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2008 Race ReportsRace 3 - The North Sails Nab Tower RaceThe alternative Nab Tower Race Report from J-Fever: The perspective from a first time sailor. It was 5.15 am when my alarm went off, a whole half hour earlier than it was supposed to - oh dear, already a bad start to the day. Then the first wave of dread hit my stomach. What had I let myself into? Me, sailing, a recipe for disaster! I hadn't viewed the last weather forecast, and I really didn't want to know. At 7.25 am, my lift to the boatyard turned up. When I voiced that I had 'cold-feet' I was taken literally and told to wear an extra layer of socks. How much did I wish later on that day that I had taken heed of that mistaken advice! By 7.30 am I was en route to the boatyard and by which time it was far too late by then to chicken out - the next wave of dread. At 7.45 am we arrived next to the Hamble and a ten minute rummage
in the shed saw me kitted out with waterproofs, but alas no boots.
My much trusted hiking boots would have to do. I was soon being
rowed out to J-Fever, my knees quite literally knocking together. Once onboard, and having been introduced to the rest of the crew, I started kitting up. Two layers of socks, a tee-shirt, a thick woollen jumper, scarf, gloves and the waterproofs, and then I was told I would need an extra layer - an extra layer? No way! This can't be good. Reluctantly I added a fleece, pulled my waterproofs back on and was glad that there was no mirror onboard. With red waterproof bottoms, a yellow coat, all of those layers, and quite possibly at this point going a tinge of green around the gills, I am sure I resembled a cross between the Michelin woman and an over-ripe mango wearing a silly pink woolly hat! With life jacket and safety harness on, I was ready to head up on deck - it had only taken me 20 minutes to get ready, and we were motoring down the Hamble. Up on deck I was told I was going to be a squirrel - the instructions for which didn't sound too complicated - pull the kite through a hatch and tie the red and green ropes in a half knot - even I could do that, surely! I was then offered seasickness tablets, which I did not take as a good sign. Never been seasick before, but always a first time! Then the safety briefing - covered everything, but created a few more questions in my mind… although, I had to question why I asked for clarification on the MOB button - surely if anyone were going overboard today, it would be me!! As we headed out of the Hamble and the waves got a little bigger - uh-oh! - feeling queasy, 'don't give in to it' I told myself, having refused tablets there was pride at stake. Then came the instruction to head up onto the side of the boat to show the life jacket and harness, to which the thought crossed my mind - that looks a bit slippery and dangerous and far too close to the edge. I gingerly moved myself up onto the side of the boat (mainly using my bottom, I have to admit as my legs were wobbling) and for the first time dangled my legs over the edge above the water - aaaarrrrgggghhhhh! Here we go!! The first bit of the race out to the Nab Tower was absolutely wonderful. The sun on the back of the neck, and we were going along at quite a pace - this was definitely the life. I was fascinated with the trimming and grinding? It was made to look so effortless. Then there was tacking. I learnt quite a bit on the first tack by nervously following what everyone else was doing. I soon got the hang of it - this was fun… until I was warned to make the most of it, as the return leg would be horrible… As we got closer to the Nab Tower, the wind started to pick up, and being closest to the kicker, I was somehow elected to be in charge of it. I used my skills with the kicker and then asked what would happen if I didn't react fast enough on the call. To which the answer came 'look at the boat over there' and to the starboard side was a boat heeling over terribly and trying to do a 360 degree handbrake turn on itself - Ok then… quite important. It was all going fine, until whilst trying to pull the rope back in, a wave sloshed over the deck and straight up my trouser leg - oh dear, cold water and nature suddenly called. My first experience of using the heads whilst moving was somewhat close to an adventure all of its own. Frantic shouting was the first I was aware that anything interesting was going on up on deck. As I stood up, the boat took a sharp roll to the port side, flinging me through the doorway with my trousers still around my ankles. Panic set in… As I bent down to try to rectify the trouser situation, I was flung against the door again, flying straight out into the cabin this time and was quite alarmed to see water sloshing over the portside window. More panic… are we going down? If so, I haven't got my life jacket on and moreover, I STILL have my trousers around my ankles - the indignity! It quietened down and I was able to dress myself - phew! I was still trying to do up the leg straps on my life jacket when Jamie turned up on the scene ready for our squirrelling activities. That was easy enough. I went back up on deck for all of a couple of minutes before electing to duck below again for the tack around the Nab Tower - it seemed too much of a scary prospect. The tack around the Nab Tower done, and I thought I would head up on deck again. But, oh-no, J-Fever had other plans… I tried countless times to make the steps and through the hatch. The Skipper, seeing me in the cabin and only making what probably looked like vain attempts to get to the deck, asked me to do what I later learned was one of my most useful contributions of the day (that was apart from being ballast), to hand around the sandwiches. Again, a simple task made somewhat difficult by the fact that as you line yourself up to do a task, there is a sharp movement in the opposite direction that takes you quite by surprise. Relief when I passed the first lot of sandwiches up. After handing up the second lot of sandwiches, I decided to eat a sandwich of my own. Oh dear, now that was a foolish move. Staring at the cabin walls moving up and down whilst eating was a recipe for disaster. The second sandwich box back down, I HAD to get back up on deck. After failing a few more times to achieve the small distance from cabin to deck, I was taken