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(Houston, TX)- The J/120 SHEARWATER recently finished the last 2013 Rum
Race on Galveston Bay hosted by GBCA. Rum races are a somewhat informal
Saturday evening pursuit race where boats start in reverse order of
their PHRF rating. Owned by Chris and Justin she has already been
sailed across the the Atlantic from Porto, Portugal. Covering over
5,000nm this double handed crew intends to ultimately sail the Pacific
Cup to Hawaii. Here is the report of their experience sailing the
Harvest Moon Regatta.
“A week ago last Thursday was the annual Harvest Moon Regatta from
Galveston to Port Aransas (150 miles). As far as I can tell this is the
biggest regatta in Texas with over 170 entrants this year. For us, it
was fine preparation for Pacific Cup. An opportunity to actually race,
sail with the spinnaker at night, steer (no autopilots allowed), and
equip the boat for a Cat 3 offshore race. From that perspective the
race was a raging success as we ticked all the boxes and then some.
My parents drove down from Arkansas to join Chris & I on this little
adventure. Thanks Mom & Dad, we couldn’t have done it without you,
literally, as the race organizers required a minimum of 4 people on
board. As it turns out, 4 people on a J/120, racing downwind,
overnight, with no autopilot, is a skeleton crew at best. We were
w-o-r-n o-u-t by the time we reached Port Aransas Friday afternoon.
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As
the forecast solidified in the days leading up to the start it looked
very likely we would be running or reaching with the spinnaker the
entire race. With a downwind race in mind, we did everything we could
to lighten up Shearwater, even taking two doors off down below (class
legal). With a light ship and only 4 onboard (we figure we were 1000
pounds lighter from just crew weight alone), that was pretty much the
one advantage we might have had over the other two far more experienced
J/120’s we were racing against. We were also classed with a J/44 and a
Beneteau First 44.7, making us the slowest boat in our 5-boat division
and conversely the 5th fastest rated monohull in the race. We rate 3
seconds slower than the other two J/120’s because we have an aluminum
mast, and they have carbon masts.
Heading out of Clear Lake into Galveston Bay Thursday morning was a
trip. There was a line of sailboats heading out to the Gulf for as far
as you could see in front of and behind us. It was an impressive
parade. It was made better by the strong northerly that allowed us to
sail along (and past) the fleet while trying out or new A4 spinnaker for
the first time. It had just arrived from Ballard Sails in Washington
the day before.
For once, the forecasts weren’t too far off. We started out Thursday
afternoon in a light N-NE’ly expecting the breeze to strengthen and
clock to the east overnight. Being in the fastest division we were the
last of the monohulls to start. That provided with approximately 135
rabbits to chase out of the gate. Much too our delight Shearwater was
moving really well with the big A2/K2 spinnaker, and we quickly moved
through the fleet favoring the shore, allowing us to sail over the top
of the fleet in clear air. By sundown we had passed everyone in the
fleet except the other two J/120’s and a feathery light Viper 830.
Hugging the coast seemed to pay, perhaps with a little more breeze or
perhaps because we ended up on the correct side of the slowly clocking
breeze. Just as it got dark we gybed onto port, passed very close to
the Freeport Buoy and set our course offshore with no real intentions of
gybing again until the next morning. It turns out we were fine and
fast in a straight line, but our gybes with the big chute must have
looked like a circus with the tent falling down. Complete disasters, so
we resolved to minimize the suffering and wait until morning to try
more circus antics.
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So, off we went into the not so dark, dark, with the biggest, brightest
harvest moon you could imagine. Our only challenge was the wave, wind
combination. It seems the wind speed around 10-15 knots and our boat
speed around 6.5-8 knots caused the apparent wind to constantly shift
back & forth, back & forth, resulting in us zig-zagging our way
like drunken sailors across the ocean. Apparently, this wasn’t a bad
way to roll as we crossed ahead of Kenai, the J/44, that owed us about
45 minutes. Then around 2am we crossed ahead of Cyrano, the First 44.7,
and they also owed us about 45 minutes. We had also closed down on
Aeolus the J/120 we’d been following since leaving the shore. It seemed
most of the boats were headed back towards the shore while we carried
on south. At 2:45am a friend took a screenshot of the SPOT tracker and
as you can see, things were looking quite promising. We were very much
in the hunt, which all things considered (so little recent race
experience, and a shorthanded crew… my parents had only been on
Shearwater one time previously) was a bit of a surprise.
Then at 3am, while I was driving in pretty benign conditions, averaging
close to 8 knots, a bigger than average header caused the spinnaker to
luff. I didn’t drive down quick enough, the chute collapsed, and then
proceeded to wrap itself around the forestay, really, really well.
Shit. Just a momentary lapse and we were up a creek. Chris and I both
went forward, clipped to the jacklines to try and unwrap the chute from
the forestay. Unfortunately, our new spotlight clearly showed that the
bottom of the spinnaker had wrapped one way and the top had wrapped the
other way, so even though we could unwrap the bottom of the sail, the
top part firmly clamped down on it making it impossible for it to fully
unwrap. How this is possible from only the wind that is only blowing
from one general direction is beyond me. Of course, the bottom of the
sail was still trying to fill in the now increasing breeze, at times
lifting me off the deck. Standing together at the mast, allowing the
main to blanket the spinnaker, we came upon some semblance of a
solution. Working together we started twisting the bottom of the sail,
wrapping it, and wrapping it, and wrapping it. We twisted until our
arms hurt so much we couldn’t twist anymore, then we started taking
turns while the other rested. Eventually (45-60 minutes later?) we had
the bottom 40 feet of spinnaker in a long tight snake. We must have
wrapped the sail 100-150 times (it took us forever to unwrap it again
after the race). The benefit was the sail was no longer catching the
wind and we could hang onto it without being drug around the foredeck.
