Big Wind on Not so Big Boats
On Saturday, November 2, we were out on the water about to experience a lot more than a sailboat race. It was a day where we would experience nature in all its power and grandeur. This day was about trust: the crew’s trust in the skipper and the skipper’s trust in the crew. This was also a day for stories, and we want to share four of them with you.
We knew the night before that the race was going to be a barn burner. The weather reports predicted strong winds and big waves. On the dock the next morning, we picked up two crew members from boats not going out. We put one reef in the main and hoisted the 100% blade. It was more that we needed, but we were going down wind after the start, so we stayed with the decision.
What a ride to Boston Harbor! All the boats were reaching their hull speed and some were rounding up. The winds were a steady 30 knots and gusting higher. Huge stern waves!
Upon reaching Dana Passage the winds increased. The blade came down and the storm jib went up easily. The second reef went in and the boat became more balanced.
Now the challenge was to find the mark near Devil’s Head. Gaute, a former Sassy crewmember, spotted it bobbing about six inches out of the waves. It was farther from Devil’s Head than in previous years which was a good thing because we were now on a lee shore. We turned at the mark and screeched off towards Johnson Point. We all felt great: first around the mark and the boat under control. We saw several racers headed to the mark that were experiencing problems with too much sail area.
Rounding Johnson Point and entering Dana Passage was like entering a new world. The winds had increased and the ebb was changing to a flood. Big winds against a current means big waves and that is what Koosah found. We finally made it through Dana Passage and beat over towards Hunter Point. When the GPS started showing negative speed to Dofflemeyer Point we were able to tack and head to Boston Harbor. We were just short of making the Point and had to wear about again and head over to Cooper Point.
In Budd Inlet the waves were smaller but the wind remained. We were able to tack three times to the finish where Rushwind gave us the gun!
Koosah was under control the entire race. This was due to our sail selection of using a storm jib and the ability to put a second reef in the main. We communicated as a crew before each event, tacking, sail change, and tactics. It was one of the strongest winds Koosah has ever raced!
No doubt last weekend will be one of those races that sets a bench mark. So when it gets bad many of us will be able to say well it’s not as bad as Eagle Island 2013, and perhaps that will be a comfort.
In truth, although it was very windy, the crew on Genesis had the boat under control. We saw record speeds downwind even with a single reef and partially furled genoa. We peaked at 10 knots. The name of the game was stay in control and not break anything. So we looked ahead and reefed again when we saw the vortex outside Johnson Point.
The only situation we had during the race was when my rather large oversized spade anchor got knocked off the bow roller. The bow was burying into the large waves we were pounding into coming back upwind in Dana Passage. The heavy sharp points were definitely a threat to the hull.
We all have wondered if going to a third reef would have been smarter. We spent a lot of time with the level meter pegged at 45 degrees. And that is with a double reef and jib furled to storm size. Next time I think I’ll try that.
We were a bit late to the starting line because we were putting a good double-reef in the main, and hit the start line a minute late at 0936. Koosah was out in front, with Balder, Genesis, and us close behind. We had a great run to Dofflemeyer, and then the real fun began. Thankfully, we had to execute just one gybe, more accurately a round-up, on the way to the turn mark at Devils Head. The knot meter read over 9 knots on the downwind, with a double-reefed main and half rolled up genoa.
On the trip back we rolled up our headsail totally, and forged ahead slowly under the reefed main alone. Looking up Dana Passage, it was a wall of white water! Truly an incredible sight. As we reached the west end of Dana, the waves got bigger due to opposing wind and tide. We recorded a steady breeze of 35 knots! Koosah was in front of us and gave us confidence and the will to finish this journey. Vintage actually traversed the waves more smoothly than I expected.
Once coming out of Dana, the waves subsided to a more manageable 4-6 ft. We were able to look around, and saw only two boats on the water: Koosah ahead, and Genesis behind.. Once we turned the corner at Boston Harbor, we were relieved to have no more tacking, rolled out the jib half-way, and Vintage sailed beautifully all the way to the finish line. It was an amazing day: all were safe, and Vintage gets credit too, for carrying us through a day of wind which I frankly would not want to see again from the water’s surface!
Committee boat, Rushwind was not without adventure. Our crew was Barbara Emmons and Sharlyn and myself. After anchoring at the start line in the usual manner with 90 feet of scope for our heavy all chain rode, we began the start sequence. The first excitement came just as we were readying flags, start box Ollie, and shotgun. Our cozy kerosene heater suddenly snuffed out from a powerful blast of the steadily rising wind. This happens extremely rarely and, of course, I had forgotten to shut the heater off in such conditions. About five seconds after the flame went out, the very hot heater reignited with a bang almost as loud as the shotgun. The lid blew wide open and then back with a loud clang. Thick, choking smoke filled the cabin. Fortunately, the clean burning kerosene produced no shower of soot balls in the cabin. Had it been diesel, there would have been soot everywhere. Sharlyn was quick to shut off the fuel pump, switch on the electrical panel and then the stove control knob. It is critical to immediately stop fuel flow into the hot burner pot. I scrambled below to open all the hatches which are too high for Sharlyn to reach. Now the shrieking wind was our friend, and the cabin cleared in about ten minutes. We prudently did not relight the heater for the rest of the day!
