Race 5 - The Transas Nautic Cowes to St.Vaast Race

Report from Whistler

Chastened by our retirement from the Nab Race, we prepared ourselves for St Vaast with a will; the skipper even took a day off work to learn the arcane mysteries of the magic black box that sits emitting light, draining power and frequently crashing in the navigation station!

Despite the best attempts of the armies of trolls who inhabit the vast, coned-off sprawl of England's motorways, the crew turned up within minutes of the appointed departure time; luckily our noble skipper had once again sacrificed some of his meagre annual leave allowance to ensure all was ready (or more accurately delegated all the work elsewhere).

We motored up the Solent in depressing weather with the skipper trying to decipher the various, conflicting weather forecasts and get a plan together… but spirits soared as we approached Cowes to be informed that not only were the rest of the crew (and provisions) waiting but that a fish and chip supper was awaiting us on the pontoon - top stuff and an excellent start to the evening!

Opting for the No:1 we had an averagely average (not overly surprising as this was the skipper's first start on helm for quite a while!) start but were moving nicely along with Tai-Pan and later Electron in company. You all know what happened as we approached the forts but we scraped past in the fluttering and dying breeze, although the skipper has a few more grey hairs! We also saw the lady in the window - perhaps next time the Race Committee could import a couple of ladies from Amsterdam and a red light just to liven it up a bit!

It is dispiriting to flap around when you still have 75 miles to go but we stuck at it, trying to keep Tai-Pan behind us. Electron and some others seemed to be going in towards the Island in hope of wind or avoiding the tide; we considered this but felt that at some time everyone would have to come out again, so stayed put - a good choice as it turned out! The wind filled a touch and we coasted towards Bembridge Ledge, which was getting busier as everyone converged. It could have become a little tense but then a miracle occurred and a gap opened in front of us which we ghosted through leaving the shouting and flapping behind - obviously the skipper's recent abstinence from pleasures of the flesh has paid off…

A little later we decided to try holding a kite which boosted speed but was dropping us down below the fleet and the rhumb line, so we decided to go back to the genoa after half an hour or so. It was at this time that our luck reversed… somehow Matt (the Muppet) bowman had contrived yet another of his wondrous, unsolvable puzzles using nothing more than the genoa and starboard spinnaker halyards and the forestay. Vital time was lost as we went bare headed to get things straight again. Spirits were dented and in the poor visibility with no one around it was easy to fear that we were well off the pace (again!) During the night we went back to the light kite as the wind backed and we went past a couple of boats (who spotted that we had it up, hoisted theirs and eventually came back past us…

We stayed pretty much on the rhumb line until well over half way across and then started to climb above it in anticipation of the most likely of the forecasts.

As the daylight grew spirits raised for two reasons - we could make out shapes of other competitors and we discovered that we had a new, secret weapon in our armoury - "Auto-Les" the tireless, Aussie who can helm all night and half the day fuelled on coffee and biscuits. We are thinking of cloning him (it worked on a sheep which we have heard is genetically quite similar to an Aussie …)

We were playing a game of trying to work out who was who from their kites as the wind strengthened. We peeled to the medium kite then as it veered and built went back to the No:1; it kept building and with the skipper back on the helm it got interesting! We considered the No:2 but by the time we had finished considering the wind had eased.

We had been tacking toward the shore in the wind and now had a nice line down the coast with, praise be, both Electron and Ocean Cavalier inside us - even better the various bits of electrical wizardry still offered a finish time that would see us inside the lock for a full day of carousing!

Once again the weather gods would use us as their playthings…

The three boat race continued in a dying and changing wind; it was difficult working out relative positions but we were determined to hang in there, particularly as Ocean Cavalier had beaten us by just over a minute on the drift race back from Cherbourg - could this be revenge?

