On the Bounding Main

The NOODs! No, not (thank goodness) a bunch of sailors running around in their birthday suits, but rather the San Diego installment of the National Offshore One-Design regatta.

This series — ten races over a Friday (egad! people actually skipped work!) Saturday, and Sunday — is a big deal around here, at least among those of us sufficiently enlightened to sail. The number of boats entered was easily in triple figures, although there were many classes and (as the name of the regatta would suggest) each boat raced only against its own kind. Skippers spent big bucks preparing their boats — cleaning bottoms, replacing rigging, adding ringers to their crews....

On Valhalla (I'm happy to say) we stuck with all our regulars, which is to say amateurs one and all. Andy (our skipper) did, however, replace his stainless steel backstay with one made of carbon fiber (in the benighted belief that this would make a difference). We were also serious enough about this thing to hold two practice sessions prior to the race.

With so many entrants, there were two race courses, one for smaller boats (20 to 30 feet, say) and the other for larger. We were on the large-boat course, where legs were about a nautical mile and a quarter — just far enough that as you round one mark you can't actually see the next. You have to pick it up as you go. (Typical conversation: "Does anyone see the mark? Does anyone see the mark? DON'T POINT AT IT!!!")

The courses (once again, as the name of the regatta would suggest) were out on the ocean. As you may know, we've had an uncommonly wet winter here in southern California, and the forecast for race weekend was: Friday, rain, Saturday, rain, Sunday, rain. As it turned out, the weathermen were as foresighted as usual: we had, I think, a brief sprinkle on Saturday. But this is hardly to say that conditions were easy. The skies were solidly overcast on the Friday and Saturday, it was cold on both those days, the wind blew hard — up to 20 knots — all three days, and the swell ranged between large and larger, getting up to perhaps eight feet on the Sunday. Kelp (not actually a weather factor, I'll admit) was a bear.

There were times (lots of them, in fact) when we would come about, I would be trimming the genoa on the low side, and having finished I would need to get up to the high side to hike. The angle of heel on those occasions was such that I would need to grab things with my hands just so that I could climb up. My fifty-some-year-old body is not all that happy about climbing. Still, I don't think life gets better.

So, how'd we do? Well, there were moments when snags in sheets would foul tacks, and other moments when the guys on the bow weren't moving the spinnaker pole quite as smartly as they might, and one when we dropped the spinnaker in the water during a takedown and stopped the boat dead. (Do you have any idea how heavy a spinnaker is when it contains water? I didn't either, until now.) Not to put all the blame on the crew, there were also times when a moment's indecision during a start put us at the back of the fleet, or when a mistake in the helmsman's judgment led to a foul and a penalty turn. So...out of ten boats, someone had to come in tenth. Our best finish, in the final race, was a fifth, and although it may may not seem like much, that was really cool against top talent from all over the country.

The NOODs were two weekends ago, but last weekend it was back to Capri 22 racing. (Back to skippering!) Once again, I had the pro from Dover, Emma, as my crew. Ross was not there because he felt he had to work (which may call into question his bona fides as a sailor — or maybe not). There were four races and, to take all suspense out of it, Emma and I finished second, first, third, and third to take first overall. (Typical conversation during a tack: Dave — "Emma, that has to happen faster." Emma — "I'm going as fast as I can!")

No, the true excitement was that this was bumper-car racing. In the first race we approached the starting line overlapped and to windward of another racer, Sheldon. Knowing that I was a bit early anyway, I stalled my boat, fell below Sheldon and, as I crossed the line and simultaneously the gun went off and all was right with the world, I turned up to my proper close-hauled course. Unfortunately, Sheldon didn't. And, sure enough, he banged into me even though I was the leeward, and so right-of-way, boat. No damage, fortunately; he went on to do his penalty turn, and Emma and I went on to take our second. The second and third races were relatively placid affairs. With about three minutes to go before the start of the fourth, however, I approached the line on starboard while another boat (skippered by someone I don't know) ran along the line on port. As we converged, I called out "starboard," and then "Starboard!" and then "STARBOARD!!" but it did no good. He literally rammed me broadside, apparently unaware that I was even there.

No one was hurt, I'm happy to say (the collision was on the low side of our boat, and both Emma and I were on the high side). The collision did, however, take a triangular chunk out of the rail of my boat, measuring about three inches along each leg, with a crack at the apex stretching another six or so inches along the deck.

Once we disentangled ourselves, I did a quick check, decided we were still seaworthy, and continued the race. We arrived at the first mark in third place (having been hampered by the necessarily impromptu nature of our start), then the downwind leg in third place again. On the final, upwind leg we approached the finish line still in third and on starboard while two boats approached on port. This, of course, made me the right-of-way boat, but I could see the two of them yakking away at each other and paying no attention to me. Again??!!! So this time I started with "STARBOARD!!" and then escalated to "STARBOARD!!!!!!" and the boat on collision course, startled to find me there, rounded abruptly into the wind and missed me.

Damn, I have to find a fleet where I can steer and yet other sailors actually know what they're doing.....