STORM TRYSAIL CLUB
Storm Trysail Club Commodore's account
of the 2006 Vineyard Race -- Windy Sailing
There is a tendency in America, and certainly on Long Island Sound to
cancel races when winds exceed 20 knots, and in particular to shelter
junior sailors from windy conditions. The best sailing is in breeze, and
only hands-on experience works. That is one reason Storm Trysail Club,
with the cooperation of Larchmont Yacht Club and the JSA runs its Junior
Safety at Sea Seminars and its Intercollegiate Offshore Championship.
In England, which has generally rougher sailing conditions than the
USA, the famous Fastnet race draws over 200 boats. Learning its lesson
from the 1979 disaster where 15 sailors died, the British instituted safety
training and continued to sail in heavy weather. A few years ago I
skippered a big heavy Swan 65 yawl and we started in 30-35 knots of headwind
with a number three and reefed main (no mizzen). The little boats had
storm jibs and many sported storm trysails. Within five days 95% of the
fleet had sailed to Ireland and back!
For the crew of Blue Yankee, Snow Lion, and Lora Ann, the Vineyard Race
was an exhilarating experience. We learned a tremendous amount about our
boats, and ourselves, and can go offshore as better and safer sailors
in the future. We also picked up great new stories and jokes about seasickness,
and improved our knowledge of storm sail handling and trim, steering over
waves, and food preparation in zero gravity. Perhaps most important we
strengthened our friendships with our fellow crewmembers. We feel very
content with what we accomplished, persisting and coping with nasty conditions
for 45 hours. But as Sir Edmund Hillary pointed out about the Mountain,
we didn't conquer the sea-- we simply managed to get along for a few hours--
it's still out there and we are happy in our homes.
Since I bought Lora Ann in 1993, I have kept brief notes from each race
covering sail-trim, tactics, local strategy, equipment, weather, etc.
I review these occasionally and re-learn much of what I have forgotten!
This review, great crew continuity, and close competition with well-sailed
sister Express 37s have all helped us move Lora Ann up the learning curve.
The Express 37 (Carl Schumacher rest in peace) is a great design, and
combined with our approach, has kept us competitive under IMS, PHRF, Americap,
and IRC. A new boat every year is definitely not our style.
All this leads me to the point. The "review" of this year's
Vineyard Race could break my notebook as the race tried to break the boat.
Despite our many heavy weather practice days, detailed preparations, excellent
storm sails, very experienced crew, and three round trips to Bermuda,
the violence of beating upwind for 28 hours to Buzzards Tower in very
nasty seas and gale force winds was a huge learning experience.
Almost every year since 1993 we have gone out sailing when racing has
been cancelled to practice our heavy air technique with our upper wind
range sails including storm jib (both the big one and the small one),
storm trysail and chicken chute. We often take juniors aboard, and always
wear PFDs and harnesses if conditions warrant. Years ago when Hurricane
Bertha glanced off our coastline and was heading away from us, we went
out with our orange day-glow storm trysail and storm jib. If we had not
actually sailed the boat in storm conditions we would not have been prepared
for the Vineyard, but we still learned so much.
Pre-Race Decision Making
The forecasts from NOAA and Commander's Weather were pretty well on target:
Ernesto would head into Pennsylvania and butt up against a strong Canadian
High, squeezing the isobars and forcing strong easterlies on Long Island
Sound and the nearby ocean. The forecasts had the big picture and timing
quite right, but underestimated the wind velocity by 10-15 knots. Nevertheless
it was clear to everyone this would be a windy, nasty, dead upwind race.
The extra velocity must always be considered a possibility. (It amazes
me that in our local races, some boats don't carry sails for breezes above
our normal 0-18 knot range and retire when the wind goes over 20.) Ocean
racers cannot afford to make assumptions and must be ready for anything.
This supports the decision of many good sailors who based their pre-start
withdrawal from the Vineyard on the forecasts of 25-30 with gusts to 40,
which can easily become 40-45 with gusts to 50-60, and did (Blue Yankee
recorded 62).
Withdrawal after the Start
Anyone preparing a boat and crew for a distance race has put in a lot
of hard work, and some money and emotion. Quitting after a start is not
fun, but combinations of actual damage, feared damage, crew sickness or
injury all play a part. An owner/skipper has serious responsibility for
the lives of his/her crew and may decide to retire. The Vineyard gave
competitors an opportunity to turn around before the wind and sail home,
so that's OK. However, an ocean race way offshore is different.