Our decision to go inshore (as reported by others) was more of a desire for a change of scenery - well, being honest we had worked out that we could get a slight angle toward the line and would at least be moving because we would be going across the tide not straight into it and we would have to go that way at some time so it would keep spirits up at least! As we neared the line in a fickle wind Electron were slipping back but Ocean Cavalier followed us in hoisting their kite and were gaining. The skipper was using all his trimming and motivation skills with cries of "they are catching up, make us go faster". With a lot more activity than is usual on Whistler after 18 hours we kept climbing for speed and dropping off for the line to keep the pursuing and looming Ocean Cavalier at bay… it worked… just… was it 9 seconds over 18 hours?

We dropped the hook, had a beer, did some maths on who we could see and had a kip… woke up to see a lot more people had arrived during the afternoon… lock opened… wine flowed… beer was drunk… had another kip… woke up… motored home.

Great weekend!

Report from J Fever

The Omens were not good. We found ourselves in Tesco at midday. Tesco had decided to re-arrange their stacking and we joined hoards of lost souls. Skipper decided we needed MORE biscuits. Skipperess felt fraught and had thoughts of acquiring a dog, a cat, and retiring to a quiet life in the country. We eventually got on board J-Fever with all the ingredients for the pasta bake except the pasta. Then the skipper decided that we had too much weight on board and landed two tins of corned beef. Well, the dog would enjoy those.

The crew all made it on board before the deadline, and we motored down the Hamble in a pleasant evening. Not much sign of heavy wind, and warmer than last weekend.

We watched Bounty Hunter make a superb start, we were not quite on the line as we had hoped. Stood out on the wind for the last of the tide, and then back towards the Island as we judged that it was turning. We shipped a master mariner for this race, and when he suggested that less than a meter of depth on Ryde sands was made him feel uncomfortable, we took his advice and tacked in haste. Spooked, we stood out into the tide and fell further down the fleet. So we stood in and lost more ground. We crept past the Fort in a very light wind, getting a lucky freeing puff, and set off for Bembridge on a fetch. We ate the pasta bake, now including pasta, and puzzled about the lights ahead, which appeared to be beating out to Bembridge. The wind was light but seemed steady. Set the course for the rumb line and the reaching spinnaker.

The fleet appeared to be to windward. The navigators conferred. The course remained. The fleet dissolved into the night. Trimming the spinnaker in the small hours and variable wind strength, there was not a light to be seen, apart from a loan bulk carrier. Thoughts returned of dog, cat and a life in the country. We heard the channel buoy clearly, passed just 2 miles from it. Time for a quiet reassessment of the nav. Decided to harden up 5 degrees. Just before waking the skipper for his watch we noticed three lights on the quarter, one on a much more windward course. Lots of boats cross the channel on a bank holiday and there was no knowing whether these were JOG fleet or not.

Visibility was not good but in due course Kerisma appeared from the murk to leeward and then Independent Bear crossing ahead on starboard gybe. She gybed ahead. The wind went lighter and freer which did not suit the J120 and both pulled away with Exabyte closing from astern. Up went the pink downwind kite. The gap from Exabyte varied as the wind changed in strength and direction. The 0530 forecast mentioned SE, a header would be just the job!

We scoured ahead for the south cardinals, navigator glued to the electronic chart. No one mentioned Snowdon (Weren't we good?). The wind drew forward and the gap astern opened, we crossed the line still able to carry the kite (just); bearing away to down the kite seemed to have little effect as the wind continued to come ahead.

In time for the lock we motored in and discovered that the marina was not full of JOG fleet. What had happened? We enjoyed a lovely day in St. Vaast, and on Sunday the skipper decided to celebrate by seeing just how much wine he could stow aboard.

On the return trip thick fog for a couple of hours and we had a passenger - Woodpigeon, with no ring. Martin thought it should have its neck wrung, and contemplated recipes. When it sat on the Windex and turned, he definitely thought it would be better turning on a spit. Our passenger left after we had passed Hurst, leaving calling cards behind. Martin - you had reason.

Report from Draig O'R Mor (Class 4)

Tim (the younger), Tim (the elder), Don and myself all took Friday as leave to complete jobs that were outstanding on the boat. One of the jobs was to replace the spectacles that had broken in the NAB tower race (the slop caused it, not excessive wind). Tim spent ¾ hr up the mast in the pouring rain sorting the job out. Once we had let him return to the deck Tim was less than enthusiastic about the prospect of a cold wet race to StVaast, lucky for us the power of a few pints in the Master Builder put him in a better frame of mind and more inclined (leave it at that).

