oh, sailing is soooo quiet and peaceful... from P

There’s the horn, one minute!! Boat at two o'clock on your starboard bow! Come up, come up! We’re too early, prepare to gybe! Gybe ho! We gotta get better on the gybes – too slow on the trim. We’re gonna tack back toward the committee boat and luff up on the line – prepare to tack! Helm’s alee! Get that #&*# sheet in! Watch out for Black Widow, she always barges the line. Twenty seconds! Watch the flag! Watch the flag! Luff up! Luff up! Ten seconds! Excelsior is coming down hard on us – don’t let him push us down! Give me some power! Power now!! Harden up! Class flag is down! We’re racing!!

And that’s just the start. As Tony picks his way through the traffic trying to find “clean air,” I am trimming the gennie, trying to read the telltales, and always wishing the fairlead car was either one hole further forward or astern. It rarely seems to be set perfectly. Fred is on the high side near the mast, trimming the cunningham and halyard, watching out for traffic behind the 155% genoa. Kent is thinking ahead, calling tactics. Drew is helping out anywhere he is needed; he and I tag-team trimming the main. If John is aboard, he trims the main. Fred, Kent and Tony are intently gazing forward looking for the first mark. “Halaha is tacking! Halaha is tacking!” – then Kent and I usually in unison: “Don’t go with him yet! Put some in the bank!” Soon we make the decision to tack, and all hell breaks loose. As the bow comes around through the wind, the big genoa backwinds just for a moment, then “break!”, I let loose the windward sheet and start cranking the leeward sheet as hard and fast as I can. The wind whips the big mylar sail and it sounds like someone beating on the side of a metal barn with a hammer until I can trim it tight. It seems like it took me forever to trim that sail. But actually it was a good tack and we are moving well.

We near the first mark and there is traffic. “The current is against us, put plenty in the bank before making the gybe! For God’s sake don’t miss that mark!!” Then to the boat leeward of us, “Overlap! Room at the mark!” Him to us, “Plenty of room!” Sometimes there are three or four boats stacked up trying to get around the first mark. Everyone yelling for room. Everyone dependent upon the leeward boat to fall off a little. Voices charged with tension. Someone cracks a joke about the other’s liability insurance and everyone finally laughs.

As we round the mark we are all scrambling to hoist the second headsail, gybe the mainsail, and hoist the whisker pole - all simultaneously - for the downwind run. Inevitably there is a snag, or the clip on the whisker pole gets jammed, or something. Initially everyone is shouting, then a tense quiet as Fred and Drew work to solve the problem. Then both headsails pop like big kites and we start gaining on the fleet. I love it.

Yes, race week is here again. K and I are sailing Senara up to Solomons, MD where we will live aboard her for a week while “the boys” will indeed act like boys and race Tony’s boat (TLSea) again this year in the Screwpile Challenge Regatta. It is hard to believe it’s been a year since I blogged from Solomons, as we stopped there to race while on the first leg of our trip last July. Three days of racing, two or three races each day. Parties every night, and lots bragging, bonding, and B.S. I can hardly wait!

windward leg to the first mark