Racing Our House – Part 2
After our respectable finish in the Flamingo Regatta we put the canvas back on the cockpit, packed up the spinnaker and after an impromptu Superbowl party onboard headed back to Tenacatita the following week to get back to the cruising-day-camp-on-the-beach lifestyle we have been quickly becoming accustomed to. As soon as we arrived we learned that John on Carmanah was already making plans for another race and building a list of participating boats and enlisting volunteers. The Tenacatita Regatta is a occasionally annual race that takes place sometime when there’s enough boats and motivated sailors. I think the excitement of previous race in Barra de Navidad got everyone motivated (and hulls scrubbed clean) which was enough of an excuse for a rematch.
“Sonrisa’s in!” I confirmed as John was making the rounds at the palapa taking names of boats and volunteers for the race for the following Sunday.
I immediately confirmed with Wes and Susan that they would crew for us again. They are good race crew and would certainly get snatched up by another skipper for the race if we didn’t get them on board to crew with us.
As the week progressed the list of participating boats grew as we sized up the competition. Now that Sonrisa had a bit of a reputation from the previous race we weren’t likely to get quite as generous a handicap rating as before. This too would be a pursuit race with the boats with the highest handicap starting first. Since the majority of the participating boats are not typically raced, John had to do some research to find appropriate rating for everyone. At the skippers meeting he gave us our ratings and got agreement from everyone that their rating seemed fair. This time Sonrisa was schedule to start fourth. We would have 3 boats ahead of us to try to pass and 5 boats behind us to try to stay ahead of. By race day a couple of boats had dropped out, so Sonrisa ended up starting 3rd out of 7 boats.
The course for this race was going to be a challenging one for Sonrisa. The starting line was at the edge of the anchorage, so we would have to maneuver around the 40+ anchored boats under sail as we made our start. The first leg was a a short reach to Roca Central where we’d turn and head directly upwind to The Aquarium where S/V Liahona served as the rounding mark where we’d turn and sail directly downwind to an arbitrary GPS mark off of the beach at La Manzanilla where we’d turn again and head directly upwind back to the finish line at the anchorage. Sonrisa’s best points of sail are from a close reach to a broad reach, which there was very little of on this course. This race was going to be all about which boat could point the highest into the wind and run the deepest downwind.
Race day came and once again we did some modest stripping down of Sonrisa for her race configuration. The dodger and bimini windshields were stowed, the spinnaker brought up on deck and we tied the dinghy up on Sauce Sea to get that out of the way. For a moment I considered breaking out the diving gear and cleaning the bottom, but it had only been ten days since the last cleaning and I figured it was probably good enough.
As noon approached, one by one the participating boats raised anchor and began weaving through the anchorage in anticipation of the start. The motoryacht Voyager was anchored at the outside edge of the anchorage and served as the commitee boat and marked the start and finish line for the race.
Sherpa, a steel Swain 36, was first to start followed by Karuna, a Hans Christian 43 ketch. We were particularly intent on catching Karuna being a similar canoe-sterned heavy cruiser but larger and carrying more sail. We kept an eye on Sherpa but mostly followed Karuna around the anchorage to try to position ourselves to start shortly after her.
As Sherpa started we were sailing deeper into the anchorage, trying to guess when to make our turn and charge toward start line. As our start time approached we had to choose whether to round in front of or behind an anchored boat. If we turned too soon we might be over the line early and have to take a penalty turn; if we turned too late we might cross the line late and lose precious seconds. We opted for the conservative route and rounded behind the anchored boat and immediately realized we’d be late for the start. We hardened up the sails and charged Sonrisa at full speed through the anchorage to the start line.
The race was on!
By this time Sherpa was at least 6 minutes ahead of us and Karuna had a decent start and was probably 3 minutes ahead of us. Wes and Susan leapt around the cockpit and deck constantly trimming every sail to capture all of the possible energy from the light afternoon winds. Both Sherpa and Karuna were sailing well on the first leg but we could see that we were gradually catching up to them. Both boats had their AIS on and I could see as we started the upwind leg that Sonrisa was pointing significantly higher into the wind than either of them. While we may have only been a bit faster through the water, we would catch them by making better overall progress toward the windward mark by sailing at a higher angle.