pity on and with a helping hand and a heave-ho, I was there - and OH MY WORD the world around me had changed! The temperature, it felt, had dropped by about ten degrees, black clouds were all around, and as I took my position on the side of the boat, I realised the angle she was sitting at was all far too scary for my liking. I clutched onto the railings thinking I would have been better off down below again. After half an hour and having lost all sensation in my hands and feet, being lashed in the face by the wind, rain and hail, and occasionally getting whipped in the face by a wave that stung the eyes, I had to ask why? I could only liken it to some tortuous rollercoaster that you cannot get off. I closed my eyes and thought of a tropical beach. I also learnt that I could not wear my hood in the rain as with my hat and hood, I had almost missed the call for a tack. I was somewhat reassured when I was told that once past the end of the island, we would lose the chop. I was relieved to find out that was true, and we even briefly had some blue sky. I believe that it was at this point we did a quick tack and a change of head sail, to the No. 2 jib, and took in a reef, but I am really not sure. A bit more wind, chop, rain and what felt like mild hypothermia setting in, and we reached the quiet of Osborne Bay, and the lee side of Norris Point. It was only at this point I realised that my waterproof trousers were indeed not waterproof, and as a result, I was wet through to the skin, I am NOT going down below again when the finish line is practically in sight, and especially not after last time. Just round Norris Point, the sky was black, and boats up ahead were vanishing into the squall. A reef was taken in. I watched in pure amazement as people leapt around the boat and there was me almost welded to the railings and too scared to move. Just around Norris Point the call went up 'ready to tack'. I
crouched ready in position and, before I knew it, the boat had
already started to tip. I tried with all my might to get my legs
to move quickly, but they were frozen solid… panic, panic,
what am I going to do? I grabbed hold of the bar above the cabin
portside and looked to my right to see Jamie also in the same
predicament. Now, both of us were dangling with air beneath our
feet and water not far below. I screamed, I actually screamed,
I don't think I have ever screamed in fear before. Almost instantly
I felt myself being hoisted upwards where I could grab hold of
some ropes and then the bar the other side before swinging my
legs over into a safe position. Somehow, and I think he should
be renamed 'Superman', Jamie had managed to rescue himself. We
both sat there a little dumbstruck and shaken. Realising there
were more tacks to come, I decided to head down below for the
last few minutes of the race - and I have to say that decision
was the ONLY thing I regretted from the day. Then, like God had
pressed a switch there was calm… A change of clothes and
a bite to eat and everything was better. So, I end my report with a big and genuine thank you to the Skipper and the Skipperess for inviting me on board, and to them and all the crew for looking after me. Report from J-Fever, Class 3 I arrived on board late on Friday and was told that I didn't want to know the forecast, so it was inblissful ignorance that I set off down the Hamble in sunshine and light if cold wind. The impression of a pleasant drift was long banished by the time we were preparing for the start. We put up the orange reacher, it transpired that the skipper had elected to leave the light one behind in favour of the tiny heavy weather one and I began to have more misgivings. We had a bit of a pleasant sunny downwind interlude and some wonderful fast sailing, marred by the rain squall. Carried the spinnaker on past the fort until the wind strength and direction made a change wise. Rounded the Nab and set off back, a very welcome sandwich issue and then horrible hail squalls. This was the elements revenge for our not sailing to Cherbourg at Easter I fear. As we came up the Solent the weather did not look inviting so we put in a reef. More and fiercer squalls followed, and whilst the crew on the rail tucked their heads into their oilies and turned their backs to the wind, the helm was left to face it. The surface of the water seemed to be entirely white and loose and the visibility dreadful, but it passed. We more or less worked the Island shore, a few tacks past Snowdon and finish. What is this? Sunshine and 9.5 knots of wind for sail back to the mooring. Many thanks to the race team out in the cold, not as cold as
us but they didn't have the exciting ride to compensate. I hope
their toes and fingers have recovered. Report from J'Nickit, Class 4 This was the first JOG race of the 2008 season to get off the start line, however the sunshine at the start and first kite run, lulled the fleets in to a false senses of happy weather sailing, only to find it slapped away by some fairly unpleasant conditions by the mid point of the race. Over from Brighton with the boat borrowed from the generous owner [hence the name], for another crack at one of our favourite JOG games in the Solent playground, with a scratch crew of 7, three new to racing and one new face, a dirty bottom, and with delivery sails, we were prepared for anything. Why oh why oh why do we think it only takes an hour to get over to Cowes from Hamble? Leave an hour and a half… Arriving in the knick of time at the start, we decided to reach
up and down a bit and figure how strong the tide was. The foredeck
seemed to momentarily forget where he was, despite an early night
and only drinking OJ the previous evening, so we elected to follow
