Pre-start
0400hrs Alarm: it’s dark, wet and windy out. Fire up the laptop and whilst the kettle boils and porridge bubbles, check www.metoffice.gov.uk and www.windguru.com for the latest forecasts. SSW 5 to 6 veering westerly, decreasing 3 to 4 with some fog. With the exception of the visibility issue, if it wasn’t so early, I’d like it.
0500hrs, we’re at the boat. Augmenting the local crew of Sam and Rob are Mark & Graham. I’d never met Mark or Graham before, but came recommended, so 20 minutes later, introductions made, the outboard pulled into life, POCO 2 is walked backwards from the overnight berth at Mercury Marina.
3.5hp, against wind and tide isn’t quick. Safety briefing complete we’re heading down the Hamble. 1hr 40 minutes to the 0710 start time remaining. Already I’m nervous that I should have slipped 20 minutes earlier. Bigger boats, courtesy of throbbing inboards pass, left and right. We pass Calshot Spit, I estimate a SSW 4, we need to stay with the outboard.
400m off West Bramble I see the outer distance mark. It’s an easy call. Main up, one reef. Now the scary bit – no, not the start, the outboard needs lifting off the stern and lashing below, underneath the cockpit. During the lifting, steering is restricted. Tack on to starboard, slow down. Rob’s strong and passes the Tohatsu to me below – lashing clips pre-prepared, job done.
Number 4 or number 3? As we close the Island shore wind should back and decrease, plus all forecasts agree in expecting a decrease to 3 to 4. It’s a hanked on sail, so changing it upwind is not a fast option – I choose the number 3.
The start
In filing the outboard I’ve missed the timing, so will need to wing it. The wind has veered a little and there’s negligible line bias. Clear air is more important. We’re no more than 10m off the line – much of the fleet are being conservative and some are well below the line. Watch them harden and power up, cross check those just off Cowes, then go for it. Good start! Hold starboard until just before we’d have to start ducking once on port and we tack round.
The number 3 track is on the coachroof, but we still sheet to the more powerful primary winches. This means that a riding turn is always a risk. It happens. My fault, I should have warned Graham. I throw the helm at Rob (well capable of helming and go to sort it out. Fortunately, Graham’s rolling hitch is up to it and, apart from distracting me, isn’t too serious.
The reef has pulled out! I curse. Actually, the bent stainless steel ramshorn has straightened, letting the ring slide off. At the same time, the mainsheet shackle parts. We’ve no control over the boom, but let’s be honest, it wasn’t sheeted in much.
Prioritise. Reef back in, port cringle onto port horn, that’s fixed.
For a moment I think about retiring; if a cast shackle fails what else is about to break? Meanwhile I’ve thrown the end of the spinnaker tack line over the end of the boom for some control. I’ve brought some spare shackles, but they’re all of the keyed type so the pin won’t go through the small hole in the top mainsheet block. I take off the bottom kicker shackle, same problem. The top one fits, though.
The beat
We think that we’ve lost 20 minutes, probably more like 15. Much of the White Group, starting 10 minutes behind us, has sailed past. What’s worse, I can’t get her sailing. I’ve flattened everything hard, the bow won’t come up and she keeps falling over. I need more drive from the main to balance the rig, but every time we sheet in, we fall over agan.
We seem way over canvassed, but I’ve raced in these conditions before and she went to windward beautifully with me feathering her in the gusts before. Now she won’t even answer the helm to come up. Yesterday I tightened the forestay a little, has that significantly changed the mast rake? I’d checked it, though. I think about a sail change or reef. “Veering 3 – 4” goes through my mind. I stay with it.
OK, time to do something. I call for the jib sheet to be eased and more fullness in the jib luff. She powers, but doesn’t point. That’s text book response. Now ease on a bit more halyard, half an inch more in on the sheet. That’s better. In fact, that good.
The main still isn’t doing much, but the back third is pulling and we power it up in the few lulls.
So far, when on port, tactical decisions have been clear. We’ve now a much larger craft charging in on starboard. “Keep the power on. Maximum weight on the rail,” I call. Graham screams “hold your course” at the other vessel. I concentrate on helming. Through. Only 2 foot to spare, but through. Nice.
The Needles
We’ve balanced clear air with maintaining the best tide with not too many tacks. The White Group are starting to fall into their rightful place given their later start. Uncharitably I’m hoping for some big waves at the Needles. We little boats just go up and down them, whilst the bigger boats slam into the wave in front, slowing them. I reckon they’re about 10 foot high or so. No time for heroics, Although, theoretically I know where the Varvassi is, having hit it many years ago, I’ve already decided to go outside.
With the “Lighthouse buried in the Coastguard hut” Weight Hazards says we’re clear. We bear away. I’ve briefed the crew that, as soon as possible, I want to be about 150m inside a line from the Needles to St Catherine’s Point. Normally I’d be closer inshore, but today this is a blustery lee shore. If we break something or loose someone overboard, I want some sea room.
Needles to St Catherine’s Point
I look for those trying spinnakers. I see about a dozen and the same number of broaches – but only from half that dozen. Although fractional rigged, POCO2 has a big, masthead asymmetric flown from a retractable spinnaker pole. Usually launched from a big green bag in the companion way, at this moment it remains ready but waiting.
One consequence of the design of the retractable bowsprit is that, in rough conditions, it leaks. Sam is on bailing duty. She lightens the boat by at least 15kg of water.
If anyone saw a Windex blow past, it was ours. Graham takes a trick at the helm and has me fashion shroud tell tales out of a strips of carrier bag. He want’s to know when we’re free enough to kite it!
