I made it back on the water this weekend on Long Island Sound racing aboard Rima2 a Reichel/Pugh 55 based out of Stamford, CT. Having spent some time on boats of that size, I certainly knew what to expect, but in reality it was one of the first times I had been given total responsibility for tactical decisions and no more. Not having to worry about helming thanks to owner John Brim, and not having to worry about navigation and timing thanks to Ed Cesare and Molly Baxter, I was able to just put my head into the tactical challenge of getting a boat faster than the rest of the fleet through slower traffic.
The 55-footer was slightly bigger and better equipped than most of the boats in our class, so we spent much of the weekend racing against the clock, which is certainly a concept I’m not all that accustomed to. Getting off the starting line very well twice and clearing nicely in the third race, I was quite pleased with the fact that we got the boat pointed in the direction we planned to go each of the three first beats. The difficult part of racing is then to get the crew and the boat re-focused on getting into the speed groove, minimizing the number of turns, and staying out of traffic as much as possible so that we could maximize our time spent at full-speed. In one-design racing, tactical decision-making is so often focused on positioning and boat to boat interaction. Both of those ideas balanced with a focus on boatspeed make one-design racing the multifaceted sport that we love. IRC and PHRF racing is an entirely different animal where ratings become such a large part of the mentality that it can be hard to switch the rounded tactical mindset into one centered on positioning the boat in places where it’s speed can be maximized. It took me a few legs to realize that was the biggest factor.
The breeze was light as we headed out and quickly built to about fifteen knots ahead of forecasted rain. Unfortunately, the boat’s mast was tuned for the forecasted range of 4-8 knots and in the first couple races I think we were slightly slow because of the complacency to stay with that setting instead of hurrying to fix it. Regardless, we got off the line well in the first race, pulled out to leeward of the group, tacked, crossed and centered up on the racecourse ultimately making a commitment to fewer tacks and the upper right side of the racecourse. Unsure of the layline capabilities of the boat, I let Ed call the first couple laylines and tried my best to confirm his calls. A small left in the last few hundred yards to the mark really left us pinching into the first top mark. We sailed the starboard tack header down the run and ultimately gybed a bit shy of the port tack layline and had to sail deeper than optimal for the last bit of that leg as well. We corrected the mistake for the next lap, but overall had great boathandling from the group allowing me to make calls through the traffic of the other two fleets and finish very close to the next two boats on time. I learned very quickly how sailing those less-than-optimal angles for any amount of time can be detrimental in the IRC/PHRF formats. For the rest of the day I felt the need to be a bit more conservative and go a little deeper before committing to tacking. Ultimately, sailing fatter into marks was a better play for the boat, but learning that nuance took a racing context to really understand.
One of the big lessons I learned by simply being in the tactician role was to be louder and more vocal to the rest of the crew as necessary. On board our boat, the helmsman’s role was one to make the boat go straight and make its maneuvers as quickly and smoothly as possible. There was very little need for any coaching through the turns, even in traffic. But once I had thought the next few moves through in my head, consulted the navigator, and talked over the helmsman’s shoulder so he could start visualizing what was going to happen, it was then my role to relay those plans to the rest of the ten guys forward so that they could have time to work out their next move, ask questions if necessary and properly prepare for the upcoming maneuver. We had a choice at one point to go with a flatter reaching sail for a triangle course that the race committee set for us instead of the regular windward-leewards. In the only boat-handling issue of the day, that sail went up with only the head and tack attached leaving the sheets slack on the deck and the clew whipping out to leeward as we burned off our speed down the first reach. Knowing that I had to be in a more vocal role, it was my position on the boat to call the mast man to “Hold” before dropping the jib, allowing us to at least have two sails up for the rest of the time down the leg before we could pull up the bigger spinnaker.
We had a couple of classic, tactician v. helmsman conversations through the weekend where I asked him to put the boat through a gap that he wasn’t sure we could shoot, or tacking across a boat he wasn’t sure we could cross, but all in all it was a very satisfying experience where the boat went where I knew the boat could go. One situation in particular impressed me. We were approaching the windward mark in the midst of a J122 clump. We were on the port layline with the leader of their group, just ahead on the starboard layline. Making the call that we could not lee-bow effectively, I pushed the team to hold on port, and follow the transom of the J boat into a tack. As soon as we tacked, I snuck down to leeward to get a view of the afterguard of the boat ahead. With about 200 yards left into the mark, he motioned to me that he wanted us to go through them to leeward so that we wouldn’t roll them or be hoisting directly on top of their breeze as we both turned down the run. Considering he was leading his group, I would have wanted the same thing. I love when rational people can successfully communicate with each other with one wave of the hand. When I came back up to the rail and let our helmsman know the next play, he took a double take and asked me if I was serious. I let our jib man know we were going to crack of and foot to leeward of the boat ahead. We broke through their bad air in about a boatlength’s time, and rounded the mark just bow-ahead.
In another case, we had been sailing on starboard for quite some time and two slower J44s were going to cross us from the left side of the racecourse. From a long distance out, I could see that they would be in play, but that their crosses would be close. The last thing I wanted was a short lee-bow from a J44, the last thing the driver of the J44 wanted was to have to leebow a 55-footer and get rolled, or be forced to take a massive duck. To ease his tensions about the close situation, I made eye contact from a few hundred feet out and waved them across. Only at that point did I tell our helmsman that there were a couple boats coming across our bow. There was never any need for change of course on either boat, but often hyper-tension at the wheel leads to irrational action. The boats crossed without trouble and we were able to keep the boat going upwind at optimum VMG.
Monday Morning Tactician Says: It’s always good to have a bit of conversation going between competitors around the racecourse. Often sailboats only talk to each other when there is a foul or in some tense situation. I find that most of the time its worthwhile to have the other boat know your intentions, more often than not they are parallel to your competitor’s.
The quick summary of the weekend is that I was impressed by the cohesiveness and fluidity of the crew onboard Rima2. I think the group was well rehearsed and well prepared for the situations that we got into, and in that sense it was great to be able to step into the tactician’s seat. There were some communication items that we overcame as well as some improved understanding of the rating-style of sailing, but all in all a good experience for me. I’m really looking forward to more sailing like it, next step is finding somebody who’ll have me on board.
Photo from this weekend
(I’m behind the helmsman with the brown hat)
Next on the agenda is the move up the hill here in Washington DC to a slightly bigger place. Next week the entire US Olympic Team has been invited to attend a reception at the White House, I guess now that Mr Bush has submitted his version of the market-recovery-plan, he’s just going to host the team for the next couple of months until he’s out of office. Looming on the horizon is the Melges 24 North Americans to be held in Annapolis at the Eastport Yacht Club. Can’t wait to get racing there.