The Fastnet 1979 and Sydney-Hobart 1998 disasters illustrated that often
the best way to handle terrible conditions is not to retire, but to slow
the boat down and sail conservatively, but continue racing which causes
the crew to maintain focus and have an objective. Sir Ernest Shackleton
applied this well during his famous 1914 Antarctic expedition when his
vessel the Endurance was crushed by ice. He knew the importance of a goal
and upon the loss of the ship immediately and optimistically created a
new goal-- get to the edge of the ice and find rescue. In an Ocean race,
keeping your first goal may be better than retiring, but if you retire,
you better create a new goal and keep up spirits. Take Care of the Crew.
Distance racing is about balance: balancing risk against opportunity
--both tactically and pushing the boat and crew physically, a watch system
is essential to enable the crew to preserve strength and focus. Appropriate
food for the conditions and plenty of water are a must. Granola bars and
Zwieback biscuits worked well. At least they came up easily if necessary!
Most important of all is a compatible, fit, experienced crew. I was fortunate
to have:
John Browning - 20 Bermuda races
and 3 Transatlantic
Lee Reichart- 14 Bermuda and 3 transatlantic
Adam Loory- 8 Bermuda and a Transpac passage
Einar Haukeland (Norway)- 1 Bermuda and
many European offshore
Chris Reyling- 14 Bermuda (2 doublehanded
with me) and a Transatlantic
Patrick Slattery (LYC) - a Bermuda and our
youngest crew by many years
Brenda Lewis - a Lora Ann regular for 10
years with offshore experience
Ocean racing is not the time to train, but a crew with (say) 75 % very
experienced and 25% competent sailors is fine. Seasickness and injury
can shrink the available manpower, and the extra load on the remaining
crew will wear them down. This was a good race to be overloaded with experience!
This Vineyard Race was clearly going to be a buster, so we established
a "paired" watch system where "buddies" would relieve
each other at fair and reasonable intervals depending on the conditions.
Exposure is an issue, so strict four hour watches were not maintained.
I don't believe in everyone waking and trying to dress and squeeze on
deck together, so the pairing works for me. I think it is dangerous and
distracting when too many crew are switching together, and a new crew
emerging from the hatch, even though already tethered to the boat (Golden
Rule One) is not fully functional, balanced, or aware of exactly what
is happening on deck.
I also decided that the off-watch would not wake up for each tack and
shift to windward bunks. We were doing too much tacking and sleep was
challenging enough. They needed any rest they could get. So, two crew
slept on each side.
Drinking a lot of water is essential in heavy weather, but the result
is obvious. In heavy weather no one pees over the rail-- too dangerous
(Golden Rule Two). We use a cup in the cockpit or bucket in the cabin
and pass it up. We also try to keep the cabin clean and bailout water
slopping around. Bilge pumps cannot operate at big angles of heel, so
sponges and buckets are necessary. A dinghy scoop sure would have been
nice.
Taking off and hanging foul weather gear before climbing in the bunk
helps keep the sleeping bags dry. Despite our efforts, everything eventually
got wet, including us. The pressure of the waves breaking over the boat
and us was too much for any of our foul weather gear, and we
had Henry Lloyd, Musto, Gill, etc! Fortunately it was not the Block Island
Race in May and the water was warm.
Lashing down all heavy objects in the cabin such as batteries, toolboxes
and icebox lids was a ust. The Vineyard Race seas were so rough that sail-bags
and crew could be left airborne (sitting on the head was impossible).
Lockers were sliding open and shut and anything not bolted down was shifting.
A small applesauce container flew across the cabin and hit one crew in
the head, and a flying plate targeted our GPS switch and turned it off.
Everyone took at least one fall but fortunately no serious injuries. Well-located
strong grab rails are mandatory for moving around the cabin.
On deck, the crew sometimes put their legs over the side and "hiked",
but eventually the wind-driven saltwater from the wave crests was too
brutal. The three crew (always harnessed) would sit on the windward deck
just forward of the helmsman, holding on and braced. At first the helmsman
sat on deck with feet against the cockpit braces steering with the hiking
stick. Finally a big wave rolled the boat and struck the rudder, launching
the helmsman Adam Loory over the tiller and onto the leeward deck. The
boat auto-tacked. No damage but a sore Adam! Thereafter we steered sitting
in the cockpit directly holding the tiller. The crew would act as a water
and wind shield so the helmsman could look forward.
