It's a wild, wooley weekend here in Calgary. Last night it rained and it snowed and then rained again. I expected to wake to a white wonderland but fortunately, the snow didn't stay on the ground east of Scott Hill. The temperature hovered near zero and the trees swayed this way and that way in the wind.
This called for all the gear: full wetsuit with shorty wetsuit on top, neoprene socks, water shoes, polar fleeze, rain pants, water resistant windbreaker, windstopper gloves, toque, and of course the ever insulating life jacket.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Sail West 2006 Tied for First!
After the first day of the regatta, I'm tied for first place! Very exciting! With 25 Radials, this is the largest fleet I've ever raced in. The wind was exceedingly light and shifty today, resulting in several postponements. Several times, we began the start sequence only to have the AP flag go up with one minute to go. Collective groans.
Chestermere was a great place to be in May (although very cold) but now it is proving to be less than ideal for sailing. The big challenge for this regatta will be keeping the daggerboard and rudder free of weeds.
Chestermere was a great place to be in May (although very cold) but now it is proving to be less than ideal for sailing. The big challenge for this regatta will be keeping the daggerboard and rudder free of weeds.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
If you build it, they will come
Tonight a fleet of Radials appeared on the reservoir! Liz has a brand new sail and mast section and plans to come regularly. Two other guys may come again but one will go for the full rig next time.
The winds were light and most of the full rigs pulled ahead of us easily. Chris was trying out his new laser and was sometimes within reach of the radials. I was ahead of him for a good deal of the time, but I think he beat me to the finish line most of the time.
In the first race I had a decent start and was sailing well upwind. I lost a bit of ground at the windward mark (3) because I made a tactical error a couple of tacks before the mark which allowed Chris to get the inside. I rounded right beside him but he was a little shakey coming out of the turn and I had to wiggle suddenly to avoid hitting his transom.
The winds were light and most of the full rigs pulled ahead of us easily. Chris was trying out his new laser and was sometimes within reach of the radials. I was ahead of him for a good deal of the time, but I think he beat me to the finish line most of the time.
In the first race I had a decent start and was sailing well upwind. I lost a bit of ground at the windward mark (3) because I made a tactical error a couple of tacks before the mark which allowed Chris to get the inside. I rounded right beside him but he was a little shakey coming out of the turn and I had to wiggle suddenly to avoid hitting his transom.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Who invited this family?
It was youth and family night at the sailing club. I went down to check it out. They had the BBQ going and quite a lot of young kids around. One of the parents was taking a Byte out. Another Laser sailor dropped by indicating that he was joining the club and will be racing on Wednesday night. He has both rigs but will probably use the full rig in winds up to 25 km/hr. He hasn't done much Laser sailing before but has sailed many other boats. Hopefully this will give me an advantage in the race on Wednesday night. There wasn't any interest in taking Elvira out, so I went out on my own with Fionnlagh.
The wind was fairly steady and moderate so I decided on roll tacking practice. First, an unspoken race with the Byte was in order. We started near the barge on the same tack at about the same speed and headed for mark 3. Some of the time I was matching the Byte for speed and some of the time I was faster. I didn't really pull ahead until the wind picked up. I could have tightened the outhaul to keep the boat flat but I hiked out instead. I was really pushing it- trying to hike straight legged and needing to be all the way out to keep the boat flat. This effort gave me more speed than the Byte and I pulled ahead. I did a decent mark rounding- releasing the vang somewhat just before the turn. On the downwind leg the Byte started catching up to me. I altered the sail position a bit as it didn't seem that I was on a dead run and that didn't help. Then I changed course a bit, scooched forward and heeled the boat a bit. That worked and I pulled away from the Byte, passing the barge well ahead of him. I was up for another round, but it looked like he had to head back in to check on his kids in the Optis.
