Single-Handed Round the Island Race
I sailed in the Single-Handed Round the Island Race on Vaal Dam on New Year’s Day.
By Bruce Hepburn:
I enjoyed the Single-Handed Round the Island Race immensely, even if I came back battered and bruised…
I had avoided partying too late at the New Year’s Eve Party at PNYC and was asleep on board Shenanigans long before midnight. It’s 21km from PNYC round to LDYC so I decided that if I left my mooring at 06h30 I would arrive at 08h30, half an hour before the start. This would give me enough time to make any changes to the sails prior to the race.
There had been a lot of wind in the night as well as early morning rain, and race day dawned cool and overcast with a good breeze. I hoisted the storm jib and motored out through the moorings. On the way through the Confluence and towards the Island, the wind continued to build, and Deneysville was sitting in the path of a large black thunderstorm with plenty of lightning stabbing out from under it. As I turned South towards LDYC and the storm, I was running into the teeth of a small gale! The motor was making very little headway pushing the boat directly into the wind, so I ‘tacked’ on the storm jib to work my way upwind towards the start line. By now the GPS was telling me I was not going to make the start on time.
On the port tacks I was OK and making about 6 knots, but on the starboard tacks I had problems. The boat was heeling so much in the 30-knot gusts that the prop of the transom-mounted outboard was lifting out of the water with an ominous over-revving of the motor. I had to throttle right back and my ETA at the start was moving ever later. The waves were high, close together and choppy, and the bows would smack down into the wave with a loud bang and stop the boat before she lifted over it and ran down into the next one. The bow wave was coming back in huge sheets of spray and even though I had my waterproofs on, I was getting soaked! I was enjoying every moment of it and I wasn’t even racing yet!
As the race start time approached, I killed the motor and hoisted the main with two reefs and was able to get up to the line where I started about 15 minutes late.
The start line was on a dead run for the south end of the Island, and as I set course, I goose-winged the jib. As the wind blasted across the stern, the jib would sometimes back itself through onto the same side as the boom, and I would haul it back to the windward side where it would take the wind and fill with a thunderclap that would surge the boat forwards. I was surfing down the waves and would then bear off slightly from a dead run to try and stay on the front of the wave, seeing over 8 knots on the log!
Up ahead I watched as first a Hunter and then a Fast 42 broached as the boats became unstable in the gusty dead-running conditions. They had their problems to sort out and I had my own – I noticed that one of the plastic guides on the mainsail luff had not engaged into the mast track, and the sail was bulging out. That wasn’t a big problem on the run but would become one on the inevitable beats to follow. I decided to rather tackle fixing it on the run than with the boat heeling over on the beat. The autohelm had the boat on course and the wind direction was steady, so I ventured onto the foredeck to drop the main, engage the guide, and rehoist the sail again. It all went well until I was on my way back to the cockpit when the boat started to attempt a Chinese gybe! I dived into the cockpit and disengaged the autohelm and swung the tiller to get everything under control again. Somehow I smacked my leg on something and later discovered a nice big bruise to show I had been really trying hard.
The first boats began to round the south end of the Island and the mark laid there and before long I was following them round it. This required a gybe in 30-knot plus wind, but it went off fine.
Once we were behind the Island, the wind dropped significantly because of the tall blue gum trees, but even keeping further away from the wind shadow there was a lot less wind now – I took both reefs out of the main and the boat was feeling underpowered. Before long it was obvious that this wasn’t just the lee of the Island but a drop in wind strength. The boat’s speed dropped more and more, and now what wind there was, was shifting all over the place. We had started this leg on a reach but were all beating slowly towards the mark at the north end of the Island, and by the time we got there, the wind had dropped completely.
Vaal Dam often dishes up some remarkable weather and it isn’t unusual to go from a gale to a total absence of wind in under an hour, as happened here. Half a dozen boats were literally standing still in the water. It gave me the opportunity to get out of my wet weather gear and also to pull down the storm jib and hoist the Genoa. I found blood marks on the sail and couldn’t understand where they had come from until I saw blood streaming down my hand. I have no recollection of when or how I hurt it. Amazing stuff adrenaline!
As always seems to be the case in racing, the Wind Gods favored the leading boats and the group of us who were becalmed watched them hoist their spinnakers in a gentle breeze and sail away towards the finish line, while we drifted around in circles and started to feel the heat of the sun.
Later a very gentle breeze allowed us to slowly inch our way southwards, and it strengthened towards the line so that we actually finished with the boats heeling again and pulling strongly towards the committee boat’s welcome hooter.
Then it was a case of the long haul back home again and I arrived back at the mooring eight hours after I had left, completely exhausted but having had a hugely satisfying day!
Now I am looking forward to the Sanlam Round the Island Race in February and the opportunity to tell the crew what to do while I sit back and relax! I’ve earned the right!