Lessons from the Rearguard by Neil Matson

Lessons from the Rearguard
by Neil Matson

An account of PB2005 - solo race week.

After completing the Triangle Race in 2004 I was keen to have something to aim for in 2005. I originally thought of the Santander Race, but work constraints would not permit time to dally in Spain and it seemed a shame to have to rush back. Then along came PB2005 – ideal: one-week, decent distances and single-handed racing, something I had not done before.

I must admit, when I began to see the quality of the other participants and their supersonic (well, relative to mine!) yachts I began to get nervous. However, if I was out of place no one made me feel that way and the sense of camaraderie was apparent from the moment my entry was welcomed, to my arrival in Lymington, and throughout the race week - brilliant.

So how did Red Rider, my Westerly Fulmar, and I do? I have owned Red Rider since 1999 and she has looked after me well – for example, during the 2004 Triangle leg to Crosshaven I was caught in a force 9 “on the nose” and she coped very impressively. Each year I’ve tried to “refine” her a little more for safe short-handed sailing mindful, I might add, that she also has to be a family boat – new sails, a cruising shute, folding prop, single-line reefing. As you can probably gather, not an out-and-out racer by any means and you do pay for the compromises. Nevertheless, before I set off for the start of PB2005 at Lymington, I did dump 40 gallons from the water tank, carried only an empty spare can of fuel, moved the heavy bow anchor down below, left behind several “just in case” anchor warps, other ropes and various bits and pieces, and ate as much of the tinned food as I could on the trip over. You can tell – I was hitting racing mode!

The first lesson was on the first leg to Cherbourg: a cruising shute is no substitute for a down wind spinnaker. I need both. Last year the cruising shute was my “investment”, and I did reach a mighty 8.4 knots with it on the leg to Treguier, but when the wind was light and astern I suffered - I now know I could have rigged the cruising shute differently and at least got some benefit. Actually the cruising shute gave me one of my more difficult moments in PB2005 coming out of Lymington towards the Needles at the start. With very light winds I was watching everyone else sail off whilst trying to coax some life out of the shute: the wind suddenly picked up near the Needles and the snap shackle was flicked off the sheet. I reattached it, returned to the cockpit and it flicked off again (I’d very decoratively intertwined a small piece of string to help release the snap shackle but now realise it flicks the snap shackle open if it touches anything!). By now it was quite windy, my autopilot was tracking wide arcs and I couldn’t reattach the snap shackle so I decided to bring the shute down before deploying the genoa. Mistake. One-third down the sock wrapped around the forestay. I unravelled it and the sock then jammed on one of the lazy jack fittings on the mast. The sock tore free (literally, and I hated that!) and I looked around to see a very large freighter bearing down on me. Under mainsail only, I sailed clear and out of the channel to then notice breaking waves and realised I had gone into very shallow water. Regained the channel and a little later regained my composure.

The leg to Cherbourg was eventful mainly for other reasons, most especially Simon on Voador, and then John on Fresh Herring getting a fouled prop whilst becalmed in the shipping lane. John gave a good demonstration of how useful the AIS radar receiver can be in identifying vessels where there is a collision risk, and ought to claim some commission from the company! There was one conversation when John alerted a ship bearing down on him and which went something like: watch leader responding to John’s alert – “Yes, what do you require of me?” John – “Well, I’d like you to miss me … please …”, watch leader, after a pause, “Ok”. Generous of him, I thought!

Lesson two: very pleased with the way I managed tides, but what’s better is not to be out there so long that managing tides becomes such a requirement to finishing race legs! Never been through the Alderney Race before and the 12.4 knots I did at one stage on the second leg to St. Peter’s Port, in such deceptively calm-looking water, was impressive. I went very high as we came around Cap de la Hague, so much so that I contemplated lunch in Braye Harbour, but when the tide turned I was still able to make the Little Russell with only a couple of frustrating tacks. The wind, fortunately, picked up as I approached the Little Russell so that although the tide was against me - I was reading 7.2 knots but only 4.3 over the ground - I was able to make the line, and I was in time for the buffet at the Guernsey Yacht Club.

