Race report from Chris Morton, Jester, J 88
Leg 1 - Cowes to St Vaast
The forecast running up to the weekend promised great weather and got it bang on. Starting at Gurnard at 1700, we had the tide with us and a puffy sea breeze on the beam. Some flew code zeros but Jester hastily threw up the A5. We had a blast to the forts until as usual the wind backed at Ryde and it was back to white sails.
Just pipped to Bembridge by Ed Sneddon on the Farrier F36, Solan Goose, the wind settled into an 8-10 knot south westerly and the fleet compressed. It was the kind of night we dream of, not too cold, not too dark, with fabulous stars. As we sailed on our chosen routes, Jester and Kitty jousted all night.
As light returned, the remaining fleet appeared on AIS uptide of us and bombing around Barfleur. The wind was now turning a bit light but held on to give a close finish. The larger faster boats doing what they do best, “Step On” competing in his first offshore solo race showed us how it’s done, with a close pack of Jester, Pyxis (X332, Kirsteen Donaldson) and Kitty (A31, David Bright) all seeing Le Gavendest finish line in short order. Jester was very happy with our position, although as usual IRC is a cruel mistress to us lightweights, the IRC bandit Salamander (Sigma 33, Juan Moreno) bring home the silverware. St Vaast was very welcoming to the race fleet and after a quick shuteye a good lunch was had.
Leg 2 - St Vaast – Îles Saint-Marcouf – St Vaast
As the wind for Sunday's race was due to be light, plan was to shoot out of the lock as it opened, gate start, around the Îsles Saint Marcouf and back. The weather and race couldn't have been more perfect, a beat with a few tacks to the islands, a short blast with the A5 and a reach to the finish, Steve on Azora took line honours, just relentless upwind. The usual trio of Kitty, Jester and Pyxis followed.
Another good lunch was had on Kitty, followed by an early prize giving so we could make use of (drink) the winnings.
Leg 3 - St Vaast to Solent
A spinnaker home run home was promised but the reality was little wind. After 1½ h motoring searching for the breeze, our off-wind start turned out to be quite competitive but Jester got away cleanly. Aching to hoist the kite, we let the wind settle just forward of our sweet spot. Others hosted code zeros, Azora (C&C 115, Steve Thomas) and Step On (Sunfast 3200 R2, Mark Emons) shot off but, on a slightly different trajectory, Pyxis went for it, Solan Goose on rails and reacher, Kitty, Jester and Salamander staying on white sails, higher and closer to our planned course. It was relentlessly hot and sunny, plenty of hydration and sun screen needed. Jester had a lovely visit from a pod of porpoise, just to the NE of the conservation area.
Our course shaped up perfectly to be swept up the east of the island to Bembridge. The plan would have worked perfectly had the wind not headed and dropped just at the wrong time. Meanwhile Pyxis nudged ahead and, as I wallowed, Salamander was charging up from behind. All of a sudden, I was in bandit country but thankfully the wind allowed Jester and Pyxis to jostle all the way past No Man's Land Fort. The wind went behind, yet again Pyxis showed her superior tactics and out gybed me to the finish, not the welcoming quick flash of North Sturbridge cardinal but a black unlit monolith looming out of the darkness. The Solent at night became the biggest challenge of the race as Jester came close to colliding with several unlit marks.
A heartfelt thanks to our small but perfectly formed fleet for a fabulous four days of racing.
Mark Emons shares his experience of racing solo to France for the first time on his Sunfast 3200 R2 Step On
Ahead of this race I’d been practising solo sailing to make sure I wasn’t about to attempt something stupid or unsafe. I’d learnt that there were some adaptations required from being doublehanded, but in essence I was comfortable with the mechanics of solo sailing. However, I had no idea if I could be competitive, what solo sailing the boat in race conditions would be like and whether I could pace myself over the distance to make sensible and safe decisions. Fatigue was a worry.
I set goals for every race, some are harder to achieve than others, but for this race my goals would simply be to finish with myself and the boat in good health irrespective of results, and ideally have fun while doing it too. Being super conservative in my approach was the mindset.