Probably just as well as I needed to really work on roll tacks. I headed back up the lake tacking frequently. In general, I find it difficult to heel the boat to windward. I don't think I'm heavy enough. Certainly there is some positioning to be learned as it is tricky to put all your weight to windward and not fall in. The other thing I'll have to watch out for is leveling the boat. At my weight, it is difficult to bring the boat level quickly enough to provide acceleration. I'm sure at some wind strengths I won't be able to right it at all. Over the half hour I did become more comfortable roll tacking. I wasn't always successfull in accelerating, but at least I didn't lose speed on the tacks. The other thing I need to figure out is how to get the tiller extension past the mainsheet without moving the rudder. Ideally, a roll tack can be executed without using the rudder at all.
I finished off the evening with some jibing practice. I was mostly successfull at jibing without getting the mainsheet caught on the transom. The winds were light, so it was relatively easy. I'll need to work on jibing in higher winds and then learn to roll jibe.
As the wind died, I realized that someone had invited the entire mosquito family to the lake. They began biting me every few minutes on the water. I was sorry I hadn't thought to bring bug spray after Wednesday's experience. I had to wait for another boat to pull out of the water before I could bring Fionnlagh ashore. It was like some one rang the dinner bell for the mosquitos. I had five biting me all at once. I pulled Fionnlagh out as quickly as I could. I thought I would derig really quickly to get away from the skeeters, but it was so bad that I ran to the car for a wind breaker to keep them off my arms. I didn't have anything to cover my legs below the knees but they didn't seem to be biting there as much.
I tried wearing knee pads tonight to prevent further bruising on my knees from bashing the boat. They weren't ideal knee pads as they are intended for rollerblading and have a hard cap. This makes for a slippery situation when kneeling on the dock or the deck. While on the water, they seemed to be quite effective. They do look ridiculous, but then so do the bruises on my knees!
The wind was fairly steady and moderate so I decided on roll tacking practice. First, an unspoken race with the Byte was in order. We started near the barge on the same tack at about the same speed and headed for mark 3. Some of the time I was matching the Byte for speed and some of the time I was faster. I didn't really pull ahead until the wind picked up. I could have tightened the outhaul to keep the boat flat but I hiked out instead. I was really pushing it- trying to hike straight legged and needing to be all the way out to keep the boat flat. This effort gave me more speed than the Byte and I pulled ahead. I did a decent mark rounding- releasing the vang somewhat just before the turn. On the downwind leg the Byte started catching up to me. I altered the sail position a bit as it didn't seem that I was on a dead run and that didn't help. Then I changed course a bit, scooched forward and heeled the boat a bit. That worked and I pulled away from the Byte, passing the barge well ahead of him. I was up for another round, but it looked like he had to head back in to check on his kids in the Optis.
Probably just as well as I needed to really work on roll tacks. I headed back up the lake tacking frequently. In general, I find it difficult to heel the boat to windward. I don't think I'm heavy enough. Certainly there is some positioning to be learned as it is tricky to put all your weight to windward and not fall in. The other thing I'll have to watch out for is leveling the boat. At my weight, it is difficult to bring the boat level quickly enough to provide acceleration. I'm sure at some wind strengths I won't be able to right it at all. Over the half hour I did become more comfortable roll tacking. I wasn't always successfull in accelerating, but at least I didn't lose speed on the tacks. The other thing I need to figure out is how to get the tiller extension past the mainsheet without moving the rudder. Ideally, a roll tack can be executed without using the rudder at all.
I finished off the evening with some jibing practice. I was mostly successfull at jibing without getting the mainsheet caught on the transom. The winds were light, so it was relatively easy. I'll need to work on jibing in higher winds and then learn to roll jibe.
As the wind died, I realized that someone had invited the entire mosquito family to the lake. They began biting me every few minutes on the water. I was sorry I hadn't thought to bring bug spray after Wednesday's experience. I had to wait for another boat to pull out of the water before I could bring Fionnlagh ashore. It was like some one rang the dinner bell for the mosquitos. I had five biting me all at once. I pulled Fionnlagh out as quickly as I could. I thought I would derig really quickly to get away from the skeeters, but it was so bad that I ran to the car for a wind breaker to keep them off my arms. I didn't have anything to cover my legs below the knees but they didn't seem to be biting there as much.
