DFL

I can play all the excuse cards I dealt Das Boot today:

• Crew absenteeism: missing both members of my foredeck crew because of vacation (or hang-overs?).That took our spinnaker out of the game.
• Replacement crew was composed of somebody's mother (a good photographer), neighboring boat owner (a good back-up driver) and a crew from another boat (excellent mainsheet trim).
• Totally late to the start line. (Yeah. That was a factor.)
• Blind-sided by wind change right after the start. Wind dropped from 18 to 10 and veered to the south long after I committed to the Kelp straits.
• Maybe too closely trimmed on beats. But that's who I am. I'd rather point than foot.

All-in-all an enjoyable day on the water. Especially for November.

Joe Barton Opposes Sailing?

Two Years Ago, Today

Santa Barbara Harbor from Kurt Raihn on Vimeo.

Newman . . .

. . . is gone.

Newman's new, undisclosed location

Early in August, Newman joined our crew. He has sailed his last race with us. He has flown out of our paradise and landed into another paradise. He emailed me this picture from his new front porch only this morning, confirming a safe touchdown.

In return email, I reiterated how much we would be missing him, and how much we were hoping this new paradise would work out for him.

After our first rocky race experience with each other, we quickly synched in together. I know I felt more relaxed having his expertise aboard. Das Boot has never been more competitive.

While Newman was on board, I had an experienced skipper with me who could take on mainsheet trim and tactician roles. Not to mention backing me up on helm. He also brought on board his own wind guides and GPS. Experienced with the digital technology of sailing, his second-guessing of my decisions silenced other 2nd-opiners aboard. That's because Newman always had a reason for what he said. And I was gratified to have someone aboard who wanted to win even more than I did.

In a very short time, Newman jelled with Das Boot and everyone aboard. He will be sorely missed.

Captions, Please?

Lady at the Helm Race

Trophy Wife took the helm from wire-to-wire today. In fact she took over at minus 10 minutes to the start.

I relegated myself to chief beer-drinker, photo-taker and rail-meater. It was hard work, believe me. Keeping my mouth shut? Are you kidding? I wanted to see what the unfettered wisdom and judgment of my team would produce in terms of everything from game plan to tactics and sail-trim.

Okay, okay, I opened my mouth sometimes, but I was only askin', not tellin'!

This was a pursuit race in a steady 12 knots building to 17 with flat seas with the tide moderate and down-coast current about 0.2 knots.

What did I learn? People had radical different approaches to the day's conditions than mine:

• Das Boot started on starboard close to the starboard pin where I would have selected port tack on the port end.
• Das Boot went out, tacking up the outside of Kelp Island, where I would have selected the beach route.
• When Das Boot tacked, sheets were eased until speed was regained. That's not for me in two-digit wind: I like to bang 'er over and bow down until that speed gets back up. (I know I'm in a minority here.)
• On the last leg, crew believed the closest end of the line was the windward end.
• One of the reasons old men gravitate toward helming duties as opposed to sail-trim tasks is that they prefer to be assigned to holding on to something stationary with both hands for the duration. I found myself taking refuge in the campanionway., as opposed to either rail where I could at least make myself somewhat useful monitoring tell-tales.

As crew, I botched the spinnaker take-down. Some. Nevertheless, Trophy Wife finished 9th out of 16 boats.

Photo taken from Sirocco (not racing) during the 2nd leg

Repairs . . . . .

I hate not being able to fix things I am able to break.

Returning after Sunday's race we waited until we reached flat water in the elbow of the harbor before dropping the mainsail. That's S.O.P.

But there was less space & time there because of the wind direction and other returning boats. I was not able to hold my into-the-wind position long enough for the battens to clear the lazy jacks and I jacked-up one batten. Shredded out one Luff-Box. I think that's what it's called. I not only can't fix it myself, I barely can muster the correct nomenclature to describe my problem. My mechanical problems, anyway.

My seamanship problems? Alas, they are somewhat easier to diagnose.

Another problem is that my rigging failure soes not fit neatly into the schedule of my local rigger, who is also having maintenance problems of his own having to do with close friends and family.