David and Ron on J-dream as they are always steady starters. The wind was a comfortable 18kts, or so, from the west providing a quick, tide assisted, kite run over the line. No wind on the Point and going low along the green proved not smart as we watched three mid line starters fly away in good breeze and max tide in the channel. Still, we thought they wouldn't be able to hold their kite to Prince Consort when the wind blows out of the Medina - good. They did - bad. We, and several other boats,, seemed to have completely forgotten all that we had previously learnt in all of the years Solent racing, believing Snowden to be some way up the Medina River, which of course it isn't, resulting in a gybe onto port. Now approaching a pack with a boat full of inexperienced crew is not comfortable and not something to be repeated to readily. An overlap with a double hander who kindly recognised this fact and shuffling left they put the pressure on us to gybe smartly at Snowden. We did; and hit nothing, rounding the mark by the width of a Rizzla paper. Owner may lend us the boat again… The Others, with better memories and starting mid line cleverly doing away with the need to gybe, lead the pack of 14, in now building breeze, out past Castle Point down the centre of the shipping channel with a tidal stream providing a splendid 2kts with us. An early chance to undertake J-Dream, as they had a wrap, saw us honking past, well nearly, as Ron unravelled the kite and they were off over the top of us again. A champagne run with the right kite up and crew learning how to smile at the cameras, kept us occupied and amused. Working slightly east of our immediate neighbours, and the pack in general, for separation on the two-handed J-Dream and No Doubt, put us on track to Sturbridge Shoal and the hope of an extra tidal sweep that we had once read and tested on a delivery a few years back. That, or course, failed to appear; the reason the tidal race at Sturbridge has been written about only once is that it doesn't give you much [ie enough]. However, our separation on the pack left us with a nice angle to harden up and close the gap on the leading 4 boats, which was just as well as the black kite of Only Just had gotten very small indeed, and we could only just make out the crew of J-Dream, leaving only the silhouette to work out who was which. Wrong again. The wind, now up to 25+, nailed us and everyone else. Still with the kite up, initial gains were hampered by the increasing winds before the forts, which gave rise to a tremendous, and frankly excessive, amount of keel flashing from the lead boats and us. There was little time to look back at the rest of the fleet, but presumably they were struggling of there own account in between the gasps of 'why didn't they clean their bottom? They'd go much faster'. The majority of kites came down at that point, some going lower than others. As the wind increased and shifted we hardened up a touch to a fairly open fetch taking us on a nice straight course to the Tower. Our lovely old No 3 with stiff batten has still got a reasonable shape, this despite the fact that the foredeck hadn't put the batten in! Drinks coming from him all round later helped to smooth things over; still, at least it won't get much windier…but we knew an 8 was coming at some point… Some initial gains for the boats in front and behind was lost
by heading a little low, mostly probably because there was only
two of them on the rail whilst we, with 7 lumps on the rail, steadily
tracked the Tower and closed, slightly, on the leaders. With the Tower now in the order of 5 miles off, the enviable and glorious sight of Journey Maker speeding up from rear of the pack, they were even later than us to the start, was testament to the skill of the pair of them in keeping their lovely big blue kite flying without obvious sign of trouble. They draw level with us a couple of boat lengths to port and we applauded them as they went past with a wave of recognition from them, going like a train with the wind building. Quite why they continued to reach way 20 degrees off course at speed going hard left, will probably remain one of life's unanswered questions; we supposed they were having too much fun going that speed with the kite up; they certainly had broad smiles. We felt sorry for them later two miles out from the Tower, seeing as we could from a few miles west of them, the series of broaches that finally brought that beautiful blue kite down. The next time we saw them was from the slip way of the Royal Southern, on the way to the bar, as they were heading up the Hamble River rather late for a pint. Back on board with the Tower looming ever closer, the slight list of which amusing to the crew when told of the American tanker that hit it in 1999, elicited a quick discussion on choice of rounding, the debate of which had clearly also taken place on the lead boats, giving rise to a selection of: wide in wide out, narrow in wide out, wider out and even wider in, and one brave tight in tight out. We selected a rounding strategy somewhere in the middle leaving us with enough sea room to cope with a potential broach on the tower, which didn't materialise - thanks to hard work - and leaving us with enough momentum to see us through the shadow, but not quite enough to avoid shipping a large wave directly behind it, before sloping over to port tack and welcoming the rather ominous view of the leaden sky streaking over the Island. Moods darkened with the colour of the sky, which bore hail and strong winds with gusts over 35+kts, putting pay to the resolve of some competitors and resulted in a few retirements. Several of us stayed left on the fetch to the forts looking for a predicted back eddy, which only marginally appeared. The line up at the rounding was Only Just leading the way from J-Dream to us on Jeez Louise then Jangada Too and No Doubt. We dove into the sands and the hope of tidal relief, which we did find, and many thanks to the markers that plotted the extremities of the bank. We all hoped you wouldn't be there for long. With Jangada closing on us, but staying a little way out in the channel for foul tide, the fleet of four tacked their way up to Castle Head. We took one last dive in before the castle and found a little positive tide, but pushed us very close to a small gathering of moored Launches, who's G & T we disturbed as we broached our way past them. Jangada now to east of us left only J-Dream now within striking distance as we rounded the headland - a bit close to the bricks there, aiming for Snowden, which we all, thankfully, remembered was where we left it on the way out, and then in to the mouth of Medina for positive tide, cover tacking J-Dream. The moves gave us just enough to take second place by a few seconds on corrected, but leaving much respect to David and Ron on J-Dream and the crew of Jangda Too, who frankly must've put in a great deal of hard work and effort and deserve all the applause. Great race, credit to the new crew, especially the poor first time mainsheet who was beasted remorselessly all day. Back to Brighton and a great second place - everyone rightly chuffed with themselves. At the K+Q; met David and Ron from J-Dream who said they were