I tried wearing knee pads tonight to prevent further bruising on my knees from bashing the boat. They weren't ideal knee pads as they are intended for rollerblading and have a hard cap. This makes for a slippery situation when kneeling on the dock or the deck. While on the water, they seemed to be quite effective. They do look ridiculous, but then so do the bruises on my knees!
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Pirates on the West Nile?
Fionnlagh's third go at Wednesday night racing. Scorching hot today so no wet suit required. I was late getting there and consequently about a minute late for the start. Kevin Brown helped me get Fionnlagh off the dolly and we both beach started at about the same time. He was sailing full rig and passed me before we reached the first mark. After that, the first race was mostly a write off. I got mixed up with the San Juan fleet and those big guys steal a lot of wind. There wasn't much wind to go around tonight so I skipped the last two marks and headed for the start line for the second race.
I got a decent, but not great start on the second race.
The third race was probably one of my best races yet in terms of relative boat speed. I made two strategic errors that put me back in my usual position. At the start, the port end of the line was highly favoured as the wind had shifted since the line was set and it was closer to mark 1. We were all working to that end of the line. To make things more interesting, the wind was picking up as we were counting down to start so our estimates of when we would arrive at the pin end of the start line were a little skewed. There were two lasers sailing along the line on starboard tack, hoping to head up and cross as the horn went off. I tacked in just below them on starboard tack. The last time I looked at my watch there were 8 seconds to go. I was figuring that the two boats above me would head up over the line and I would head up immediately after, just inside the pin. Unfortunately, the boat above me reached the pin just before the horn. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to force him over the line early, so I didn't call it. Instead, I forced him past the pin, preventing him from jibing immediately. Then I jibed and headed up over the line ahead of him. As I confirmed at the clubhouse later, I did have the right to push him over early and should have called "UP" to indicate that I wanted to head up. This would have been a significant advantage for me as he would be over early and have to restart. I'm not really sure if there would have been time or room for me to cross before the pin anyway, but if I'd known the rules, I could have pushed him over sooner. There were a few boats that were messed up in this start. Someone was recalled, someone else was prevented from heading up. The result was that Kevin, Chuck, and I were behind the others and I was ahead of Kevin and Chuck. I maintained my lead rounding mark 1. I was doing a bit better with the roll tacks. On the downwind leg, I was really worried they would catch me as they both had the full rig. I squished forward in the boat and saw that Bill was healing his boat to windward. I did the same to reduce the waterline and get the sail higher up. It seemed to work. As we approached mark 4, I was still ahead but faced with a new challenge. The San Juans were reaching towards the same mark for their race. I'm still working on how to jibe and sheet in quickly on a mark rounding so adding figuring out right of way with the biggest boats on the reservoir made me very jumpy. I managed to navigate through and sheet in quite quickly using two hands (just wave the tiller extension up and down while sheeting with alternating hands). The trouble was a big San Juan was in front of me, just upwind stealing my air. When I looked back, it seemed the other two were catching up to me.
I got a decent, but not great start on the second race.