Now what? The top of the sail was still wrapped around the forestay.
It was now 4:15am and we were dog tired. The only thing we could think
of was to release the spin halyard and try to pull down the sail. If
that didn’t work we’d have to climb the mast, release the spin halyard
shackle and unwrap the top, in-the-dark, in-the-waves, in the now
increasing wind (gusts over 20). Not a fun prospect. We released the
halyard and… nothing. We pulled and shook and pulled and nothing
happened. We stopped, stared up at the situation for a bit, and then a
little miracle happened, the spinnaker started to slide down the
forestay. It seems once we stopped pulling the wraps got loose enough
for the sail to release its death-grip on the furled genoa. After a few
stops and starts we had the spinnaker safely below without resorting to
climbing the mast or using a knife. It took us 1.5 hours, but we got
it down with no damage. That was some sort of accomplishment.
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Chris
and I were whipped though. We could barely move. We both collapsed in
the cockpit and settled on sailing with the main only until it started
getting light. Our competitive race was over, but we decided (okay, I
was forced – isn’t that like mutiny?) to continue racing nonetheless.
Around 6:30am I got the brand spanking new A4 (smaller, heavier) kite
rigged up and ready to hoist. A round of discussions ensued regarding
the wind speed and amount of light. That killed another 20 minutes or
so and then we all agreed to go for the A4. Once it was up, we were off
like a shot. The bright orange A4 was in its element with 20-30 knots
on the stern. We started averaging 9.5 knots for several SPOT updates,
with some pretty nice surfs up to 12 knots. It wasn’t exactly smooth
sailing though as the waves were pretty steep and I was having to steer
all over the place to keep from plowing into the backside of a wave and
to keep up with the shifty breeze. And then, much like the collapse
with the A2 earlier, I didn’t react fast enough and we managed to
hourglass the A4. Fortunately, it wasn’t around the forestay. We ended
up just staring this one down. We held our course, kept the sheet
steady, kept the chute full, and slowly, but surely, the hourglass
started working its way up until shazaam it unwrapped. Phew!
It was now 8:30am we’d been flying since putting up the A4, noticeably
stretching out on a few boats that had closed on us while we sailed
under main only, and we’d reached the point where we needed to gybe over
to starboard to head for the finish. Did I mention how tired we were?
And it was hooting. And we were gun shy from our terrible gybes the
previous evening and the two spinnaker wraps. We decided to sock the A4
first, then gybe, but once we got the sock down over the sail, I think
we were so relieved that we made it this far without damage or injury
that we just gybed and carried on with main only. As I reflect back on
the race, I wish we’d had just partially snuffed the A4, or unfurled the
genoa slightly and gone ahead and gybed. I’m sure it would have worked
out fine, but we were so tired at that point, it was hard to see the
merit of pushing on.
We ended up crossing the line right at noon, only 21 hours after the
start. We finished right in the midst of the 90 raters (we rate 51) and
about 2 hours after the other two J/120’s. It turns out Cyrano, the
First 44.7, wrapped their spinnaker around the forestay too, with less
success getting it down without damage, so we corrected out ahead them,
taking 4th in our division. Overall, I think we corrected out to
mid-fleet. Not bad considering we sailed about 7.5 hours with no
spinnaker, but a bit bitter sweet considering where we were at 2:45am
according to the SPOT tracker.
Harvest Moon was really beneficial for our Pacific Cup preparations though. We learned that:
- we need a spinnaker net – no more spinnaker wraps around the forestay
- we want a smaller A2 spinnaker, something slightly bigger than the
A4 and lighter cloth. The big A2 is just a handful short-handed. Look
at this picture of us and two J/105’s that are only 5’ shorter than us.
Our spinnaker is literally twice as big as what the J/105’s are
flying. We’ll get a better rating for Pac Cup too.
- We need to practice gybing with the spinnaker partially snuffed
and/or use the genoa to blanket the spinnaker a little during douses and
maneuvers.
- When we aren’t messing it up Shearwater has plenty of pace. No worries about boat speed now.
- Sailing/racing with an autopilot is a heck of a lot easier,
especially when shorthanded. Thankfully, autopilots are allowed for us
in Pacific Cup.
Funny story about the awards on Saturday night. First, it takes a long
time to give out awards for 170 boats divided into about 30 divisions.
Second, Chris won the essay contest about what we did to keep our ocean
clean during the race (throw nothing overboard, motor very little, keep
black water in the holding tank, etc) which earned her a $100 gift
certificate to West Marine. That was worth significantly more than the
race awards. I think there is some irony in that. It made us laugh
anyway.
Shearwater remains in Port Aransas for a few weeks and then we will
watch the weather and pick a good weekend to sail back to Seabrook. We
will likely use a bit of the ICW between Freeport and Galveston Bay as
that cuts off some miles and will allow us to stop overnight to sleep.
Next weekend we are off to San Francisco to attend a two-day Safety at Sea Seminar. Really looking forward to that.” You can
follow Justin and Chris sailing their J/120 here on their “Shearwater Blog”. For
more information about sailing the J/120 class