Your Tagline Here

The Bay of Fundy is flat and calm now -- from 25,000 feet.  And as I write this on the airplane headed home, there are still a few dozen boats on the racecourse, unlucky sods.

I was crew on Vamp, an excellently prepared J-44, on the 100th Anniversary Marblehead to Halifax Race.  It's a moderate length distance race, 240 miles across the Gulf of Maine, and then another 120 miles up the coast of Nova Scotia to the well-protected harbor of Halifax.  The race is notoriously cold and foggy over a turbulent racecourse.  Our race, thankfully, was fairly calm, warm, and clear.  The only problem with that picture was relatively light wind.

Vamp's owner and most of her crew hail from New Jersey.  We sailed with eleven people:  two watches of five, and a navigator.  Owner Lenny Sitar and navigator AJ Evans moved the boat to Marblehead earlier in the week and did 95% of the preparation.  Most of us drove up from NJ Saturday to assist with a few final details.  We had two new crew joining us:  Ted, a highly experienced sailor from Marblehead (convenient for him), and Justine, who has raced against us a few times on an Express 37 on Long Island Sound.  Saturday evening we had a pleasant crew dinner and a good night's rest.

Sunday morning (race day) dawned warm, clear and WINDY.  The wind was from a race-friendly southwest.  Forecast, though, was for it to get progressively lighter.  It did.  Here's a link to the event website:  http://www.marbleheadtohalifax.com/.

The wind filled in after a while, but it was light and flukey.  The boats in our division (and all the divisions) were moving east, but diverging.  Some went Northeast, some southeast, and some just plain east.  The weather service which prepared our boat's race forecast predicted better (stronger) winds in the zone 10 to 20 miles south of the rhumbline.

We slowly made our way east-southeast and hoped for the best.  The day remained warm and sunny.  We flipped a coin to decide which watch would take the first shift starting at 8PM, and my watch "won".  We had:  watch captain Bjorn J., bowman Doug L., trimmer / mastman Ted N., trimmer / pit Justine G., and me at trim as well.

The wind remained from behind at variable strength.  At times we scooted forward impressively (at up to nine knots) but other times we moved sluggishly (all dictated by the wind speed).  We changed sails depending on the strength and direction of the wind, at various times using our lightweight symmetric spinnaker, changing to our medium weight asymmetric, and also using our "code zero" tight reaching spinnaker.  We handed the boat over to the other watch at midnight and I crawled into my bunk for a few hours sleep.

3:45AM came all too soon.  Ugh.  :(   I crawled out of my bunk, put on my foul weather pants, jacket and sneakers, and went topsides to go on duty.  We had a sliver of a moon and a whole heck of a lot of stars to see.  It was cool but not cold.  The wind was moderate to light and the ocean remarkably flat.  Sailing at night takes concentration and attention to detail.  It's often said that distance races are won or lost at night (because some crews only operate at, say, 80% efficiency while others manage to function at 95%).  Even an extra tenth of a knot of boat speed, over the course of a few hours, can spell the difference between finishing in the medals or in the "losers lounge".  We worked hard, trying to live up to our motto, "we own the night".

Night Sailing:  Ted, Justine, & me (self-portrait!)

The dawn watch can be very pretty, and this one was no exception.  When we came up the horizon was completely dark, but soon the eastern sky started lightening.  By 5AM we were looking at a well-lit horizon and the sun popped around 5:30.  We thought we saw some of our competitors a few miles away but couldn't be sure.  We also noticed a small (pinhole) in the lightweight spinnaker ... then as the sky brightened we saw it was a pattern of pinholes.  Potentially a problem, we would have to monitor the situation.

Vamp is noted for outstanding food (among other things).  Not surprising since our owner is in the supermarket business.  Monday breakfast was omelets and bacon cooked to order by AJ (talented not only at nav but also in the galley).  But I was tired when our watch ended at 8AM and didn't want to stay up an extra half hour to wait for the omelet, so I gulped a doughnut and a beer and went to sleep immediately.  Food was excellent all trip, dinner the first night was chicken & pasta, the second evening we had filet mignon, the last evening shrimp & pasta.  Lunch on Monday was particularly good, hot grilled ham & cheese sandwiches.  Thanks again, AJ (& Lenny).

The other watch struggled with light winds, at one point putting up the "wind seeker" sail trying to keep the boat moving.  The watches were engaged in a rivalry to see which watch would get the most miles.  A GREAT watch would be more than 28 miles (Averaging over 7 knots), but some of them were pretty lame (as few as 15 miles).  Navigator AJ kept a running tally of each watch's miles and he encouraged the watches to compete with each other.  We won.  :)  LOL

Once you get into the rhythm of standing watches they often become "more of the same".  Four hours on, four hours off.  If the wind is light and we don't change sails too often then sometimes you can grab a quick bite or catch a few winks while on deck.  My four hours off is time to use the head, eat, and most importantly, sleep.  You never know when perhaps a gale will brew up which requires a complete change in watch schedule to, say, six hours on and two off.  So I keep my "batteries" fully charged at every opportunity.  Our watch stands from 8PM to midnight, then from 4AM to 8AM, then from noon until 4PM every day.

On Monday and Tuesday we've used the satellite phone to check the internet for weather and the location of our competitors.  We know they are mostly ahead of us and we have to hope that because we?re slowest in the division we can correct over them on handicap.  Here's a link to the scratch sheet, listing the competitors:  http://www.marbleheadtohalifax.com/AllListEntry.htm.  We're listed on the second page.