The third race was probably one of my best races yet in terms of relative boat speed. I made two strategic errors that put me back in my usual position. At the start, the port end of the line was highly favoured as the wind had shifted since the line was set and it was closer to mark 1. We were all working to that end of the line. To make things more interesting, the wind was picking up as we were counting down to start so our estimates of when we would arrive at the pin end of the start line were a little skewed. There were two lasers sailing along the line on starboard tack, hoping to head up and cross as the horn went off. I tacked in just below them on starboard tack. The last time I looked at my watch there were 8 seconds to go. I was figuring that the two boats above me would head up over the line and I would head up immediately after, just inside the pin. Unfortunately, the boat above me reached the pin just before the horn. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to force him over the line early, so I didn't call it. Instead, I forced him past the pin, preventing him from jibing immediately. Then I jibed and headed up over the line ahead of him. As I confirmed at the clubhouse later, I did have the right to push him over early and should have called "UP" to indicate that I wanted to head up. This would have been a significant advantage for me as he would be over early and have to restart. I'm not really sure if there would have been time or room for me to cross before the pin anyway, but if I'd known the rules, I could have pushed him over sooner. There were a few boats that were messed up in this start. Someone was recalled, someone else was prevented from heading up. The result was that Kevin, Chuck, and I were behind the others and I was ahead of Kevin and Chuck. I maintained my lead rounding mark 1. I was doing a bit better with the roll tacks. On the downwind leg, I was really worried they would catch me as they both had the full rig. I squished forward in the boat and saw that Bill was healing his boat to windward. I did the same to reduce the waterline and get the sail higher up. It seemed to work. As we approached mark 4, I was still ahead but faced with a new challenge. The San Juans were reaching towards the same mark for their race. I'm still working on how to jibe and sheet in quickly on a mark rounding so adding figuring out right of way with the biggest boats on the reservoir made me very jumpy. I managed to navigate through and sheet in quite quickly using two hands (just wave the tiller extension up and down while sheeting with alternating hands). The trouble was a big San Juan was in front of me, just upwind stealing my air. When I looked back, it seemed the other two were catching up to me.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Wednesday Night Racing - Part 2
There is very little wind when I arrive at the reservoir. There are storm clouds to the north and that makes me nervous about going out. Was that thunder or someone moving a boat? I don't see any lightning but hte lack of wind is just the calm before the storm. Even though Logan Campbell's accident was a power line, not lightning, it makes me keenly aware that electricity and masts can change your life in an instant.
Most of the others are on their way to the starting barge already. Eight minutes until the Fireball warning. I push off, concerned that I won't get there on time for the Laser start. Also concerned that I won't be able to get back in fast enough if I see lightning. There is so little wind that I can't tell whether to run or beat. My cheering section hasn't arrived yet. I look to the shore for a sign of the wind direction but the boat patrol flag is limp.
Most of the others are on their way to the starting barge already. Eight minutes until the Fireball warning. I push off, concerned that I won't get there on time for the Laser start. Also concerned that I won't be able to get back in fast enough if I see lightning. There is so little wind that I can't tell whether to run or beat. My cheering section hasn't arrived yet. I look to the shore for a sign of the wind direction but the boat patrol flag is limp.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Driftwood Regatta - Day 2
The day begins at 05:45. Yes, I know the race doesn't start until 09:30 and it doesn't take me THAT long to get rigged but I have no choice in this matter. My knees hurt. My fingers hurt. Something aches every time I move. The last thing I feel like doing today is sailing. But sail I must. Clearly sleeping all day isn't going to be any fun.
Based on the standings yesterday, I only need to beat Michael Leitch in 4 races today to not be last. I beat him twice yesterday. I beat him once because he capsized before the start and couldn't get his international canoe up again. The second time I beat him, he was actually in the race. To the uneducated observer, it would appear that he beat me; however, in X-class, times are corrected based on a handicapp system to account for the expected performance of the different boats in the wind conditions for that race.
The forecast is for winds at 20 km/h, dropping in the afternoon. It sounds so innocent. Some might imagine a steady wind from the west at the ideal velocity. Translate that forecast to Glenmore Reservoir and you have winds anywhere between zero and thirty kilometers per hour with persistently inconsistent shifts, mostly from the W-NW with the exception of certain spots on the lake where the wind will come from the E-SE. In fact, the winds on Glenmore are so fickle that they actually stop for an early lunch on sunny days and by the time the sailors have paddled in to the dock for their lunch, the winds are on the way back out.
I was hoping for lighter winds than forecast and it seemed to be picking up as we waited for the other classes to start. I got off an okay start this time, sailing slowly along the line and then heading up seconds before the gun. Of course, this meant that I wasn't quite at max speed over the line and I ended up leeward of the others. The wind was dropping. I sat with most of my weight forward of the cockpit, eased the main to gain some power, kept a bit of vang on to bend the mast, made sure the cunningham was off, and eased the outhaul (but not too much). I kept to the middle of the lake where the wind was usually strongest. I was losing ground on the tacks as the other radials were roll-tacking smoothly and I was making clumsy attempts at it. I gained some ground after rounding the windward mark. After rounding number 6 I set a wide course for the windward mark, noting that it was in the wind shadow of the shore and a sharp turn could stop me dead. I gained on the others approaching the mark as they lost speed before rounding. The wind was shifting and dying.