following us - now isn't that where we started…? Report from Electron, Class 5 (Video footage available at www.electron.nildram.co.uk click on video button) Followers of the escapades of Electron and her crew will recall that this reporter often has had a difficult job chronicling events - that is the job of trying to remember what happened during the race after the brain has been fogged by lack of sleep and partying and then writing it in such a manner as to not offend those of you who are of a more genteel disposition! Skip has not made this reporter's job any easier this year by deciding to race the season double handed. To extract the necessary "history" from Skip and his crew this reporter has had to resort to Police style interviewing after the event - very tiresome! Skip likes to think he has been very generous by agreeing to install a video camera on the boat to record the exciting moments of water washing him and his crew. This reporter thought it was a great idea until he had to sit through 5 hours of water splashing onto the lens and a constant sound of wind rushing past the microphone! Hopefully there will be other races where conversations may be heard! Electron was well prepared for the season and her crew excited at the prospect of actually "getting out there" after the Easter postponement. So, the shorthanded crew comprising of Skip (well it is his boat) and Vickie were prepared and in Hamble early the Friday evening before the start of the race. Mistake number 1 - Into Hamble for a curry and a quiet pint in the White Hart. Vickie, who had been working across the pond all week, needed to "wind down" and put her beer head on. Skip accepted the challenge. (This mistake was not realised until the alarm went off Saturday morning) Mistake number 2 - When double handed keep an eye on the time!
Electron was through the identity gate in plenty of time and bumbled
around Gurnard. A technical hitch with the jib saw Skip beating
away from the line as if he was going on a jolly to Yarmouth.
As he finished sorting it out he said to Vickie: "How much
time to the start?" to which she looked at her newly acquired
yacht watch and announced: "15 seconds". Skip was not pleased at this and mutters something about the point of watches and their use for most of the 10 minutes it took to get to the start line. Mistake number 3 - Never, Never say before the start of a race: "Ah well, Easter would have been a nightmare so the weather is bound to be better for this race!" Because the conditions were a little "spicy" for a first outing of the year Skip took it easy and sailed under whites until Snowden and then deployed the Code 3 kite. It's a little purple beast that was described by the salesman as: "bullet proof" and: "other bits will break before it gives up". Well, for the first time in living memory the salesman was telling the truth! Off Ryde in one particularly fruity gust there was a loud bang and the turning block for the guy did a good job of returning to its component atoms. Fortunately no other damaged occurred (so the crew thought) and the pole was brought under control rapidly. However, a few minutes later another bang and the sheet let go! Skip was none too pleased and in deference to the fact that he now has to be well behaved and well spoken said something along the lines of: "Oh dear, the jolly old silly kite is in the water acting as a brake" Ten minutes later the sodden mess was messing up Electrons clean cabin and the crew battled on under whites. Fortunately most of the other boats in the fleet were changing to whites so not too much face was lost. The rounding of Nab was a lumpy affair and all the competitors treated the wonky lump with respect and kept well clear. The beat back was actually quite a lot of fun (so this reporter is told) until, that is, a black evil cloud descended on the fleet and the hailstones tried to brain poor old Skip. Vickie was quick to point out that you can only brain somebody who has one!!! The finish can only be described as a relief and the after race gathering good fun. Now Skip has asked that this reporter at least write something positive and good about his race efforts (see mistakes above). After much research, further questioning of Vickie I could only come to the conclusion that Electron has gone a bit "tree hugger" and "hippy". Skip has installed an oven on the boat and also developed what he calls "boat bread". In simple terms the wily old fox has created food so that the crew cannot hide below for extended periods claiming to make sandwiches. I am reliably informed Skip will be posting not only video clips
from the race on the Electron web site but also the recipes for
the Electron boat bread. Draw your own conclusions………
Report from ARIANE, Class 5 It was at 4.00am on Saturday morning whilst tucked up in our bunks on Ariane that the normally calm oasis that is Bucklers Hard was being rocked by the power that is greater than the Met. office. This was to be an opportunity for the Skipper to try once again to gently ease his 14 year old Son back into yacht racing after several months recuperation and counselling from the after effects of the maelstrom that was the Weymouth race, another Met. office lie. Anyway, after the customary pre-start kedgeree we felt bold and confident, but quietly the Skipper was not looking forward to putting a reef into his nice new pentex mainsail first time out. Start line change - the tactician`s interpretation was that this
was an opportunity to go right over to the north end, despite
the bias and take advantage of the slightly closer reach, the
extra tide out of Southampton water and even more wind ! We all
know that uneasy feeling when you have taken the minority decision
but still don`t quite know why you are the minority. We would
find this out later. This tactic really works well when you`ve
got a spinnaker, which we had for well over 15 seconds. Without
a spare spinnaker (never again) we goose-winged down to Browndown
in cruising mode watching the fleet disappear. Boring - but not
for long as we all found out, well not for the tiddlers like us.