Leg 1 - Solent to St Vaast La Hougue
Well ahead of the amended 1700 start time I found myself going through my usual pre-race routines ahead of the east bound start. The weather models all giving reassuringly consistent results in Expedition, tick. Identity gate procedure, tick. Solent exit plan, tick. Practising timed runs for the start at the Lisburne line, tick. "Crew" fed and watered, tick. Appropriate sails plugged in and ready to go, tick. Tick, tick, tick went my checklist…I felt like I might just have a plan of attack to manage this race despite not having the usual company to validate and, importantly, execute it.
Alas, this preparedness left spare mental capacity which proved to be an unexpected challenge. Is the S2 definitely the right sail to start, I inexplicably asked myself? Yes, it is. Did the wind just shift? No, it didn’t. What if I’m OCS? You’ve read the SIs 15 times. Which way is east? Did I leave the oven on? Suddenly a tsunami of unhelpful questions in my head distracted me, nerves set in, and then bang goes the starting gun - I’m very far away from the start line. Damn it, not the best start to my solo adventure!
I remind myself that results are not the goal here. I mentally reset, and just try to go as fast as I can, ideally in the correct direction… and wow did the boat respond. Once the pre-prepared S2 went up (I fortunately decided a sail change here and now wasn’t the greatest idea after all) she went off like a scalded cat. Plus, she knew where East was!
All classes started together and with me being one of the “faster” boats, by the time we reached Osborne Bay I’d caught the back markers. And the boat just seemed to have more speed to give so I started to pick my way through the fleet. I’d noticed the front runners up ahead getting over powered near Ryde, so I reminded myself to be on my toes, but 100% hand steering the starts out of doublehanded habit meant I couldn’t get to the sheets quick enough when the inevitable gusts came. A rounding up ensued, and while fairly short lived, it was enough to alarm the A31 “Kitty” to windward of me (apologies were made afterwards, and very graciously accepted). A new lesson was learnt here on solo versus doublehanded!
I knew there was good depth to pass well south of No Man’s Land Fort to minimise the distance, and we’d be closer on the wind to get down to the mark at Bembridge Ledge, but I wasn’t sure the S2 would appreciate the new TWA. So out of an abundance of caution I gambled and dropped the kite maybe a little early in favour of the light jib. Reassuringly for my confidence the fleet did the same, and now we were in a really good spot to put pressure on the leaders.
Just ahead of me were the aforementioned Kitty and the J/88 Jester which I’d noted beforehand as boats of sort-of-similar-ish performance to my Sun Fast 3200 “Step On” (Steppy to her friends). This could be a fun three way battle I thought, while also reminding myself that I had a game plan and not to forget it!
Instantly forgetting the game plan and overcome with the excitement of chasing down other boats, by the time we got to the Bembridge mark I was right on their tails but not really in a position to make a move at passing them. This was only the “first leg” of this race, so I resolved to be patient and try to use my speed to get past them once we were in the more open water of the English Channel.
And then I re-remembered my game plan, we were all sailing a fractionally more westerly course than I had planned for. So rather than get into a boat-on-boat fight for position, which will inevitably slow all three of us down relative to the rest of the fleet, I could just sail low and fast and go under them both.
Soon I found myself at the front of the fleet, with the trimaran Solan Goose for company a mile or so to leeward. Through lack of experience of being at the front, on the rare occasion it does happen, I usually get a form of stage fright. Self-doubt can creep in here, but I had a stern word with myself (again missing the second opinion of a co-skipper here) and said out loud “you have a plan, stick to it”.
That plan was about positioning myself well to maximise the east-going tides at Barfleur at sunrise the following day. If I got it right, I could slip into the back eddy that forms close in shore at Gatteville Lighthouse just before the main east going flow sets in, possibly shortening the miles covered, definitely getting a jump on those that don’t get into it. So, I grab a snack (a hard-boiled egg, a sausage roll and a Wispa - high performance stuff!) and settle in to drive and trim the boat through the night with total focus on reaching the boat’s polar speeds as often as possible.