Race Results (Regattas 2006, Driftwood, X-Class)
Regatta Photos
More Regatta Photos
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Driftwood Regatta
One of my competitors, Luke, said the water was so muddy it was like sailing in Nestle Quik. I had to clear logs off the boat ramp to get started this morning and there was a lot of debris in the water from the recent downpours. Only 3 Radials registered for the race so they put us in X-class racing with a Byte, a Taser, and an International Canoe.
I got off to a bad start in the first race, crossing the start line just after everyone else.
Regatta Photos (Saturday)
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Coaching Night on Glenmore
There are a lot of things to get good at when it comes to sailing a Laser. For me, the first step is getting to the reservoir on time. Tonight I managed this for the first time this season. I left work at the right time. I biked home in a record 30 minutes. I made a sandwich, changed, gathered my gear, and was in the car within ten minutes. I made it to the reservoir by 6pm.
Practice officially starts at 6:30pm. Had I begun rigging right away, I would have been on the water on time. I wanted to ask Peter to show me how he recommends handling the tiller on a tack before he went out on the water so I jogged over to ask him.
He explained: Sitting on starboard side, mainsheet in right hand, tiller in the left. Push the tiller away to slowly begin the tack. Wait for the sail to come over and switch to port side as the sail catches the wind. Keep the main in tight, don't switch hands on the tiller- keep it behind my back. For practice, steer that way for a while. Then switch hands. Sounds simple. But he also said my tiller extension is probably about six inches too long for me. I should not do anything about that until I spend more time sailing fully hiked out and get a feel for how long I really want it.
Lesson over, I rigged the boat in a record 25 minutes, hampered by increasing wind. It's painfully difficult to tie a bowline in your outhaul while the wind is putting tension on it. Ditto for the cunningham. It didn't help that I kept screwing up the rabbit hole and missing the knot. Weird. Last summer I could do that knot with my eyes closed. I need to go to Glenmore Sailboats and get some clips so that I don't have to go through all this knot tieing every time. Not that I won't practice the knots, it's more that I want to save some time rigging. The wind was onshore so I led Fionnlagh down the ramp bow first. This meant that I was guaranteed to get my feet wet and muddy as I tied him to the dock.
I was much quicker than usual getting the rudder on and the daggerboard in. I was very happy with my graceful departure. Tiller extension pulled all the way forward, mainsheet in hand I untied the painter, placed it under the cunningham and outhaul lines, pushed the bow off slightly, grabbed the tiller extension, and I was off. Granted, the main was not trimmed but that turned out to be a good thing. The wind was picking up and white caps were starting to form. I yanked on the vang, then the outhaul and the cunningham. I looked at the sail and then really pulled on the outhaul. I wanted that sail as flat as could be. I didn't go too tight on the vang as I could see I would be overpowered and letting the main out instead of trying to sail block to block. Having the vang on super tight would only ensure that I get a solid whack to the head with the boom when tacking.
The other 3 were zipping around the sailing school dock close to Mark 5. I headed straight out to join them. Letting the main out I could keep the boat flat, hiking out all the way for the gusts. I was moving incredibly fast with spray coming over the bow. It felt sweet and frightening all at once.
Then a really big gust hit. I let out the main a bit and then steered up to try to keep the boom out of the water. I'm not sure quite what pushed me past the point of no return but I found myself falling. I don't really remember exactly what happened. I remember looking down and thinking my feet were going to land on the sail and the boom. Maybe they did but I don't think I went in the water at this point. Somehow I managed to climb over the top and grab the daggerboard and pull it back down before it fell out. In hindsight it may have been smarter to swim around. By climbing over the top, I pulled the high side over too far so that I was in danger of turtling. The wind may have done this anyway. The dagger board was too high up for me to stand on it now so I lowered myself down and stood on the lower gunwale and pulled on the daggerboard. Fionnlagh didn't move much at all except he slowly began pointing to windward. I suspected the mast was stuck in the mud. The water level is still extremely low and I was quite near the spot where the SJ21 stuck in the bottom last Wednesday.