Whilst the Skipper`s Son was being restrained from getting at
the VHF to call for immediate rescue, the old hands were consoling
him with yarns of when seas were bigger and winds were stronger
- he wasn`t convinced. The way back was at times exhilarating (this is written a day
after the event) but with gusts of 45 knots and 70mph hail it`s
difficult to retain one`s existing crew rather than increase the
pool of willing victims. However the Skippers`s son is busy doing
something until 20th September. A great day out though, and thanks to the whole JOG team, all
power to your binoculars! Report from Oz Privateer, Class 3 At last we were going to get out and sail Ozzy for the first
time since the Fastnet when she lost her mast. A great first outing and our thanks to the race officers for
the day. Race report from Tearaway Too, Class 3 We couldn't but help feeling a little sorry for the class 4 and
5 starters who had to be on the water an hour earlier than us.
We took the first launch of the day from the Southern and did
a bit of nail biting in case the tide was too low to let us off
the mooring. All was well and we had more than a meter to spare
but we parked We set the new jib for the sail across to the start line and with a bit of engine assistance got there with time in hand to admire Peter's handiwork repainting the starting boards! A fine sight resplendent in their new gloss paint! The longer start line gave plenty of opportunity to find a place to get clear air but made judging its position relatively difficult so we aimed for Gurnard anyway. Luckily that also put us in a quite good spot for the wind but we nearly went the wrong side of Snowden when the skipper's attention lapsed. Still, it's early in the season to get it all right! Yes, we were just a bit rusty with the kite hoist too but got it up in time for Bekens if not Hamo. Then followed a blistering run with speeds up to 14.2 knots in flat water when the gusts came in. A perfect wind angle for J'S and sustained speeds in the 10's. The Forts came up much too quickly. We hung on past No Man's Land but with a quickly increasing angle to Nab, dropped and white sailed it. Coming harder on the wind showed up the lack of weight on the rail and we struggled to maintain our position in the fleet as we rounded and headed back towards the forts. The reefing tack would not reach the horn because the track cars stand proud of the boom and we delayed setting a reef until the skipper could rig a bodged extension, somewhere up past Ryde pier and we had barely got it in when the wind shadow from the Island caused us to shake it out. J Fever did a prompt change to their bigger headsail and stole through whilst we opted for less tide in Osborne Bay. The fluky wind off Castle Point put us initially at a disadvantage but left us well positioned for the final beat across the front of Cowes and we slipped back through to finish just ahead. A really exciting finish all round and a great day's sailing. Pipped on handicap all round but a satisfying second on the water and we enjoyed the gathering in the King and Queen and a chance to catch up with the gossip. Barely recognised the scrubbed up Captain in his finery. A big thanks to the race officers for a good race! Report from Mestengo, Class 5 This is the first report (and indeed first JOG race) with Mestengo.
Reports from those of us who used to pick up the pen after Bounty
Hunter races - good days they were too - generally majored on
the cuisine and Pimms timings amongst race highlights. There is
not much likelihood of a similar approach to any reporting from
a fairly basic Mustang 30 but I was pretty glad Paul's bacon rolls
were pre-made and there was some lunch scoff after the race! I had intended to get a few photos but the forecast proved a bit too accurate for any artistic efforts in this direction - maybe next time. We made a fairly good start given some uncertainty on board on the precise timings and gybed quickly onto starboard and hoisted the spinny finding a good slant outside Snowden. Alchemist's hoist looked the quickest but we seemed to have the legs on her when ours started to pull nicely. A great run down past Ryde and the wind came in harder towards the fort when we got some double figures speeds and a record since I've had the boat of 11.3 kts. We thought the course change at the fort would make holding the kite very tricky so doused it in the wind shadow and started a white sail charge to the Nab on a beamish reach which was still fast and proved to be the right decision. The J 80 was almost invisible ahead and must have had some big speeds on the outward trip - 'don't worry they rate higher and it will be a bash back for them' was heard. Then we thought it will be for us too! And so it was although it was worse after the fort coming back - I see Bramblenet had two squalls of over 35 kts but at least the rain/hail flattened the sea a bit. We were down to two reefs for a while and never had any headsail bigger than the No 4 all day so that seems about right. Tacking up to and past Cowes against tide and a westerly was not a joy and was made a bit more difficult by the faster boats coming through, but we all thought it was worth it when we got a decent result. Thanks to the Mestengo crew and JOG! Report from Premier Cru of Coquet, Class 4 An incident packed first day out for the new season started by blowing a spinaker (that had just returned from being repaired following the Poole to Cowes race at the end of last season) as we approached the Forts on our way to the Nab. However, more dramatically, on our return up the Solent past Ryde, in mid channel, we hit something below the water. Our depth gauge fell suddenly from 7.9 meters, where nothing was indicated on the charts, and we came to a sudden halt as we put in a quick tack. The impact meant that one of the crew got submerged in the water, but happily was still attached to the boat and no outside help was