AIS is wonderful thing. What it’s done to improve the safety of vessels at sea is fantastic. And for the yacht racer, it’s a great source of real time intel on your competitors. But it can be your enemy too. Salamander, the Sigma 33, "he’s got great SOG, what’s he doing that I’m not?" Pyxis, the X332, "is sailing a different COG than me, what does she know that I’ve missed?" are the questions it brings. My brain isn’t able to process all that AND drive the boat anywhere near to its maximum simultaneously, so I decided to just keep loose tabs on them all, in case those whizzy Expedition “solutions” weren’t actually so good after all and stick to the plan! Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan.
During this race I also wanted to test out sleeping as a solo. Getting some rest as double-handers is pretty straightforward, but I knew my decision making would be impacted by fatigue, and that could affect my goals for this race. I’d never done it before as a solo, and the natural concerns about watch keeping were very present in my head. But I’d prepared for this, I’d sought lots of advice, so the AIS & wind shift alarms were on full volume, and a vibrating timer app was set on my phone which was placed under my clothes and directly on my chest (a tip I’d read online!). Set for 10mins (another online tip) and the beanbag was my whole world for a short while. I could grab these power naps whenever I needed and not be away from the cockpit for too long and it definitely helped freshen me up. Another Wispa bar and a can of iced coffee at 0300 helped too, very luxurious!
It was a very dark but clear night, the stars out in all their grandeur. Eventually the sky to the east started to change colour as the sunlight started to emerge and the lights my charts told me to expect began to appear ahead of me out of the darkness. This was where I’d find out if my plan was solid… or made of custard!
Sure enough, I was where I hoped to be and the instruments were telling me the tide was pushing me around the north east corner of the Cherbourg peninsula and towards the finish, with increasing speed. With the morning came the forecasted drop in wind strength but this strong tide was creating an apparent wind to help compensate.
Yet another check of the AIS confirmed I was pulling away from most of the fleet. It also confirmed that Azora, the C&C 115, had had the same plan. I’d forgotten all about him, and now he’s chasing me down as I’d chased the others earlier. How the tables had turned! I also had Solan Goose still to my left but now much closer.
So, this was it, 6nm to the finish, and I just have to keep myself between these two and the finish for line honours. Wait, what did I just say to myself… LINE HONOURS!?!? Another check of the AIS and a double check with my own eyes, sure enough I could not see anyone in front of me. Oh, now the pressure is on, don’t mess this up, these things don’t happen very often! (The reader may also note my original goals for this race seem have been long forgotten here.)
OK, it’s time for a new plan, stay in the best tide, don’t hit any rocks, and get eyes on Le Gavendest cardinal finishing mark ASAP! Aside from a very badly calculated lay line resulting in a couple of extra tacks, I just about managed to fend off my pursuers.
What an incredible and unexpected outcome, I had managed to get a class win and 3rd overall. This wasn’t in the plan at all!
With the effects of the iced coffee running low and adrenaline subsiding, fatigue began to creep in. While I readied the boat for the lock opening at St Vaast, it suddenly dawned on me that this might not be the best introduction to a new group of friends - the stranger turning up and doing well as a first timer out maybe isn't the most polite approach? Fortunately, my fears were completely mislaid, and I was made to feel part of the gang as we shared war stories over lunch in the beautiful setting of St Vaast La Hougue.
Leg 2 - Day Race Around Ile de Terre
Well, talk about crashing down from a high! Fatigue had been a concern from the outset here, and while I seem to have managed it reasonably well through race 1, I completely forgot that fatigue doesn't end when the race does. With the lock open times at St Vaast being most definitely non-negotiable and light winds forecast, the RO wisely shortened the course to help make sure we could all re-enter before it closed. Even still, it was going to be tight on time to complete the shortened race. So, this weary sailor goes to bed the night before and doesn't charge his phone, the result being a missed alarm call and not enough time to get ready for the departure. Damn it! Another example of needing to get used to not having a co-skipper who maybe doesn't forget to charge their phone? From line honours to DNC in the blink of an eye. Another lesson learnt here.
Leg 3 - St Vaast to Solent
The race home was essentially a reverse of race 1, both on the charts and the weather. A very light ESE'ly welcomed the fleet as we made our way out of the lock at St Vaast, and with a pre-agreed competitor boat start giving flexibility to the plans, the decision was made to motor north in the hope of finding more breeze and helping to make sure everyone was home in good time after the bank holiday weekend. Fortunately, the weather gods smiled on us and we were soon off racing in brilliant sunshine and a steady F4. The weather models had suggested the wind would slowly go left through the day, before going back right again at around sunset. My routings suggested we'd be reaching the Bembridge area around then, so it would be a day for off-wind sails and watching for the changeover point to upwind sails in order to maintain the desired course.