As we passed Roca Central we saw that Sherpa had short-tacked back toward shore while Karuna kept charging out to sea. Wes and Susan were hardening up the sail trim as we started the long upwind leg.
“Karuna’s got the right idea,” I said. “Wait as long as possible to tack to keep our momentum.”
Sonrisa was sailing really well on a starboard tack and we were closing the gap with Karuna but significantly upwind of her at an increasing angle off our port bow.
“She looks like she’s ahead of us, but we’re actually just about even because of the angle to the mark,” I observed. There was a pregnant moment as we watched what Karuna would do next. It was a slow-motion game of chicken.
“Karuna’s tacking!” Susan yelled from the foredeck.
We watched as Karuna’s sails snapped to on the port tack as she turned toward shore and the windward mark.
“He thinks he’s got us, but he doesn’t,” I chided as I gripped the helm and pushed Sonrisa to the edge of her windward sail angle.
“Nope, he’s not going to make it. Ha ha!” Wes exclaimed.
“What’s going on?” Kristin asked sensing Wes and my excitement.
“We’re on a starboard tack and have right-of-way. When Karuna tacked he thought he had enough room to cross in front of us, but he doesn’t. He’s heading right for us. We’re going to make him fall off and go around us.” I explained excitedly.
“What??!” Kristin exclaimed. “How do we know he’ll do that?”
“He knows. That’s the rule!” I said.
“Rules are tools! Ha ha!” Wes exclaimed.
Karuna and Sonrisa barreled ahead quickly closing the distance between each other at a nearly ninety degree angle. The details on Karuna’s starboard side came startlingly into focus as we started to catch the sound of her bow wake and the snap of her sails. Neither boat was giving up her line.
“Oh my god I can’t watch!” Kristin exclaimed.
Wes leapt up to the port rail and shouted at the top of his lungs, “STARBOARD!”
We held our breath as Karuna bore down on our port bow. Sonrisa held her line.
The sound of luffing sails broke the tension and Karuna turned hard to starboard at the last possible moment.
We cheered and yelled as we waved to Karuna as she slid past Sonrisa’s port side not more than a boat length away. We could have tossed them a beer. We probably should have.
We were definitively ahead of Karuna. We sailed on our starboard tack for a bit to put some more distance between us (wouldn’t want Karuna to return the favor) before finally tacking back toward shore in the hunt for Sherpa.
We passed Sherpa on this tack as we headed back toward shore as Sherpa tacked to chase us.
“That’s it! We’re officially in the lead!” I exclaimed as I grabbed a screenshot from the iPad.
“Woo hoo!” cheers erupted from the crew.
“I had to get a screenshot of it because it’s not going to last. Carmanah is already catching up to us.”
Behind us we could already see the distinctive silver hull and huge laminate jib gaining on us.
“We’re going to make him work for it though!” I resolved.
The VHF radio crackled to life on the designated race channel.
“Who’s in the lead out there?” someone called.
Susan grabbed the mic and exclaimed, “Sonrisa has taken the lead!”
We sailed Sonrisa hard upwind toward shore pointing as high as she would go while making good speed through the water. I saw that Karuna had sailed in close to land and appeared to be struggling to make it back out to stronger winds away from shore. We tacked well clear of shore to stay out of any wind shadows from shore. As we did we saw that Carmanah was coming up fast behind us on the opposite tack. With each crossing Carmanah was a bit closer than she was last time.
The VHF radio crackled to life again, “It looks like it’s Sonrisa in the lead heading up to the second mark with Carmanah coming up fast behind.” It was Brett providing race commentary from S/V Liahona which served as the second mark. “Someone tell Sonrisa that Baba 40’s aren’t supposed to go that fast!”
The crew laughed and celebrated our moment in the lead.
But behind us Carmanah was gaining fast. Wes, Susan and Kristin furiously trimmed the sails to get every inch of progress to windward working for us.
Sonrisa fought off Carmanah for as long as she could, hoping we could at least hold her off until the mark, but she finally caught up and crossed in front of us on a starboard tack. It was a close crossing, but she was just far enough ahead for Sonrisa to avoid having to dodge around her stern.
“Approaching the second mark it’s Carmanah in the lead followed by Sonrisa!” the VHF crackled.
Undeterred we continued to sail hard to the windward mark as the wind lightened in close to shore at the mark. I was worried we’d get stuck in Liahona’s wind shadow in the light winds near shore if we got too close so we gave the ‘mark’ ample room and coasted around the Liahona to start the downwind leg.