Once the full compliment had joined us we set sail for the start line (still damp). Our start was not one of our better ones X ploiter doing what we discussed and getting a good clean start with Arbitrator charging off with them. It took us a while to settle into a rhythm that seemed to get Draig O'R Mor sailing to her polars, during this time Torbellino and a few other boats managed to sail over us. Once we got to the Forts we finally found our pace and started the slog up to Bembridge, like a number of our fellow competitors we found ourselves being headed and had to tack our way in the building tide trying to round Bembridge Buoy. Once round Bembridge the wind started to fill slowly allowing us to retrieve some of the ground that we had lost to those who rounded the mark earlier. During the night we played catch the next set of lights, our two watches competing for the best number of lights passed (it never reaches a high number and we never count those who pass us).
Fortunately we made St Vaast in time for the lock gates and were able to have one of Tim (the elder)'s fine cooked breakfasts, before heading on out to M.Gosselin for a few cases of wine and some fine food (Inc Fish Soup).
We enjoyed the drinks party (thank you) and plenty of good chat, followed by a fine meal at Chasse Marie.

The Motor and eventual sail back is worth a mention in that we had a stow away Finch hitch a lift from mid channel to 5m off the Isle of Wight and the soup that I had bought needed watering down giving 6 of us the challenge of eating 2.5L of soup, which we managed. However, the resulting smell as it went through the system was unnatural and it has now been banned under the Geneva convention (or from Draigy).

Report from Ocean Cavalier (Class 4)

When Ocean Cavalier left her mooring in Portsmouth Harbour the question everyone was asking was "What is the wind forecast". Some came armed with that information but no two agreed, so over to you skipper? Well those who have sailed with me before know the stock answer "Yes, there will be weather". The only thing that all the forecasts agreed on was the wind, if there was to be any, was to be from the North or North East. The immediate forecast was for 5 knots from the North; it was blowing 15 knots from the NNE.

The race got off to a bad start when the skipper decided to tack and jibe a minute before the start instead of going for the line, Ocean Cavalier was last across the line. A short tack was needed to clear Snowdon and then a close fetch up to the forts. As we approached No Mans Land Fort we eased sheets to go for more speed, it was another mistake, the wind headed us and like most of the fleet we had to tack to clear the fort. It was slow going towards Bembridge ledge where we yet again sailed into a header and had to make a short tack to clear the buoy.

Our tactic in this race was to stick to the most direct line in the hope the wind would free us, but we did expect the wind to drop in line with most forecasts. All night we made steady progress in the hope we would get in before the lock gate at St Vaast closed. Just after dawn the visibility improved and we had company including Electron and Whistler. The wind now shifted again and we had a beat towards Barfleur. It was now time for breakfast and so cooks to the galley was called and the preparation was started. A rain squall was seen passing astern and the wind quickly increased, initially a reef was put in but more drastic action was needed and the No. 3 went up. By the time the sail was set the wind had dropped and the process had to be reversed. The crew have had little practice at these manoeuvres and they took longer than we would have liked but practice makes perfect. We all agreed we need some more practice, badly. It was not until the sail changes were completed could we eat, a hungry crew is not a happy crew and having fed we all felt better for what we expected to be a bit of a battle and make up time. We were not to be disappointed.

Beating past Barfleur against the current was a long and difficult process with different yachts gaining and losing as they went. Then the wind changed again and the spinnaker went up for a run to the line. Whistler had earlier gone inshore and with this wind shift gained a lot as she had a better wind angle while Electron and ourselves remained in close company a mile or two out. Over the next few hours all our courses converged and while Electron was slowly left astern we were more concerned with catching Whistler, slowly we made progress but we missed out by 15 second on the line. Fifteen seconds between two yachts of different design but identical rating makes for close racing at the best of times, this seems to be the way ahead.

