I knowwwwwwww. I know. Believe me, I know. Everyone proclaims to hate J/24 sailing, but listen to what I have to say. See, I raced on Paul Van Ravenswaay’s MILLENNIUM FALCON (#5350) from Annapolis in the J24 Midwinters at Davis Island Yacht Club and also in the St. Pete NOODs the following weekend. We pretty much raced that J/24 for 9 days straight, and it was excellent training. Yes, I got really bruised. Yes, I was really freaking cold. Yes, I’m pretty sure my organs began to liquefy. But it’s all good. I had an opportunity to race in a competitive one-design fleet, so I took it. And let me tell you about the competition:
The J/24 fleet in Tampa and St. Pete was laden with some of the top guys in the class and even the industry, which proved to be tough racing. As a relative newcomer to the class, I didn’t have as much to offer as guys like Charlie Enright, Tim Healy, Will Welles, Tony Parker, Chris Snow, or Chuck Allen, but they were all nonetheless encouraging and the fleet as a whole created a great environment for one-design sailing. I also have to mention Brian and Kat Malone for acting as both hosts and competitors, and I would like to congratulate Charlie Enright and crew for winning the 2010 J/24 Midwinters. In the end, it was the perfect event for honing skills, opening my season, challenging the crew, and getting out of the snow-covered North.
After getting used to the boat and the crew (Paul Van Ravenswaay, Mike Zinkgraf, Eric Haneberg, Jarrett Hering – a great group from Annapolis), I really started to learn more and get a little more aggressive in my role. I wanted to contribute to the team, but I also was completely out of my sportboat comfort zone. See, the J/24 has this thing called a “cabin-top” to crawl over during tacks, and that alone was a pretty big feat. I honestly think I’ve low-crawled through Army infiltration courses that had more clearance than the J/24. Once or twice, I actually had to be pulled across by my crew, which was a pretty big blow to my ego. I even think at one point I screamed like a little girl when I found myself caught on leeward with no chance of pulling myself to the other side. That was hilarious. But, I can adapt and overcome what I have to, so what I once said about TP-52 sailing also applies to the J/24; “A boat is a boat, and I can do at least that much.” I figured it out.
Here is another way to learn something on the water: While rounding the top mark, get hit really hard on your port side by the bow of a leeward J/24. It’ll put a nice chunk of a hole in your hull, and you’ll have to figure something out about your boat, and quick! This happened to us at the NOOD regatta, and we had to retire from the race to address the puncture wound. Thankfully the hole was nicely above the waterline, so Eric made some quick work with the duct tape, and we were able to compete in the last 2 races of the day. We hauled the boat out afterwards, and Mike did an overnight fiberglass job to get us back out on the water. Honestly, we probably should have all left our fenders on, especially those last 2 days. There was a lot of bumper-boat action out there. J/24 sailors are a scrappy bunch, eh? At times, I came out of a race feeling like we had been in a bar fight. It was aggressive, and I liked it that way. (By the way, no hard feelings to the boat that hit us, considering they actually sailed very well otherwise. We all know that accidents happen, and we all know that it’s a part of the learning process. Adapt and overcome, you know!? Oh, and props to Tim Healy sailing his J/24 for the overall win of the St. Pete NOOD regatta.
So, now I am exhausted, dehydrated, and bruised, but I’m also a lot more proficient and I had a lot of fun. A racer CANNOT move to upper levels of sailing without learning the basics first. Just don't do it. I had to learn how to shoot a rifle before I could learn how to shoot a grenade launcher, and I wore an expert marksman badge in both at one point. It’s not different in sailing. J/24 racing is a great way to sharpen skills. Next step: BOR 90 … ??? Haha, just kidding. Much love, Katie Burns