“Ok, let’s get that spinnaker up!” I called as we took our assigned positions for the spinnaker run.
As we tried (and failed) last race, Kristin would take the helm, Wes took the sheets (control lines) from the cockpit and Susan and I went to the foredeck to handle the sails. We were determined to get the spinnaker up this time and stay in the running this time.
First I doused the staysail while Susan quickly tucked it away on the side of the deck. Then Wes furled the yankee from the cockpit as I hoisted the socked spinnaker to the top of the mast while Susan made sure the spinnaker lines didn’t get fouled. Then Wes moved to the spinnaker sheet and Susan to the tack line as I cleated the spinnaker halyard and prepared to ‘launch’ the spinnaker by hoisting the sock revealing the sail.
“Ready?” I yelled.
“Ready!” the crew responded.
“Launching!” I yelled as I pulled on the line as the sock started sliding up the sail.
The sight of the bright red and blue fabric cascading out of the sock and wafting in the wind as seemingly acres of cloth are released from captivity was breathtaking. As the top of the sail emerged from the sock the belly of the sail lazily swayed in the wind like an elephant cooling its ears then once, twice and BANG the sailed filled and Sonrisa pressed her shoulder down and took off toward the next mark.
Sonrisa’s crew rejoiced “Woo hoo!” “Beautiful!”
Of course by now Carmanah was far ahead of us running their spinnaker deep downwind toward the next mark and the next truly fast boat the J-46 Brainwaves was gaining fast.
While we we making good speed through the water with the spinnaker, the downwind leg showed our inexperience running the spinnaker deep downwind. Sonrisa’s spinnaker is a relatively heavy (1.5 oz) asymmetrical cruising spinnaker which is very effective reaching, but difficult to run dead-downwind. Since the tack is pinned to the bowsprit, you can’t really bring the sail directly in front of the boat and if you try it tends to get caught up in the vortex created by the main sail and twists itself into knots. I’m sure with more practice we could run much deeper with this sail, but we just haven’t figured it out yet. So as Carmanah and Brainwaves flew on a downwind run directly toward the mark, Sonrisa stayed on more of a broad reach to the south of the mark where we hoped we could douse the spinnaker and gybe onto a reach back to the mark and make up some of that time. Maybe if we were lucky we’d get a bit of a break on the wind angle and be able to angle back in toward the mark as we approached the other side of the bay.
While we did better on the downwind leg than we would have without the spinnaker, the gambit to sail a more favorable reach didn’t pay off. By the time we arrived at the third mark the Lagoon 42 catamaran Catatude had caught us by sailing directly downwind on a symmetrical spinnaker.
We rounded the final ‘virtual’ mark and started the final upwind leg to the finish. Inside the bay the winds became less consistent with gusty upwind conditions punctuated by dead spots we didn’t see coming. We still had some confidence that we might catch Catatude on the upwind leg as we chased her toward the northern shore of the bay as we watched Carmanah claw her way up the northern shore nearly on the beach.
Eyeing the opposite shore and worried that the wind might be light close in, we discussed our options and opted to tack a bit early to stay more in the center of the bay as we approached the finish, hopefully to stay in better wind. Unfortunately this ended up being a mistake as the wind in the center of the bay seemed lighter than closer in to shore and we had to tack yet again to regain our speed toward the finish.
Sonrisa crossed the finish line in a solid fourth place behind Carmanah, Brainwaves and Catatude but ahead of the rest of the fleet upholding her reputation as the fastest of the slow boats. We cheered and congratulated each other on a great race.
In all I think it was a very respectable finish for Sonrisa. The only boats that managed to pass us were the true racer/cruisers and a catamaran. I think if we had more practice with the spinnaker and had been able to run it deeper and successfully gybe it for the downwind run, we probably could have taken third. Wes and Susan were fantastic crew for the race and their experience certainly helped us up our game.
After the race one by one all of the boats settled back onto their anchors and crews dinghied ashore to the palapa for the post-race bragging party. There skippers and crew shared tales of triumphs and mishaps and compared notes on what tactics worked and what didn’t. We felt a deep camaraderie with all of our fellow cruisers-turned-racers and are already looking forward to a rematch next year.