I was starting to feel desparate- really hanging out far from the daggerboard- when Fionnlagh finally started to come up. I wasn't able to climb up on the daggerboard as he came up so I had to drop into the water. I had a brief moment of worry that Fionnlagh would sail off without me. Fortunately, the mainsheet was all the way out and Fionnlagh's bow was to the wind. I always find it difficult to climb back in. It helps that Laser decks are much closer to the water than most. On the first pull my lifejacket caught on the gunwale. More carefull on the second pull, I got the jacket over the edge, grabbed the hiking strap, and pulled, kicked, and wriggled my way back in. Good thing Bill told me to tie the tail of the mainsheet to the hiking strap. That was all that was holding it in the boat. I grabbed the tiller extension and began sheeting in. As Peter came round in the coach boat I began picking up speed. The mud at the top of the mast confirmed my suspicions.
Peter calls out some position adjustments- I can sit further back now. Spill the wind from the sail to keep the boat flat so that I'm not fully hiked out when the gusts hit. I'm feeling not too badly about how things are going. But ahead of me all I can see are the other 3 Lasers. They appear to be mooning me in turn with their big white bottoms (the boats, not the sailors, the sailors are either climbing or swimming). I know I will have to tack, and I really don't feel like it. Peter tells me to head for the orange ball in the water and go around it. I quickly forget about the ball because I stall on the tack. I sheet in, nearly capsize, get going, and try the tack again. I think I inadvertently passed the orange ball on the correct side. Peter is then telling me to run. I ease the main and begin bearing off and it's like I kicked a horse. Instant speed. The boat begins to rock from side to side. I look at the daggerboard: it is already all the way down. I'm still on a reach and want to run. If I ease the main, the boom will dip in the water. If it dips too much I could go into a death roll. When the gusts hit and the boat heels I hike out fully and it's not enough. I wrestle with the tiller extension and head up a bit. I want to ease the boom vang to get the boom higher above the water but I would need a third arm. Hanging on to the tiller and sheet and shifting my weight for gusts is all I can handle. I play this wobbly game for a while- head up, ease the sheet, head down until the boom is almost in the water, head up. Eventually after wiggling over a lot of water I'm close to a run. I'm also closing in on Swirly Winds point.
Peter advises that I don't try to jibe in these conditions. No kidding. I get my main sheet stuck on the transom every time. I'm not sure if Peter noticed that I avoided jibing for the entire icebreaker regatta, facilitated by the fact that the windward mark was always a gate. I feel so unskilled in this boat. I have no trouble jibing a Bavaria 32 or a Commodore 15. So it's back to the wrestling match. I have to head up and sheet in to tack (aka chicken jibe). I make it around. After skimming quickly over a lot of water on a reach I'm close to the others again. On a port tack. I'm not feeling confident about my ability to avoid them, especially given that they might capsize at any moment. (It seems there is always someone in the water tonight). With a few out of control wiggles, I make it through the traffic.
I am scared out of my mind. After going through the traffic, I understand that I am not in control out here. I'm just surviving. The wind is picking up. Practicing starts sounds dangerous for me. I head into the bay where there is a teeny bit less wind. My arms are starting to get tired and I doubt that I could pull myself back into the boat if I capsized again. I head for the dock- choosing the plastic one over the wooden one as it is less likely to do damage in these winds. As I approach the wind picks up. I head back out to the edge of the bay. To be honest, I'm now afraid to dock. It takes practice to learn how quickly the boat slows down when head to wind. I reach back and forth in the bay for a while. The wind seems to be picking up more. My arms are tired, I'm scared. I'm not practicing with the others, I'm just surviving. There is no reason to be out here. I head into the dock.
