This story begins at the
end. Our boat and crew were the first to cross the finish line of
today’s yacht race, the second of three races comprising the Royal Cape
Breton Yacht Club Annual Regatta. ”Catch the Wind”, a Paceship Westwind
24, had never before achieved line honors.
We had won races on handicap
in the past but never like this. On more than one occasion we had won a
race even though we were the last boat to finish. Today the tortoise
had outrun the hares. We had proven that the fable could become a
reality. Sometimes, miracles do happen.
The major reason for our
success was the crew which had been together for the last 12 years. As
the skipper, I had been very fortunate to team up and sail with such
great guys as Emerson and Hook We always enjoyed sailing together and
racing was a pleasure no matter what our result. One thing for sure, we
always had lots of laughs and plenty of food and drinks. Emerson never
forgot to bring the ice, an essential supply on those hot summer days.
He would always throw the first cubes (but never the valuable drinks)
overboard for good luck. It seemed to work well most of the time. Today
we had with us one of our occasional guest crew. Ernie wasn’t always
with us but when he was aboard we had extra ability and intensity.
Let’s get back to the finish. All of the other
yachts in the fleet of
18 were astern, including thirty and forty footers. This was a whole
new kettle of fish for everyone involved. What had happened? How could
the slowest boat in the race be the first one to finish? The
explanation for this takes us back to the start of the race There was a great deal of
frustration as we waited an hour and a half for the wind to reach the
starting area. We could see the ripples on the water everywhere except
in the place chosen for the start line. The race committee was running
out of time. It didn’t look good for a go. Perhaps the race would be
called off. They wanted us to finish before five o’clock for commercial
reasons. There was no way we could sail the original course in the
required time span.
After consulting and deliberating they decided to
shorten the course by eliminating the planned upwind first leg. Well
now, I hear you thinking, what could this mean? It was to be a most
fortuitous turn of events. Fate was taking a part in today’s event in
our favor.
Everybody knows a Westwind is not at it’s best when
sailing
upwind. This is the disadvantage of a drop keel or centerboard. In
general, this type of boat will not point as high as a fixed keelboat.
Off the wind, however, we do very well when we are able to pull our
board up inside the hull which reduces our drag through the water and
allows us to hold our own with other boats going down wind. Just about
all races consist of going upwind most of the time. That is the reason
why we had the lowest handicap of all the boats in this race. Normally,
the windward leg would drop us well back in the fleet. We were usually
the slowest boat upwind because of the leeward drift. Today, however,
the course was definitely in our favor. Our Westwind would have a real
good chance to do well because we didn’t have to go upwind. This could
be our day to shine. Eventually the wind
reached the starting line. The race committee fired the starting gun.
We were off with five other yachts. We were part of the “B” class that
started ten minutes BEFORE the “A” class. “Ah ha “ you are thinking.
Yes! The first leg was a reach to the Point Edward red navigational
buoy. Reaching was one of our strongest points of sail. The wind gods
were being good to us for now. This was getting to be serious fun.
(Contradiction intended) As we sailed toward the first marker the wind
was very flukey. First one boat then another would catch a breeze to
take them ahead only to leave them windless as the others moved in
front. At first we did well, leading at times, then dropping back a
little as the wind favored the other boats. Halfway into the leg, the
gun went off for the start of the “A” class. They could be overhauling
us shortly, but there was no time to think about that now.
As we
rounded the first buoy to port there were two boats close ahead. They
were slightly bigger, a Cal 25 and a Ranger 26. Both had lead mines
(keels) fixed to their bottom to slow them down. Our first order of
business was to tuck the centerboard all the way up into the hull. Then
we took our time setting the spinnaker very carefully. All too often we
had rushed to raise the chute only to have it wrap around itself or
around the forestay. I was never a huge fan of spinnakers. They were
often more trouble than anything else and you could lose a lot of time
getting them to set. This time the sail went up properly and we could
feel the boat pick up a little more speed. In a few minutes we gained
on the boat ahead, the Cal 25 “B. Badenough” By sailing directly behind
we could steal their wind, slowing them down. They tried hard to
prevent us from passing, using every trick they could think of. Slowly
but surely we caught them and gradually sailed ahead.
There was only
one more boat in front. Looking behind we were pleased to see no one
was catching us. Now we were inching up on the leader, thanks to our
raised keel. Our sails were stealing “Saila’s” wind. They did not look
happy as our boat eventually gathered enough speed to go by on
starboard. A few choice comments were passed our way. We could only
smile back. Now it was their turn to blanket us, and it was working.
They were slowing us down way too much. Our spinnaker was collapsing
occasionally. What could we do to escape? Trying our best, we went left
and then right, but to no avail. Then the light wind dropped a little
more giving us a slight edge. Gradually the distance between increased
enough for us to escape their wind shadow.
By now, we were half way
down the last run to the finish. Some of the bigger, faster “A” boats
were gaining quickly with their huge spinnakers pushing the powerful
hulls through the flat water. Would they catch us? Not today! The ten
minute head start was enough to keep us ahead. It is hard to describe
the elation we felt as we crossed the finish line. There was pure
happiness and a sense of accomplishment. The intensity of the race gave
way to relief. No boats were ahead. They were all behind. This was our
finest moment ever in the many races over the years. Never before and
probably never again would circumstances lead to such an unlikely
event.
Were we just plain lucky? Yes, of course. Just as
important, we
were at the start, in a position to take advantage of the opportunity
that was given us. What I learned on the day was that anything could
and does happen if you show up enough times. You never know when you
are going to get that perfect, priceless sail or race. When it does
happen you will remember it for the rest of your life. This was the
most enjoyable race I had ever experienced.
The result, (first overall
on handicap as well as first to finish) was very satisfying, but there
is something even more valuable. Every race is a joy to be treasured.
When we leave our mooring and head to the starting line I like to say
to the crew; “We get to sail a race today!” What more could you
possibly ask for? Two races? Ernie Banks was right on! Larry Boutilier
“Catch the Wind”
Sydney, Nova Scotia
Trips
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