Report from Electron (Class 4)

Not written up in the last race report (Nab Tower) was the fact that our Skipper had a bit of a funny turn during the race. No, he hadn't decided to "bat for the other team" - he was ill! (Yes we know he's sick, but this stopped him sailing!!!!) It turned out to be an infection which rather embarrassingly grew into the size of a tennis ball and the reason why Electron raced to St Vaast with a seventh crew member, enterprisingly named by the crew as Leonard - as in Leonard the lump, the armpit alien.…..and thus started a jolly outing across the briny.

At the start Skip, of "I'm not on form today" fame called for the number two which was exactly the wrong sail! As Electron struggled to keep up with the fleet the sail was changed up to the number one. Gradually easing past Whistler (for the first of several times) the Forts grew nearer. Skip was intent on catching the fleet after a bad start and as boats tacked out to miss No Mans Land Fort he called for the crew to "stand on". A variety of notable responses by the crew need to be recorded at this time as they clearly indicated their state of mind……

Pandie: "you sure, it don't half look close"
Andy: "I reckon I will be able to scratch my name in that"
Paul (the retired surfer dude): "wow look, you can see a woman doing her washing up"
Rowland: "Ask her for a cuppa"
Skip: "Bloody hell that was close, didn't think we were going to make it"

In fact, Electron ghosted past with so little room to spare the crew were getting ready to fend off. Looking back Skip muttered: "I hate that bloody fort" Xara, who was behind Electron didn't make it. They had to tack out and lost a lot of distance in the process.

As Bembridge approached the foul tide and light airs made it difficult to round with a number of boats seeming to take more than one attempt. At this point a bad decision by the Skip (he blames the drugs you know), lost Electron a lot of ground. Finally round Bembridge after some slow speed "port" and "starboard" action on the mark Electron got some clear air and raced off (at a few knots). Searching for his fag packet Skip realised it was time "to do it properly" and retired to the "Navigatorium".

A few sail changes later and Electron was holding her own at the back of the fleet with Code 1 kite and light sheets. A tactical "spicy chicken pasta" kindly created by Pandie raised the crews spirits and they hunkered down for a long night of light airs sail trimming. "Right" said Skip. "Eyes peeled as we are just coming into the Northern shipping lanes" and the crew duly scanned the horizon.

Some hours later Skip announced that Electron had transited both lanes. "Really?" said Rowland, "Must be a quiet night, didn't see many ships" (in fact only two had been seen). Skip just stared, Andy giggled and Pandie said: "You plod, we can't see bugger all because of the viz!" - Rowland just trimmed a bit harder and tried to change the subject.

In the early hours of the morning all seemed to be going well. ETA at the finish was 8 am and there were a few boats around (as usual, they all looked like Girolle). Past Barfluer and with some "safe" easting in the bag the wind died and Electron stopped. There followed the usual slop and trim routine with a kite that would not fill. A few sail changes later saw Electron in Company with Whislter and Ocean Cavalier (we think). A very nasty squall woke everyone up and got the crew to do their ninth sail change of the race (dunno why they are counting - ITS YOUR JOB!!). Anyway, for a while Electron struggled to make any progress, with Skip giving a running commentary of how they were doing……."nope, were definitely going backwards. Oh, wait a minute, reckon we are making way now. No - sorry - only joking".

At this point Pandie offered Skip a winch handle as "incentive" to stop his commentary and also suggested that Leonard the lump (the armpit alien) was bringing out all the evil in him! In the end, Whistler went inshore, followed by Ocean Cavalier and made better progress - never mind, shoot the navigator.

The sun was blazing as Electron lay at anchor waiting for the lock to open and celebrations to begin. As usual, the dodgy dispensing of wine was done from the back of the race officer's car in the car park.(Ed the Yacht Club is no more hence the Car boot party) Skip, stayed sober (I know I know, hell has finally frozen over!) but that's antibiotics for you.

Another great weekend with some testing sailing conditions rounded off nicely by Skip finding a football floating near EC1 on the way back. The Electron crew's attempt at "Yacht football" was hilarious and called for a number of "ball overboard" procedures.

Postscript - Concerned readers need not fear, Skip has recovered.

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