Tuesday afternoon we're drifting along in 7 knots of breeze with our light number one headsail up but the radio warns us of extreme instability in the upper atmosphere and an incoming cold front.  Lenny's watch changes from the light 1 to the heavy 1 headsail.  I'm off watch dozing but hear my name shouted, "Rando, take pictures of this PRONTO!"  I grab my camera and bolt onto the deck in shorts and a t-shirt.  There?s a HUGE wall of clouds approaching FAST.  I have time to snap just one photo when the winds start picking up dramatically.  The other watch has now already hoisted the #3 (smaller, stronger) headsail in preparation for this blow.  The heavy #1 is lowered to the deck and I assist in folding (flaking) it, hoping that I'll get below before getting soaked with rain.  We get the sail folded and I bolt below moments prior to the rain starting to fall.  I did NOT want to get all wet without my foul weather gear on, that would present a real challenge to keeping warm.

The front came through and brought winds to 26 knots, we rocketed along at over 9 knots boat speed.  But soon enough the front went through us and on the backside we were left with 7 knots of breeze.  The other watch hoisted the light #1 again and took down the #3.  Such is ocean racing.

The "distance to go" steadily decreased on Tuesday, we got past the first navigational mark on the course, Brazil Rock (the southern tip of the Nova Scotia peninsula).  It was nice to see land after a day and a half.  100 miles, then 80, then 60 -- we wanted to FINISH this race.  Not that we were uncomfortable, but we were chasing our competitors as hard as we could and it was frustrating not being able to catch them.

Our watch took over at 8PM Tuesday.  Bjorn drove the first hour and a half.  AJ had us fill out our customs & immigration paperwork and hand him our passports.  When it was time for Bjorn to process that stuff he asked me to drive.  The water was pretty flat & the wind was generally northerly variable at 5 to 11 knots.  We were approaching Sambro Ledge, which guards Halifax Harbor.  About 20 miles to go, but our boat speed is only 5 - 6 knots.  "Let's finish this thing", I'm thinking to myself.  I drive carefully.  The off watch starts coming up (it's customary to finish the race with all hands on deck the last few hours).  Bjorn works closely with AJ at the nav station.  Lenny helps with main trim a bit but mostly offers me steering advice.  I offer him the wheel but he declines.  Smart move which comes from patience and experience: let the "young guy" do the hard work, then take over half an hour before the finish.  I'm concentrating exclusively on the course, letting Ted and Tom do an outstanding job of keeping the boat moving forward. 

Each time the wind shifts forward or back, up or down, I have to adjust course.  My primary guide is the True Wind Angle display, and I steer to keep it between 42 and 48 degrees depending on the wind strength.  As long as I maintain a proper angle boatspeed takes care of itself.  We all will the boat forward, will the wind stronger, will the breeze to go left.  If the breeze will just stay left we can make the finish line without tacking.  But the"will" isn't working.  We have to wait for the wind.  It comes left "yeah", but then goes back right.  It's up to 11 knots (boat speed leaps to 6), then it falls back to 6 (and boat speed falls to 3).  Water is now completely flat, inside the ledge, only three miles from the finish.  Getting steadily closer.  I stay on until we are about half a mile from the finish, more than two hours.  I'm drained by the concentration.  Lenny takes over for that final half hour.  We throw in a few short tacks to make it across the line and finish at about 12:15 AM.  We are all tired.  The results:  http://www.marbleheadtohalifax.com/results/Div1Results.htm.  We corrected to 10th in our division of 13, and 16th in a fleet of 32.  Mediocre but not horrible.  Disappointing because we have a history of excellent success in distance racing.  Oh well, water under the bridge.

Writing this story there's a lot of me and myself and I, so let me commend and thank every one of my teammates that made our race successful, safe, and fun.  Thanks Captain Lenny for making it possible.

Everyone pitches in coiling lines and neatening the sails.  Not AJ, actually, he's still got to get us to the yacht club.  We are getting some fog.  He tell us the course to steer, we make sure there are no lines in the water, and we fire up the engine.  He monitors our progress closely from the nav station, monitoring the computer, the radar, and the GPS.  It takes us over an hour to pull into the protected arm of the harbor which is home to the Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Club.  We land at the transient dock, AJ takes our papers and clears us through customs.  A welcoming committee gives us some beer and lots of info about the extensive social calendar planned for the race participants.  We clear customs about 3AM and taxi into town for the place we REALLY want to be: soft beds in a decent hotel.  4:30 AM I hit the sheets and fall unconscious.

Late the next morning we meet back at the club.  We all help clean the boat, pack away the sails, put on the delivery sails, fuel the boat, add fresh water, take off the remainder of our belongings, check the engine for fluids, and make her ready for the voyage back to the states.  We grab a bite at the club and make plans for a team dinner at seven.  We have a few hours to ourselves.  Some crew go sightseeing.  I've been to Halifax a number of times before so I grab another nap.  We walk to dinner at one of the nicer seafood restaurants in the city, only a few blocks away.

Crew dinner in Halifax.  Only Bill is missing (flew out two hours after we cleared customs,
a real "touch and go").  Clockwise:  Dougger, Franz, Heather, Rando, Skipper Lenny,
Ted, Tom, Bjorn, Justine, and AJ.

After dinner we split up again.  Lenny and I walk to the casino.  He goes to the "Spanish 21" table, I go to the poker tables for some Texas Hold'em.  Maybe it's because "I slept in a Holiday Inn Select last night", but I enjoy three hours of solid success and finish up $170 ahead at a $2 - $4 table.  Amazing.  After a (very) brief rest, Franz, Heather and I take a 4:15 AM taxi to the airport.

I posted a huge batch of pictures at the following website:  http://randoracing.blogspot.com/.  Check them out.

So a good time was had by all.