Day one of the Vallejo Race hosted by the Vallejo Yacht Club. I’m trimming on the Express 27 Strega
Saturday I have Kelly drive me up to Richmond Yacht Club. It’s east bay, north of Berkeley out on Point Richmond. I arrived at 9AM, rest of the guys show up around 9:30. I met Dave, Ben, and Nick and we get to discussing gear. Weather on shore was sunny and 70, forecast calling for 5-10 knots and high of 80. We pack light, some with only bib (pants), I and the others in shorts with weatherproof jackets and life vests. I help Dave rig the lines and sails while the others are tuning the shrouds. On this boat there are 4 shrouds per side. The turnbuckles that head to the junction of the mast and the first spreader shear off as they’re trying to get the right tension on them (measured with a Loos guage). So we’re stalled while the guys make a few runs to West Marine for parts. Meanwhile we set up the engine which sits on a removable perch off the back. Engine runs good. New parts on a tuned, we head out of the marina under motor.
As we go out we discuss positions. I’m the greenhorn so I’m willing to be flexible. Some spinnaker experience would be nice and is discussed, but we’re in a bit of a rush as it’s 10:30 and race is at 11:30. I’m assigned port-side grinder. I help tighten or ease the sheets during tacks upwind, I manage the boom while the trimmer flies the spinnaker during downwind jibes.
By 11:15 we have the motor in, sailing on a close reach towards the start. Wind has picked up a bit and waves as well. It’s hard to tell where the start is because 3 races were happening at the same time. We make a few radio calls to the SFYC race committee and eventually spot them. We arrive near the starting line with only minutes to spare.
The starting line is a marker (inflatable buoy) and the committee boat. The committee boat simultaneously shows a flag indicating which fleet is starting, and a number indicating the length of the course. The sailing instructions published a few days earlier outline a few courses, so it can be chosen based on weather on the day of the race. We’re in fleet 2, course number 3. That’s two “sausages”, or up and back leeward to windward, twice.
Horn gives us 6 minute warning, and a gun starts the race. Tactician and trimmer discuss course side preference with the skipper and we decide which tack to head out on based on wind, tides, and traffic. We tack a few times before reaching the windward mark. I’ve already added seconds to our time by staying on the leeward side of the boat way too long after a tack. Skipper tells me that I’m causing so much weather helm he can barely hang on to the tiller. I think back to my dinghy sailing… Heel to leeward causes boat to round up just based on the waterline profile. ”Weather helm” is caused when too much heel needs to be counteracted by the rudder. Throughout the day I try to get better at finishing my tacking tasks and getting to the other side, but usually I screw up in any of a number of ways: hang on to the lazy sheet too long, too slow to crank the jib in, trip on the jib sheet and yank it out of the cleat.
Racing is very different from cruising. By the end of the day the wind is at a steady 15-20 knots. Upwind legs are consistently at 20 degrees of heel or more. Downwind legs are a chance to ‘relax’ while we let the trimmer fly the kite and the rest of us just make subtle shifts to keep the boat level. Wind and waves which usually cause me to turn back home when cruising don’t even phase me here. We’re focused on trim and where we are in relation to the other boats. There are plenty of close calls as we have to remember who has the right of way (starboard tack). Distances are measured in mere feet from the mark or other boats. Sometimes we duck out of the way, other times we hold our course and force another boat off theirs. Everyone is soaked from waves regularly smashing into the hull. Sometime during the day it hits me that my knees and shins are destroyed from “climbing” the boat all day after tacks. Between races are a chance to grab a sandwich from the cooler, inevitably soggy from ice melting or water washing into the cabin on a aggressive tack.
We run 3 races on the first day. We place 9th and 10th out of 11 boats. Our standing is a little underwhelming, but at least we’re not last. I’m certain that I’m a big reason why we aren’t further up in the rankings. I do my best to acknowledge this to the rest of the crew and ask for tips for improvement. The guys are really constructive and helpful, and thankfully don’t throw me overboard. Once back at RYC, we moor up with another Express, put the sails and lines away and call it a day. Oh, and I drop my sunglasses overboard at the end of the day after we moor up.
On the way home I realize just how busted up I am. My knees are sunburnt to hell (still red and sore 3 days later), I can barely move my legs. My face is stiff and windblown. I’m SO glad I had brought my mechanics gloves I use for motorcycling otherwise I wouldn’t have any skin left on my hands. The only thing I did right was to work my back out like crazy in the weeks leading up to the race, so it feels ok. My ankles shins, and knees are covered in bruises all the way up and down.
Day two I’m well rested but my body still hurts. I decide to wear my foul weather overalls which makes things much more comfortable. It’s sunny and 70 on shore, the middle of the bay feels like 50 and foggy. We can’t even find the race. We literally do a circle around it and arrive at the starting line exactly when the gun goes off. We jibe around the committee boat and we’re off.
Only two races on day two, but it’s blowing like hell. 25-30 knots of wind keep us moving and make things real exciting. At one point I remember hanging on to the railing while the boat feels like it’s heeled 70 degrees over. I can’t see the leeward rail and the starboard winch is in the water. We make great speed upwind and are gaining on a number of boats. But we lose our advantage on the downwinds because we decided it’s too dangerous to fly the kite in this wind. Too dangerous while I’m on board, that is. It was sure fun to watch the other boats flying their spinnakers, though. I saw one broach, two kites entirely blown apart, and a countless number of twists and tangles trying to hoist. We stay on a broad reach jibing back and forth and still almost manage to keep up just because it was blowing so hard. The race commitee shortens the second to one sausage and an upwind finish. Day two we finish 9th and 8th out of 10 boats (one boat bailed half-way through the first race).
As we roll back in to RYC after the second day’s races, the wind calms down considerably in the shadow of Angel Island, so we hoist the kite for me to get some experience in. A few jibes and we’re back in port to clean up the boat and hoist it out of the water.
On the way home I made my wife stop at a Foster’s Freeze to get the biggest greasiest burger they sell. I probably could have eaten two.
Sailing to Block Island, RI from City Island, NY.
It was race week out at BI. Lots of impressive boats in the water. We discovered Gardiner’s Island and some wet sailing on this trip.
We’re currently at anchor close to Mattituck, taking a break from the storm which just went overhead.