We began by firing the gun for the D Class start. I talked later to a couple of racers who said they could not even hear it. The wind was now so strong we had difficulty keeping the flags vertical. We even had to move heavy Ollie to a safer place. The count-down continued, and, as the fleet flew away after the final gun, we carefully counted all the boats and wrote them down.
Just minutes after the B Class start, I noticed the shoal marker beginning to rapidly shrink in size. We were blowing across the inlet! I thought at first that our big 3/8 inch anchor chain had parted. A quick trip to the bow revealed a bar-tight chain with anchor still at the proper end. We dragged at about two knots and eventually fetched up solidly about 300 yards away from the original set. The wind was now so strong that we decided to wait for what we knew would only be a short lull. Sharlyn heated up some delicious soup and made sandwiches and crispy apple slices for lunch. Except for a line loudly slapping the mast, it was calm in the cabin. The big waves gave only slight motion.
A bit later, we emerged from the peaceful cabin into the maelstrom and noise and began the re-anchor drill. On re-anchoring, I upped the scope to 125 feet. We did not move again!
The four boats that finished the race all had tiny sails well tied in. Bodacious ripped their main and finished with only a jib [J is now thinking of adding spreader patches for the reefed sail. He also reported speeds of 17 kt down wind. Ed.]. The jib only configuration allowed them to sail down Budd Inlet well to windward without tacking. Koosah, with storm jib and double reefed main, had great sail shape and moved at speed. Vintage had a rolled jib with a baggy set but moved well too. Genesis also had both sails reefed and was moving well. All other sailors either dropped out early, or dropped out and sought refuge at either Zittle’s or Island Home. All in all, an amazing day out there in nature.
Dave Knowlton, Alan Niles, Ken Russell, and Joe Downing: edited by Joe
“ Know when to fold ’em.” Kenny Rogers
Ok, Kenny wasn’t singing about sailboat racing but it’s still good advice.
Pandora, our sturdy 1965 Cal 36, left the dock with a single reef in the main and our 110% jib. Predictions were for 15 - 20 knot winds, building to 35. We had a crew of six, most were experienced in strong winds. We were confident that we were prepared for these conditions. We had a great start and a lot of fun sailing to Dofflemeyer Point but the wind was building rapidly beyond predictions. The tops of the waves were blowing off, creating white foam all around us. As we turned east it was apparent that we needed to shorten sail further. We ducked into the lee of Squaxin Island to put in a second reef and switch to a storm jib. After the sail change, we decided to get back into the wind to see if we wanted to continue racing.
We re-entered Dana and it was immediately obvious that the wind was not letting up. The radio was busy with boats abandoning the race. Retreating boats were beating into a brutal chop which we knew would get worse as soon as the tide turned. We turned back inside Squaxin to consider our options. No one on board wanted to drop out but as captain I wanted to keep it fun for the crew especially for the one crew member only on his third sail.
I explained that in these conditions it might be better to abandon the race, to stay in one piece with no one hurt and no damage to the boat so that we could race another day. Could we have finished? Yes. Would there be injuries or damage to the boat? Maybe not, but was it worth the chance? We retired from the race and headed off to anchor.
Before I start any long distance race, I always gather weather information, review the tides, and have a “get out of jail free” plan, a place to duck into or a route that puts us out of harm’s way if need be. In this case, we ended up sailing to OYC’s Island Home. Most of the crew got a ride home. One crew member and I brought the boat back the next morning. We had to motor because there was no wind.
I look forward to the SSSS Island and Inlet Series each year. These races can see heavy winds which are good training for the bigger races like the South Sound Series, Smith Island, Swiftsure and Southern Straits. These races are PIYA Category II and III which Pandora is equipped to manage. We race because we like to, at times it is a challenge, but I believe it is up to each skipper and crew to determine whether they should go on or not.
The standard of care for sail boat racing is clear. We have the PIYA Category Requirements and The Racing Rules of Sailing which includes as a Fundamental Rule, Decision to Race, “the responsibility of whether or not a boat races must rest finally with the boat and her crew. The organizers cannot be blamed or held responsible for not abandoning a race because of bad weather.” We should abide by these and not put the burden on the Race Committee or the Sailing Society. It is up to the Captain and Crew of each vessel to decide when to fold’em.
Bob Connolly, Pandora
Ken got a graph of the wind from a weather station at Boston Harbor. It shows a wind speed of 15 to 20 kt for most of the race (see the graph, which is in mph) with gust speed of 35 kt. (one should expect gust speed to be 1.5 to 2 times wind speed, as it was). This is a Force 5 wind Beaufort, also called a Fresh Breeze. As it was measured down wind of a bluff, you would expect the wind in Budd Inlet to be ten to fifteen per cent higher, getting into the Force 6 range: a Strong Breeze, sometimes called a Yatchman’s Gale.
“Oh the stories we can tell, if it all blows up and goes to hell ... We do it for the stories we can tell.” J. Buffet.
And your friends at SSSS would like to hear yours. It is too dark this time of year to do much sailing. So this is a good time to write about it.
Eagle Island Race photos