[Greyhawkupdates] Tuesday June 7 (Finish)

[Tim Allen GREYHAWK]

So I am now in St. George, Bermuda, anchored of the St. George's Dinghy and Sports Club, home for the Bermuda 1-2 fleet here in Bermuda

Last night (Monday night) I decided that I needed to put some petal to the metal and see what I could do to make a showing in this race. The days had been OK, but the previous three nights had basically been disasterous. The autopilot problems definitely spooked me, so I was pretty conservative, shortening sail and what not for the nights. But not tonight. I was determined to make ground on the boats I had been sailing with. For the most part, this has been a pretty breezy downwind race, with the winds often in the 20-25 knot range. For a neophyte single-hander with a sketchy autopilot situation, flying a spinnaker under those conditions, especially at night, isn't even on the radar screen. But that seemed to be the case across the fleet -- at least among the boats that were around me. So I had the genoa pole out to port, and would either run wing and wing dead down wind, or would gybe the main over to the port side as well, depending on the wind shifts. Gybing the main across in 25 knots single-handed requires a carefully orchestrated procedure, and I had it down. And so I worked those shifts, and gybed ever time it made any sense to do so -- every time, all night long. I was also chasing the counter clock-wise circulating current around a cold-core eddy south of the main Gulf Stream, that would help propel me to Bermuda. And so through the night I was able to work my way back ahead of Adhara and Cordelia. 

By dawn today (Tuesday), there were three boats arrayed a mile or three behind me (Cordelia off to m left as I looked back, Adhara in the center, Bluebird to the right). How can I keep these gjys at bay? Bluebird and Adhara are not in my class, but Cordelia -- it's me or her for third place in class 3 -- A mile or three is not going to give me the time I need to beat her on corrected -- I need to open this up, and I've got about 90 miles or so left to do it. It's still blowing 20 knots, and still a bit lumpy, and we're all being conservative with our sail selection. As I look back, I realize this is all about waterline, and I ain't got it. They are all bigger than I am. I'm going to have to do _something_. Out gybing them isn't going to get me the distance I need. I decide that as soon as I see the first 15 on the TWS readout, I'm popping a chute. The 1/2 ounce is still needs drying, and it's an ugly old sail anyways, so if it gets a wrap or blows up, I just don't care. So I get everything rigged (hopefully those guys are too far back there to see what I am doing) and hoist the sail -- it's an hour glass! I puzzle at it for a long minute -- nope, there's no way it's going to untwist itself, so down it comes, ending up in a heap in the forward sail locker. I roll the genoa back out and continue on as if nothing ever happened -- hopefully nobody saw.. After getting something to eat and drink and regaining my composure, I decide to break out my 3/4 ounce spinnaker -- I _know_ this one is correctly packed (I've packed it many times). So out it comes, up it goes, roll in the genoa, get everything trimmed, and we are OFF. What --  A -- Ride! My other spinnakers have the same basic dimenions, but this one just has big shoulders or something  that make it seem huge in comparison. It is of course about the size of a small house, around 1000 square feet. 

The autopilot is doing OK a steering, but I find I need to actively trim the sail to keep us on our feet. No problem, I sit to weather sandwiched between the primary and secondary winches, one of which has the pole guy, the other the sheet (lead across the cockpit). I have to get up to reach the pole downhaul, but it's not bad. If I give just the right ease at just the right time, we would really take off surfing on a wave -- 8.5, 9.5, 10.5, now 11.5 knots I am sure it was all my expert trimming (yeah, right). I look back. We are pulling away from the other boats. OK, now it looks like Adhara has put up his big asymmetric. OK, I don't know what Bluebird is doing, but he seems like he is hanging in there. Cordelia has dropped behind, I can't really make her out -- is that a spinnaker she has finally put up? I can't really tell. 

The wind is up, the wind is down, it shifts a bit ahead, the pole goes forward. There are clouds nearby, and the wind is up. The AP can't keep up anymore and the boar keeps rounding up. Punch the buttons to turn us downwind, ease the pole forward, grab my spike, run to the foredck (well if you can call it running when your're dragging the ball and chain of your safety tether up the jackline), spike the shackle a the tack, sail flys away, "run" back to the cockpit, switch my tether to a central clip, grab the sheet and bring the clew under the boom, throw the halyard clutch and start gathering the sail into the cockpit. Roll out the genoa and we're off again. I look back and Adhara has taken down his chute at the same time, deja vue from a couple of days ago. (Later I learn that he shrimped his kite and had a bear of a time getting it back on board -- this was a recurrent problem for a lot of the boats over the course of this race. I was lucky and never had more than a corner of a sail dragging in the water on a take down.)

As I approach Kitchen Shoals the wind is shifting back behind us, and its problematic keeping the jib filled. The autopilot is having a hard time, the waves throw us around and we round way up or way down. I releas the vice-grip pliers (two now) that are holding it all together and take over the steering myself. We've only got 15 miles to go. I let go the tiller and jump below to rummage through the chart table to get the two Bermuda charts I will need. Back to sailing. I'm gong to need something to write down my finish time with. Jump below a rummage up a pencil. Back to sailing. This pencil has no lead, so jump below and find my pen. Back to sailing. The wind angle is no good, I can't keep the jib filled. I try bringing it out on the other side to run wing and wing, but there is enough wave action that I can't keep it filled on that course either. If I head up to keep the sail filled, I'll run into the reefs. I'ld have to gybe the main over to bear off the other way, or I could try poling out the jib, but to do either of those things I need somebody to steer while I do the manuevers. I try hooking up the AP (which is a major chore), and instead of whir-whir I hear Grrr-Grrr. Uh Oh, I think this ram has finally given up the ghost. I just do the best I can to aim for Kitchen Shoals and then Mills buoy (which is the finish) line, taking some solace that I get to head up a bit going from Kitchen to Mills. This last bit just seems to take foreever, but I finally finish at 18:14. Pasttime was just ahead of me.

It turns out the worst part of the whole trip is getting the boat from the finish to Town Cut, the wind is up, it's built a small chop, and we're motor sailing into it, with spray flying, and of course all my hatches are open, my charts are getting soaked in the cockpit, I'm getting soaked. But we made it. Clear through customs, go anchor in front of the SGDSC. Adhara is right behind me, and looks for an anchor spot (I've taken the best one of course). Bluebird is behind him, and he also anchors with us. I hear on the radio that Cordelia has finished. It's not quite 2 hours since my finish. Unfortunately I don't think that will be quite enough time -- he'll probably correct out ahead of me, putting me fourth in class I think. Not last, and I've obviously beaten some Class 1 and Class 2 boats, too. The dockmaster comes out and gives us a ride in, tomorrow I'll have to inflate my dinhgy and get out my oars. We get shower tokens from the bar, and drink tickets from the Race Committee. The shower feels real good. The drink goes down easily. When we're all done the dockmaster gives us all a ride back to our boats. I started typing this up in my bunk but I fell asleep half-way through. 

The boat is a mess. Up above the cockpit is a den of snakes. Down below there is stuff scattered everywhere.  Today will be about cleaning up and drying out, rest and recovery, and swapping sea stories.

I am really looking forward to having Wendy join me here in Bermuda, and to having her sail with me in the race back. She's an awesome sailor and I think we make a pretty good team. 

Regards,

Tim

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