The Race
Our "Class" started at 1530 Friday off Stamford. We had the
best start since there was no one else. We knew we would be racing against
only bigger boats that would start after us. Eventually 26 boats out of
53 registered would start. It would be a long lonely beat! The wind was
about
28 knots and we flew a single reefed main and number four jib. After a
few hours of tacking along the Connecticut shore trying to find a little
shelter near the Norwalk islands from the easterly, we tacked towards
Long Island. On the way across the wind picked up into the low 30's so
we put in a second reef. This combination would take us out the Gut into
the ocean. Along the Long Island Shore we eventually found a little shelter
east of Mattituck as the north shore of the Island curved around. By short
tacking the shore, we stayed ahead of a J160 all the way to the Gut.
At 0600 Saturday we exited the Gut. We had decided that going out the
wider Race would be detrimental to our health, with a potentially 5-knot
current flowing into a 35 knot easterly -- boatbreaking waves. Once in
the ocean, the wind increased to 38-40 knots. With all hands on deck we
took down the number four, dragged it aft, turtled it, and put it below
- no sails were safe on deck with seas sweeping us. Then our hardy Norwegian-American
foredeck crew set the storm jib. The boat loved the combination and we
stood up a little straighter and rode the seas better.
The seas continued to grow to 10-12 feet, and we were later to learn
that the shock from the waves had damaged our transponder so the Committee
at Stamford had lost track of us. We did not realize how bad the storm
was ashore and how much they were worrying. Fortunately we called in after
lunch and reassured them we still existed. We were to learn that only
the very well sailed 67 foot Blue Yankee and 50 foot Snow Lion (both Storm
Trysail boats) were still out there with us. Getting lonelier!
We approached Block Island late in the morning and tried to find a lee
along the western shore. It was tempting to head into Salt Pond, but we
already had a lot of pain and suffering invested in the race. The big
swell disappeared, but the nasty five-foot chop was terrible. The crew
below
thought hand grenades were going off in the forward cabin every few seconds
as we pile-drove into the seas. We cleared the bell off the North End
at 1300 hours with 25 miles to beat to the Buzzards Tower. The wind was
a steady 38-40 knots and began to puff to 50. The big seas were over 15
feet. It was time to consider the storm trysail, but with only 25 miles
to go, I did not want to put crew at risk standing on the cabin top. In
hindsight, we should have hove to and changed.
17 miles from the Tower we passed Snow Lion heading back to Block Island.
With her 34-mile lead we were beating her on corrected time. But the next
few hours would be excruciating as the wind regularly puffed over 50.
With our big heel, our gauges under-read so we probably had upper 50's
(Blue Yankee part way home read 62). The motion was terrible, everyone
was tired, some were sick, but no one even mentioned the idea of quitting.
The helmsmen were doing a fabulous job working over waves and controlling
the boat, and the crew played the mainsheet and traveler. The jokes were
absolutely the worst, but they helped enormously. Finally at 2000 we rounded
the Tower to cheers and planed off at 15 knots towards Block Island and
home.
During the night the big seas made steering and moving around very difficult,
but we were very happy! Our diet of granola bars now shifted to rolls
with chicken pasta (intended to be Friday's main course) and soup. We
replaced the storm jib with the number four at Block Island and winged
it on the pole. We ran to the Gut at 10-15 knots, and finally re-entered
Long Island Sound. The waves were very big, and helmsman concentration
was critical. We rigged preventers to keep the boom in check. I like 1/2-inch
nylon anchor line lead to a pad-eye next to the shrouds and then back
to a cabin top winch near the cockpit.
After several gibes we finally reached New Haven where the wind suddenly
dropped off to 10-15 knots and swung southeast and finally worked its
way to WSW. The last few ours we beat with our number one and full main.
Rounding the Cows buoy off Stamford, the crew insisted on setting the
big asymmetrical for the last half-mile so we could finish under chute
for the entertainment of the very kind Race Committee who came out to
finish us.
- Rich duMoulin
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