crew departed. Maybe a few too many, as we managed to run aground briefly on the way back into Whitehall. It’s always something.
See you next week. But before you go…
Don’t Mess With Killer Whales: A dolphin may be a cousin, but apparently that doesn’t mean an orca won’t smack it around.
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