So, with a race on this coming Sunday, I don't think I can do what I always prefer to do which is to keep it local. With a two-day delay and working with an out-of-town rigger of very good reputation and helpful attitude, I am hopeful of getting out on the water again Sunday. Not at all certain, but hopeful.

I need to practice my seamanship.

Trophy Wife Helms from Start to Finish

While I just doubled as photographer and rail meat.
For this pursuit race, the Race Committee assigned us a short, 2.41nm windward leeward course on account of the wind showing only 3 knots at start time.

Things didn't look too rosy for Das Boot for the first leg. We drifted across the startline 30 seconds late and eventually found ourselves ensnared in kelp just short of the lay line. At one point we were even dragging a crab pot.

But windward-leeward courses really agree with our self-gybing rig and we caught up with a slew of boats on the 2nd leg. A stiffening breeze helped. Lots of close tactical encounters for TW to deal with, and she handled them very nicely. Ultimately, I figured our start cost us one place at the finish. MB went home with a 8th place glass (out of 18).

Fall Beer-Can Series Ends

We had a steady 10 knots at the start, leaving us a bit under-powered for contesting at the starboard end of the line. Consequently, I opted for clear air & water somewhat down the line. The breeze started a slow deterioration mid-way up the first leg. With the tide out and the breeze light, I chose not to go into the beach.

We took it fairly in the britches, that first leg. Good crew work got the chute up and pulling soon after rounding the weather mark. Seas were flat, so sailing in 5-6 knots off the wind did not put us at as terrible a disadvantage as in the windward leg. We found ourselves in the back end of the front half of the fleet. Pretty normal. However, the still steady breeze dropped to 2-3 knots and boats in front of us lost their way and boats behind us dropped out. Carrying the chute up on three of the four legs, we finished an incredible 5th (corrected) place out of 20 boats!

Maestro's shirt displays the attitude what got us through. Newman collected his 2nd glass!

A Strong, Jolting Dose of Realism

This was my dream boat, something which I thought would make me competitive in all conditions (2-20 knots of apparent) which we experience in our venue.

But here is Das Boot.

After much loss of sleep and cash, we decided today to stay with the rig what has brought us thus far through the dance.

Undated photo of one of our recent starts published in Sailing Anarchy

Ides of September

This J-100 was the only boat that finished before us, but she wasn't officially qualified. Neverthless, her name
sums up the day for us: 1st out of 17 boats. 19 steady knots of wind  will do that for us

9/11

Perfect start in 15-19 knots. I don't know how it happened, exactly. There was no element of desperation, as my mind was clear on what I wanted to accomplish as it has been on all my starts this year: no exchange of paint or skin. Today, we didn't even exchange words with other crews.

There was a lot of congestion and traffic on the starboard pin. I approached with care from a slightly barging position. TW was aboard for the first time in memory and was giving me a perfect countdown. I recall feeling content with a plan B that allowed me to take the escape route: take sterns of the leading echelon, cross the line and tack off on to port to the beach. Instead, a clump of boats clustered around Bon Marley and maybe the Beneteau and the Hunter. I don't know who else was there. All I could see was the huge hole opening between them and the pin. Das Boot was able to slide right in, going full-bore, right on the gun! Snatched triumph from the jaws of defeat! Crew work was flawless. We even got a thumb's up sign from Bob Marley! We had captured and were in control of the entire fleet off to port.

Newman took the helm for a couple of tacks on the final leg. He did
 so with far more competence than I did taking this photo.

I should have stayed there. But I couldn't think outside of my own, self-constructed box. Instead of tacking off toward the beach for the Kelp Straits, I should have run the leaders out to sea. Newman is my 'nagavator' now, but he was quiet. I need to get him back into the nagging mode. I sail better when there is talk on the boat. I was so full of myself, I guess, I couldn't reassess.

So I took the formulaic approach, tacked off to port and to the beach. There was the Ranger-33. Eventually he tacked back on to starboard and we had a port-starboard situation. I thought I had it wired like I had the start. But a huge shift occurred. He got the lift and we were headed. He had to alter course and we had to do our penalty turns. I probably lost more than a half of the 18 boat fleet in the process. The only way we caught Bob Marley was when they had trouble gybing under their chute.

A very good day on the water. It could have been a so-perfect day. I'm still trying to assess the learning(s) to take away from this day.