I had left the port with the expectation of needing my trusty S2 again but, as we motored north, I started to think the Code 0 was going the be the better option. Sadly, I procrastinated about it for too long and come the start I was still midway through changing over sails. So, a better start than in race 1, and infinitely better than race 2, but still room for improvement in my decision making as a solo here.
As with many boats equipped with a Code 0, mine is probably one of the lesser used sails, so I'm not completely confident on its cross over points with the jibs and spinnakers on the various wind angles, but today was definitely its day and the boat resumed it's 'scalded cat mode' from race 1.
As the fleet settled into the early stages of the race, I soon found myself in familiar company with Azora behind and Solan Goose to my side. Juan on Salamander had the lowest TCC in the fleet and had taken a well-deserved overall win in race 1, so I knew that just because the others maybe out of sight, they should not be out of mind. I decided my best option was to get as much distance as possible on the rest of the fleet to give me a chance of success on corrected time at the end. I'd spotted Azora started with a Code 0 but switched out to a reaching kite soon afterward, his slow down during the changeover gave me a chance to put some distance between us, which I knew I'd need that later in the day when he inevitably got back to full speed and caught me up.
In a further symmetry to race 1, the tides on arrival at the Isle of Wight were going to be a key factor. My routing had suggested they would be foul on arrival but not far off switching to being in our favour on the south of the island for the approach to Bembridge. As we edged further north the ETAs became more accurate and, just like before, the possibility of a back eddy presented itself, this time between Ventnor and Luccombe. This was slightly to the east of where my current track would put me on arrival at the island, and by now the wind had indeed gone forwards and I was struggling to keep the Code 0 effective, so I chose to switch on to the jib and harden up significantly. I'd calculated this would allow me to catch that back eddy and cut around 2nm off my sailing distance.
Azora, now back on the Code 0 had the same idea.... here we go again I thought, I just have to keep myself between him and the finish. However, this time I was not as successful. Once rounding Bembridge it was back to the trusty S2 for a deep run up towards the forts and to the finish at North Sturbridge. With the light beginning to fade, and I was very conscious of the numerous unlit racing buoys off in the bay to my left, plus the very foul tide (and shipping) in the deeper waters to my right.
Suddenly this is where my "old friend" fatigue kicked in again... Damn it! Another rookie mistake, I'd not rested at all through the day, I'd become obsessed with getting distance on the fleet and forgotten about longevity. I became very disorientated in the darkness and wasn't at all confident of where I should tactically, or could safely, gybe. I ran though the options in my head. Caution won by a country mile and, rather than gybe, I would drop the kite and 'white sail' the remaining mile and half to the finish. If this meant Azora getting past me, then so be it, I didn't want to ruin what had been a brilliant weekend right at the last moment. And when a few minutes later the VHF crackled into life with Solan Goose advising the finishing mark was unlit I was completely ok with my decision making. Trying to find a dark thing in the dark, set against a myriad of other lights when tired isn't easy even with GPS!!
Solan Goose, Azora and I crossed the line in quick succession just before 2200 BST, I steered the boat for home and took a moment to mentally review the weekend. My goals were: to finish with myself and the boat in good health, tick. Have fun while doing so, tick. Be conservative in decision making, tick. But I had also learnt a lot more, and that was the real reward - I need to be better a managing fatigue over the long term as a solo, I am a far more competitive person than I like to admit and need to balance this with managing fatigue, there's more about my sailing style I need to adapt for soloing under race conditions.
The following morning the official results came in with a very pleasant surprise, another class win and second overall. All in all, this had been a very rewarding and enjoyable weekend. I'd met new friends, done new things in my sailing, and had immense fun while doing it. So, my thanks to all at SORC for organising the race and everything that goes with it behind the scenes, thanks to my competitors for putting up such a great challenge and being so welcoming, and congrats to Juan on Salamander for a great weekend of performances.
And for the AZAB question, I'll get back to you on that one... ;-)