Practice officially starts at 6:30pm. Had I begun rigging right away, I would have been on the water on time. I wanted to ask Peter to show me how he recommends handling the tiller on a tack before he went out on the water so I jogged over to ask him.
He explained: Sitting on starboard side, mainsheet in right hand, tiller in the left. Push the tiller away to slowly begin the tack. Wait for the sail to come over and switch to port side as the sail catches the wind. Keep the main in tight, don't switch hands on the tiller- keep it behind my back. For practice, steer that way for a while. Then switch hands. Sounds simple. But he also said my tiller extension is probably about six inches too long for me. I should not do anything about that until I spend more time sailing fully hiked out and get a feel for how long I really want it.
Lesson over, I rigged the boat in a record 25 minutes, hampered by increasing wind. It's painfully difficult to tie a bowline in your outhaul while the wind is putting tension on it. Ditto for the cunningham. It didn't help that I kept screwing up the rabbit hole and missing the knot. Weird. Last summer I could do that knot with my eyes closed. I need to go to Glenmore Sailboats and get some clips so that I don't have to go through all this knot tieing every time. Not that I won't practice the knots, it's more that I want to save some time rigging. The wind was onshore so I led Fionnlagh down the ramp bow first. This meant that I was guaranteed to get my feet wet and muddy as I tied him to the dock.
I was much quicker than usual getting the rudder on and the daggerboard in. I was very happy with my graceful departure. Tiller extension pulled all the way forward, mainsheet in hand I untied the painter, placed it under the cunningham and outhaul lines, pushed the bow off slightly, grabbed the tiller extension, and I was off. Granted, the main was not trimmed but that turned out to be a good thing. The wind was picking up and white caps were starting to form. I yanked on the vang, then the outhaul and the cunningham. I looked at the sail and then really pulled on the outhaul. I wanted that sail as flat as could be. I didn't go too tight on the vang as I could see I would be overpowered and letting the main out instead of trying to sail block to block. Having the vang on super tight would only ensure that I get a solid whack to the head with the boom when tacking.
The other 3 were zipping around the sailing school dock close to Mark 5. I headed straight out to join them. Letting the main out I could keep the boat flat, hiking out all the way for the gusts. I was moving incredibly fast with spray coming over the bow. It felt sweet and frightening all at once.
Then a really big gust hit. I let out the main a bit and then steered up to try to keep the boom out of the water. I'm not sure quite what pushed me past the point of no return but I found myself falling. I don't really remember exactly what happened. I remember looking down and thinking my feet were going to land on the sail and the boom. Maybe they did but I don't think I went in the water at this point. Somehow I managed to climb over the top and grab the daggerboard and pull it back down before it fell out. In hindsight it may have been smarter to swim around. By climbing over the top, I pulled the high side over too far so that I was in danger of turtling. The wind may have done this anyway. The dagger board was too high up for me to stand on it now so I lowered myself down and stood on the lower gunwale and pulled on the daggerboard. Fionnlagh didn't move much at all except he slowly began pointing to windward. I suspected the mast was stuck in the mud. The water level is still extremely low and I was quite near the spot where the SJ21 stuck in the bottom last Wednesday.
I was starting to feel desparate- really hanging out far from the daggerboard- when Fionnlagh finally started to come up. I wasn't able to climb up on the daggerboard as he came up so I had to drop into the water. I had a brief moment of worry that Fionnlagh would sail off without me. Fortunately, the mainsheet was all the way out and Fionnlagh's bow was to the wind. I always find it difficult to climb back in. It helps that Laser decks are much closer to the water than most. On the first pull my lifejacket caught on the gunwale. More carefull on the second pull, I got the jacket over the edge, grabbed the hiking strap, and pulled, kicked, and wriggled my way back in. Good thing Bill told me to tie the tail of the mainsheet to the hiking strap. That was all that was holding it in the boat. I grabbed the tiller extension and began sheeting in. As Peter came round in the coach boat I began picking up speed. The mud at the top of the mast confirmed my suspicions.