Chillout! and other boats still 'in sight' while there was wind

Treguier was another leg that started well. I was always pleased to keep other boats in sight while there was wind, but when the wind dropped everyone else seemed to continue over the horizon while I wallowed. Anticipating and using the tide was again important in finishing the Treguier leg (got a bottle of wine for that!). Very impressed with Simon on Voador rejoining us for the leg, and winning it, quite a fellow. Scratched the side of Red Rider coming onto the marina pontoon – damn, I was not impressed with that and especially as I knew about and have handled the difficult conditions at Treguier marina a few times before. This incident was probably a factor in my decision the next day to take the easy option and turn Red Rider around using ropes and the empty berth next to me, rather than motoring off, so that I would be facing into the tide when leaving. Lesson 3: there are no “easy options” when you think there are. Graham from “Equilibrium” helped me turn Red Rider but, unfortunately, I was laughing so much at the way he was wobbling with a rope at the end of the short finger pontoon (he looked like a manic puppet on strings, and I’m laughing now at the memory!) that I fell in and gashed my shin on the edge of the pontoon. Graham put a bandage on and persuaded me to visit the local doctor who, to Graham’s horror because he wanted it back, cut the bandage off and put four stitches in my leg.

The next leg to Plymouth started with us all motoring in convoy. I know we would have preferred to sail but there was no wind and we did look impressive as a group. Mind you, as a poor swimmer, I was a bit worried when people started going into the water to clear their fouled props. For a horrible moment, I thought it was some sort of ritual self-punishment when there was no wind and was relieved to find it wasn’t mentioned in the race instructions! Lesson 4: a compact group of 20+ yachts wards off fishing boats - it’s about the first time I’ve been in the channel at night without being bothered by erratic fishing boats, so I reckon we must have had them worried. Lesson 5, also on that leg, was the success of my first trial at using a kitchen timer to give brief, safe 10 minute snatches of sleep when needed so my sleep management was pretty good. The sea start in the early hours when the wind picked up was very interesting and for several hours there was good sailing until the wind again dropped a few miles short of Plymouth. Very frustrating. Lesson 6: gnashing of teeth and swearing does not bring wind into the sails, I really need to manage no-wind situations better. I tweaked everything I could and roasted in the hot sun (but, anticipating tides again, I drifted in the right direction!).

One of the 'close-ups' of the Eddystone

The leg to Falmouth, after a night of thunderstorms and heavy rain, gave me the opportunity to see the Eddystone lighthouse much closer than I have ever done before. Lesson 7: when Jerry light-heartedly warns you about something, take it very seriously! Jerry suggested at the briefing the previous evening not to use the Eddystone as a race mark as in “racing round the cans” and that should have made me suspect that it was going to act as some sort of a magnet - it did! The wind was very light and despite allowing what I thought was a safe distance off, the Eddystone seemed to draw me in. I kept taking a “close-up” photo of the lighthouse, each time thinking this was the closest I would get but had taken six by the time I rounded it, all of which were unnecessary as by then I had a very detailed image of the lighthouse etched on my brain! From the Eddystone to Falmouth the wind picked up and by the time I was approaching Falmouth on a close beat I had a reef in and a shortened genoa – and two other boats still in sight! Never been to Mylor before - a very welcoming yacht club.

The day race on the last day was beset by light winds and I drifted over the finishing line. Herman from “Nan” had tried to share a “light airs” tip as my lesson 8 – “You have to keep some shape in the sail. So, I sit on the boom and spread my arms and legs out as far as they will go, and this allows the sail to catch some wind”. Was he having me on?! I had a mental image of him looking as though he had been cannon-balled into his mainsail, and the puzzled look of others if they went by. Did I try this technique on that final leg? Well, ok, I admit I did sit on the boom and I sort of spread my arms a little bit, but I was too busy checking to make sure no-one was looking or taking a photo to notice whether it helped my boat speed! I later learned on the same leg that Herman had not tried this technique but had poled out his genoa instead … hmmm, I’m a bit suspicious …

The race results on the PB2005 section give one answer to the question “how did you do?” What they don’t reflect is the chance and pleasure I had to see quality racing boats sailed well, that I managed to finish every race leg, that I learnt an enormous amount and that I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Every race leg had periods of good wind, fickle wind and very little wind, which made them all the more testing. Those who did well did so on merit and good for them. I’ve come away with more than a few ideas for improving performance (personally and equipment-wise!), a yearning for more single-handed racing, and some great memories of fellow competitors whom I hope to meet again. Well done to Paul, Jerry and Martin for organising a great week.

Neil Matson.
Red Rider.