required. However the impact had been quite significant so we gave the boat a thorough check out before getting back on course. During this we identified several inches of water in the heads and were concerned to find out if it was related to the incident but were pleased to discover that 'someone' had left a seacock open and the water had come out of the heads. Happy that we had managed to finish the race with no injuries, if well behind most of the fleet, we started the engine to motor back to East Cowes only to discover that the impact of the incident at Ryde meant that we only had reverse gear and had to rely on the Cowes Harbour Master to tow us back to our berth. Any winter rustiness was well and truly blown away and we will now have to assess the full extent of the damage before getting the boat back in shape for the Hayling race. Report from Only Just, Class 4 A sunny start for the first [#3? Life is so confusing] JOG race: J105 Only Just's crew were looking forward to breaking out the sunblock, instead we all hastily dressed up in full wet weather gear and Jez, obviously knowing something that the rest of the crew didn't, donned lifejacket. The long line for the start meant that we could start in clear air, so off we went in good tide and big wind, planing along the rhumb line to No Mans Land Fort with only the occasional excitement as Mathieu got a little too cocky on the helm. We were clear ahead of the chasing fleet and decided to do a conservative drop at the Fort, lifting the Screacher for the run to the Nab. If only, certainly not Only Just! On the hoist, the head caught in the bag, the rest of the sail fell into the water and then Jez, checking that his lifejacket worked, threw himself into the water. HE says he fell in but never mind, Skip told him off so with a little help from Graham who obviously competes in Iron Man tournaments, he got out again. He was still dry so it must have been an optical illusion. So the leg to the Nab became a restful white sail reach in freezing cold wind. The tack round the tower warmed up the subdued crew and then the long cold beat followed. Luckily the wind held up so we were able to hold off the J109's who were following too close for comfort. The beat up the Solent was largely uneventful although we watched a Class V park herself on Ryde Sands, as we all have done once but never again! Coming up to Norris the wind went light and we worked hard on the shifts, passing the two leading Class V boats Stand On and Imperator. All went a bit belly up as we tacked into the finish off The Green: the wind started to climb, continued to climb, and then went into mountaineering mode. Mathieu was feathering the sails to stop us being knocked over, we were going nowhere and Skip was looking at his bank statements. Eventually we crawled over the line to take line honours and return to harbour to warm up. Thanks to the Committee for arranging a breezy albeit chilly
race, but can
we have some sun now, please. Report from Strumpet, Class 5 Our first JOG race in the new boat and time to see how we fared up against our chums in Class 5. Having the joys of an outboard engine to contend with we elected to sail to the start and even managed to sail correctly through the identity gate - this had been a concern as JOG starts always seem to be down tide and we would usually spend every possibly second motoring up tide away from the line - not really an option when you have to stow the outboard! The wind out in the Solent was a lot more than forecast and our decision to spin the rig off and use the #3 was looking somewhat dubious - still it was forecast to drop all day so we would be fine - Yeah Right! Caution did get the better of us however and we put the reef in the main before the start just in case it was lumpy past the forts - we would come to be thankful for this decision later. The decision to use the extended line was greatfully received and we set up for our perfect gybe angle down to Prince Consort and then started conservatively as we didn't have a transit for the extended line. The boat speed looked good and had pulled into the lead by Prince Consort but then seemed to sail into a wind hole. A slow gybe out for more wind was somewhat slow and painful as we watched the rest of the fleet sail past us. Having got out into more wind we then gybed back and pointed at the forts- the boat jumped alive in the 20 knot breeze and we were then consistently humming at 11 knots and surfing up to 14 knots in the gusts - what a ride!. By the time we reached the forts our faces were aching from the grins and the rest of the fleet was a mere speck on the horizon. We couldn't head any higher at the forts due to the wind strength and so had to switch to whites - recovering quickly from dropping the spinnaker into the water and sailing over it, we then reached out to the Nab Tower and seemed to be holding our lead with the sea getting rougher all the time. By the time we reached the Nab it was reasonable lumpy - we gave the Tower a wide berth and then started the upwind slog. With the weather threatening but the chop gradually easing off we reached the forts with our lead intact but with the fleet catching us all the time. Rounding into the Solent we immediately tacked inshore to get out of the tide and proceeded to battle our way back to the finish and started to watch the heavier boats sail past us relishing the conditions with the crew casually looking at us. As I found out in the bar later, the comments were along the lines of "That's looks wet!" - and they were right - time to switch from a jacket to a smock. With the wind increasing, the leg back to Egypt Point turned into a bit of an epic sail with hail and gusts up to 34 knots - the poor main was ragging for most of the beat and at times we were sat right on our ear. But Strumpet battled on and taking every opportunity to get some relief from wind, waves and tide by heading inshore we eventually made Norris. With all the downwind humming and the upwind battering the rudder bolts had worked loose and the rudder was jerking somewhat - given our history of breaking the rudder in the Nab Tower race a few years back we were somewhat jumpy for the last push and were very relieved to finish in one piece and free off towards home to pump the bilges, tighten the bolts and dry everything out. What a race - Watch out if it is windy and down hill all the way! By the way I can confirm that exfoliation by hailstones leaves