To leeward we see a well-trimmed blue and white asymmetric. It’s working well. This is a race. Can we take a bit more power? I’d check boat speed, but an old intermittent problem has returned meaning that speed has again stopped working on the log. I brief for the hoist.
The pole doesn’t stay out (I forgot to cleat the extract line), but the hoist is good. The kite fills. We broach. Come on, let’s get it under control over. “Tighten the tack line! Bear away”, I call. “I’m trying” comes the in-unison responses. Another broach. We try again, she picks up speed, real speed, but we’re sailing far, far too low. The helm brings her up. This time we fall over, properly. “Don’t worry, she seems to float quite happily on her side” I hear myself sailing. I suggest that this is not good for boat speed, but we’re providing some good entertainment.
I call for a guy run drop and fire the halyard. Slow to gather it, we enter the realms of trawling, but working from one corner, the kite comes in in less than 15 seconds. I hate re-bagging a wet kite!
It’s a two sail reach. Sam bails, swaps wet shirt for a dry one and bails again. We catch some of the boats that passed us whilst we laid flat. We salute their appreciation of the entertainment.
St Catherine’s Point to Bembridge Ledge Buoy
The wind’s more behind us now. I think about re-hoisting the spinnaker but judge that I can’t afford to lose more time if it goes pear shaped (again). In hindsight, this was probably a wrong call. We try goosewinging, but the blade no 3 isn’t that keen.
Bang!
The helmsman lost it surfing down a wave and we crash jibe. More bruises. He’s now stuck to leeward, so I take the helm. The starboard rail is well under. So is Sam. We’re quickly sailing again and jointly agree that Ocean Safety lifejackets do automatically inflate when under water. I have a couple of spare Mae Wests on board. Sam, wet again, changes life jackets. So that’s why we’re required to have a spare lifejacket on board!
The wind has eased? Is this the 3 – 4 forecasted? We talk briefly about shaking out the reef. My experience is that Bembridge to the fort is often blowy. I stay with what I’ve got.
Passed West Princessa to Starboard, we plan for rounding Bembridge Ledge buoy. Virtually downwind, on port I’m conscious of running out of room with other boats if we don’t have an overlap in time or other boats do not have room. I consider sailing high then approach the mark on starboard. This would give right of way, but does everyone else know the rules at a mark? A 40 footer is directly ahead, a good gaggle to starboard of him. I expect them all to come up.
About 20 boat lengths to go. I’ll try an overlap on the 40, if I’m not there by 4 lengths I’ll duck her stern, slow, then try to get inside after the mark. We get a stronger gust. The overlap looks good. Another gust, we’re there. Another gust, we’re past, 10 lengths to go. The gaggle are coming in cautiously from low, probably 30 foot leeward of the mark. We round tight on the mark, perfect.
Bemberidge ledge to the fort
This is the leg that makes me nervous. Tidal heights look good but I’m aware that sands between Seaview and Ryde move.
Before we even get there we're reminded of the conditions. Some 100m to leeward and being attended to by the inshore life boat is a virtually upturned cruising cat, probably 35 foot or so. We suspect that it's mast is stuck in the sea bed. They get our sympathy. I quietly wish them well, then return to the task in hand.
Staying with the number 3 and 1 reef was the right decision.
We aim for 50m outside the Seaview exclusion zone, a stream of larger craft to port. I expect the depth to drop to 3m between the fort and Seaview. 3.5m, 3m, 2.8m. Just because those inside aren’t aground isn’t good security, but I recognise the boat types, most draw as much as us.
I also know that every metre retained to windward here not only reduces the remaining distance, it’s also a metre less for the forthcoming beat. “3.5m,” calls Rob, “3.8”. I breathe again.
Ryde to Finish
The tide’s against us, so logic and the books say go inshore. We’ve just crossed a boat with some neat, ribbon like graphics in red. My guess is that its about 35 foot. He’s on port tack, heading out. I’m heading towards shallow water. Inshore, I see two aground. We tack. We’re now on part, but Red graphics, having tacked pass just ahead, needing me to bear away slightly. WE pass close astern.
Depth, 15m, I tack back in towards the Island. We’re fully powered up 50% of the time. We meet. I pass well ahead. 4m, tack. We meet again, Red graphics back ahead. He’s gaining by going out. Clear air, slight lift? I choose evidence based and hang further out than I would normally. Next meeting, I pass 4 or so lengths ahead.
What’s more, it’s slightly freer offshore, less boats and clear air. I believe that after a couple of tacks, Ill lay the finish. Port tack, 4 miles to go. I head up in the gusts, but the wind is easing, we’re at full power 80% of the time. I talk through shaking out the reef, but the finish is always gusty. I keep up through Osborne Bay, expecting gusts and lulls. They happen.
We pass south of a couple at anchor, a Sigma 38 to leeward passes to the north. They’re faster, but sailing freer. We can still lay the finish, port tack. It’s gusty. Zero to 25kts and back, instantly. Typical of the Point.
100m to go. Something big, (well, relative to us) approaches on Starboard. A boat in front, parallel and slightly to leeward of us holds its course. “Starboard!” At the last minute, she tacks. There’s much shouting, I don’t see contact, but it looks close.
Graham calls, “Duck” just as I make the decision. I know how thick our gelcoat is, and pass just under their sterns, accelerating and come up again. Maximum concentration, I can cross the line without tacking.
We finish at 15.24.18, some 8hrs. 13 minutes and 19 seconds after starting. Despite the problems, 11th in Class out of 51 starters.
I curse the problems near the start, but thank POCO 2 for looking after us. What a great race!
Keith Watts
Skipper, POCO 2