Peter calls out some position adjustments- I can sit further back now. Spill the wind from the sail to keep the boat flat so that I'm not fully hiked out when the gusts hit. I'm feeling not too badly about how things are going. But ahead of me all I can see are the other 3 Lasers. They appear to be mooning me in turn with their big white bottoms (the boats, not the sailors, the sailors are either climbing or swimming). I know I will have to tack, and I really don't feel like it. Peter tells me to head for the orange ball in the water and go around it. I quickly forget about the ball because I stall on the tack. I sheet in, nearly capsize, get going, and try the tack again. I think I inadvertently passed the orange ball on the correct side. Peter is then telling me to run. I ease the main and begin bearing off and it's like I kicked a horse. Instant speed. The boat begins to rock from side to side. I look at the daggerboard: it is already all the way down. I'm still on a reach and want to run. If I ease the main, the boom will dip in the water. If it dips too much I could go into a death roll. When the gusts hit and the boat heels I hike out fully and it's not enough. I wrestle with the tiller extension and head up a bit. I want to ease the boom vang to get the boom higher above the water but I would need a third arm. Hanging on to the tiller and sheet and shifting my weight for gusts is all I can handle. I play this wobbly game for a while- head up, ease the sheet, head down until the boom is almost in the water, head up. Eventually after wiggling over a lot of water I'm close to a run. I'm also closing in on Swirly Winds point.
Peter advises that I don't try to jibe in these conditions. No kidding. I get my main sheet stuck on the transom every time. I'm not sure if Peter noticed that I avoided jibing for the entire icebreaker regatta, facilitated by the fact that the windward mark was always a gate. I feel so unskilled in this boat. I have no trouble jibing a Bavaria 32 or a Commodore 15. So it's back to the wrestling match. I have to head up and sheet in to tack (aka chicken jibe). I make it around. After skimming quickly over a lot of water on a reach I'm close to the others again. On a port tack. I'm not feeling confident about my ability to avoid them, especially given that they might capsize at any moment. (It seems there is always someone in the water tonight). With a few out of control wiggles, I make it through the traffic.
I am scared out of my mind. After going through the traffic, I understand that I am not in control out here. I'm just surviving. The wind is picking up. Practicing starts sounds dangerous for me. I head into the bay where there is a teeny bit less wind. My arms are starting to get tired and I doubt that I could pull myself back into the boat if I capsized again. I head for the dock- choosing the plastic one over the wooden one as it is less likely to do damage in these winds. As I approach the wind picks up. I head back out to the edge of the bay. To be honest, I'm now afraid to dock. It takes practice to learn how quickly the boat slows down when head to wind. I reach back and forth in the bay for a while. The wind seems to be picking up more. My arms are tired, I'm scared. I'm not practicing with the others, I'm just surviving. There is no reason to be out here. I head into the dock.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Saturday, May 27, 2006 Icebreaker Regatta
Fionnlagh's first race, first regatta, first time at Chestermere. Although Kate has done all of these things before, it was in a stable Martin 16 or Commodore 15, not a tippy Laser.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Fionnlagh's First Sail
Yesterday John helped me carry Fionnlagh out of the basement, onto the car, and then off the car into the rack at the reservoir. It was extremely windy and gusty and as it is only May, the water is still freezing cold. The idea of taking a brand new boat out in conditions like that was frightening. There's always a chance that something will break or I will rig something wrong and it's safer to test those things in more moderate wind conditions. So we went to the playground with Kaiden while Lisa took care of Cassie. The wind died down later in the afternoon but I didn't have time to go out and still make it to the theatre in the evening.
Today is clubhouse cleanup day. Knowing that the wind is often lighter in the morning, I decided to take Fionnlagh out before helping with the cleanup. Rigging for the first time took longer than expected.
Today is clubhouse cleanup day. Knowing that the wind is often lighter in the morning, I decided to take Fionnlagh out before helping with the cleanup. Rigging for the first time took longer than expected.
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