your skin Report from Rapscallion of Suburbia, Class 5 Escaping from the clutches of Gosport just after 07:00, we were left in no doubt about the wind strength, even if the wind instruments didn’t work (mast taken off during winter lay up). I was just hoping that it wasn’t going to blow a hooligan like it usually does for the first race of the season. As ever for us, it’s an early start and a 9 nm trek even before we get to the start line, which we did by the skin of our teeth – again! This is an enduring mystery as no matter what time we leave we always end up ‘just’ making the start! With two reefs in and a No3 we ambled over the start line and sailed off eastwards. In short order we shook the reefs out and decided to indulge ourselves in a bit of kite flying – as you do! Encouraged by success in this area, even with the few gusts, we kept her going till just short of No Man’s Land. Seeing other boats ahead taking down their kites only confirmed what we already suspected. The reach to NAB Tower was fantastic if a little wet especially as we cleared the lee of the Island. Here the full brunt of the wind and sea was felt especially by those on the rail, but with the occasional goffer drenching the cockpit crew for good measure. Rounding Nab, we cut inside an Oceanis 323 and shot off to the NW. The ‘trip’ up to No Man’s Land was a virtual repeat of the reach down, only this time with even more goffers. Approaching No Man’s Land Fort and the sky ahead is looking distinctly unpleasant, almost black. We could see boats a fair way ahead heeling over quite dramatically and then their mains flogging, and knowing we were in for the same. Sure enough the first squall hit and even though we were prepared for it, I don’t think we were prepared for its ferocity with the visibility dropping to just 50 yards. 3 or 4 minutes later the sun pops out and the reefs are shaken out and off we go again cutting in close to the Island and then tacking up towards Norris, where, as luck would have it, we run into another squall. I mean, what is it with the blasted weather today. We start off with sun, then sun with lots of wind, then hail and too much wind, then sun and light airs, then rain and too much wind, then more sun. The main was going up and down like a whore’s drawers with all the reefs being put in and shaken out! The end is in sight though, and with about 8 more tacks, one of which included sailing past the RYS, which Tim seems to derive immense satisfaction from, we cross the finishing line just after 15:00. I think I speak for the other Rapscallions when I say that we feel like we’ve just gone 10 rounds with a professional boxer! The girls thought the goffers allied with the wind was a superb exfoliant – who am I to disagree?. Indeed one of them said “I don’t really feel that I’ve had a good sail unless I’ve been goffered a few times but this is taking the bloody p***”. J Later on at the designated watering hole and having a natter with two chaps off Imperator (GBR4300), one of them suggested that for some first timers this race could be construed as a “baptism of fire” “Nah” said the other one “Baptism of Water” Nuff said! Report from Whistler, Class 5 Regular readers of these pages will remember that the Skipper's 2007 summer sabbatical was rudely interrupted by his return to the world of work. This necessary unpleasantness is still making itself felt (rather like root canal work at the dentist, but that's another story), curtailing his season and had so severely interfered with planning and preparation that Whistler's antifouling was surely still wet when she slipped back into the water before her opening outing of the season. The crew was a bit of a mix and match with the team succumbing to trips down under, babies, work and visits to Buddhist photographic retreats (don't even ask…) - the shortage of able bodies was so severe that Tim and the Skipper had thought about doing it double handed… As we approached the start and exchanged the gentle breeze of the Eastern Solent for something slightly brisker, it seemed that the Skipper had been unusually prescient in ignoring the Stig's weather forecast and opting to prepare the No:3 and put in a reefing line. Scurrying around to find the SIs in response to the blue flag on the JOG box, combined with some sail faffing meant that we missed the start sequence and had to rely on watching our fellow competitors to work out when to go. We had opted for the outer end of the line and steered down under whites until we passed Prince Consort where we (eventually) hoisted the Heavy Reacher for a nice sail down the northern side of the deep water channel, reeling in Alchemist as we passed North Sturbridge, gaining a little on a bunch who had started under kites but watching Strumpet disappear into the distance. The drop at the Forts was the right call but not well executed and we seemed to lack a little "oomph" on the reach up to the Nab. Alchemist passed us initially holding onto their kite but then dropping away downwind. We shook out the reef that we had started with in search of a few more horsepower and closed the Tower with three boats including Heritage and Papillon nipping just in front of us - but as they rounded they left the door wide open and we managed to get inside all three before tacking onto the leg back with them behind us. Nothing much changed on the way back to the Forts except that Clarionet came past us very gracefully - which was a nice sight and that we put the reef back in as we came past Bembridge. We hardened up round the Forts and headed for the ominous black clouds building around the finish, deciding not to play to closely with Ryde Sands - a decision vindicated when Clarionet parked there… ouch! The Stig made the call not to duck in past Ryde as he felt that there wasn't a lot of benefit to justify the extra distance, a strategy that paid in buckets when we were lifted nicely on port as the first squall approached. We took a knock and tacked over which at least had the benefit that the Skipper (who was driving) could present his back to the wind, rain, hail, sleet, ice, whatever… not so sure that the crew on the rail felt the same way! Even so it was MISERABLE and the Skipper realised that for early season racing an oilskin jacket with a proper hood is far more sensible than a posy spray top… We powered through the unpleasantness and as it cleared were well chuffed to see that we had taken out a number of boats and importantly were right on the tail of Mr Phelps in Strumpet. From then on it was trying to pick our way through wind that
varied between 7 and 30 knots, with the reef shaken out and then
put back in off Cowes as the next squall came through, and traffic
building as Class 3 and 4 boats caught up. Report from Mostly Harmless, Class 3 The skipper and co-owner took a season off in 2007, putting Mostly Harmless out of commission and playing with an SB3. After the white-out that was Easter, when we managed only to motor over to Cowes and back for the Red Funnel, this would be the first chance to see whether everything still worked and whether the crew could remember what to do. The first hint of a problem came with a series of phone calls at 0755 from the first of the crew to arrive at Hamble Point - "Have we got the right day? Mostly Harmless is not in the water!" The yard team were soon on the case, but at 0810 discovered that a van was parked in front of MH. A forklift was pressed into action to move the offending vehicle and by 0840 the crew were aboard, the boat was in the water, engine was on, the slings were being slackened off, and we were heading off at full throttle from the lifting bay. We fairly flew down the Hamble, into Southampton Water and across the Solent, flat-sticking the throttle with the log reading 19.1 knots! (We had been joined on Good Friday by Aria's navigator for the Nab Tower Race who, when noticing that the log had been under-reading, had kindly done some recalibration). By the time we arrived to pick up Gary in Cowes only 5 minutes later than originally scheduled, the skipper had the log reading something a bit more plausible, everyone was breakfasted on bagels and smoked salmon (we had been joined by Playing Around's skipper and two crew, one of whom had told me that they expected nothing less), a full set of lifejackets and tethers gathered from somewhere for the Identification Gate and the sails were all ready to hoist. Nothing short of a miracle! Given the rustiness of the MH old-timers and lack of familiarity of the rest of the crew, a start almost on the line with the kite hoisted and pulling was no mean feat. No less was the achievement of avoiding a J109 who'd decided to start on port. This being JOG and an expensive collision avoided, we left the red flag on the backstay taped up, but they know who they are. The co-owner and navigator, who'd had a hard week at work and spent the evening celebrating a colleague's twenty years working in the railway industry, had announced that she would spend the race below - so we had to find our way round the course without her experience and bag of tricks. But MH clearly went something like the right way, or at least the kite team of Ben, Yan and Gary must have found the turbo switch as they trimmed tirelessly on the very twitchy broad reach to the No Man's Land Fort. We pulled away from the bulk of the fleet, troubled only by Tearaway Too and NJOS. But, ominously, Sanguma, rating down at 1.036, was revelling in the conditions and had managed to separate herself from the rest of the fleet and was not far behind.
At No Mans Land Fort, there was enough breeze and the angles were
sufficiently tight for it to be an easy decision to exchange the
kite for the Code 2 Jib. (We are also stilled scarred by the shame
of the photos that popped up on the JOG website in 2006 of MH
broaching on same leg). It was the right call: the bowsprit boats
around us tried to carry kites but headed off towards Le Havre
before discretion overtook them. Reaching the Nab after racing
for only 90 minutes or so (a tidally assisted speed over ground
of about 11 knots), we rounded close behind NJOS and a little
ahead of Tearaway Too before settling into the close fetch back
to No Man's Land, grinding our way past NJOS, and starting to
pull through the back-markers in classes 4 and 5. The conditions turned nice again crossing Osborne Bay. We shook out the reef and, with the lunchtime passed and still a few miles to go, sandwiches were called up from below and for a little while we enjoyed a pleasant Spring picnic. It couldn't last. Approaching Snowden the wind piped up again, the sky turned dark, hats and hoods reappeared and we finished with not very reliable instruments suggesting gusts around 30 knots. Given the white horses and the near invisibility of the finish box in the squall, the numbers were probably not far out.
Looking back we could see that we'd a decent lead over the J120s
who came home behind us, but couldn't tell whether we'd done enough
to keep our time against the smaller boats. Congratulations to
Sanguma whose ten minute elapsed time deficit converted into a
40 second margin of victory.
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on the outside of the dock whilst we sorted out sails, sheets
and the rest of the kit in anticipation of plenty of wind out
in the Solent.
