October windcheck 2017 by Kerstin Fairbend

away from longer boats with a small, flat reaching kite, I decided I was more or less superfluous. I did not steer, trim, contribute very much to tactics or strategy, or navigate. The most I got to contribute was a couple of comments on risk-reward to do with sail changes. Speaking of which, the crew executed something like 35 spinnaker peels, with a success rate ranging from pretty slick to flawless. If the boat was not sailing to its polars for the wind speed and angle, someone – sometimes a couple of them at the same time – would remark on it and start the conversation on changing sails. Most of the time it did not take long to reach a decision. There were only a couple of times the ‘five minute’ rule was used. As with all yacht racing, there are moments of pressure and times when there is not much going on. In the former, these young sailors were as calm and poised as any crew I have sailed with. In the latter, they were certainly as funny as any I have sailed with. Stories of regattas, coaching tales, school disasters or fun times were all free range on the simple rule of What Happens on YA Stays on YA. I wish I had written down some of the ripostes volleyed back at stories, but the one that sticks out was a tale of some disaster whereupon someone responded (and I paraphrase), “Ohhh, hashtag awful.” How can you not love that sense of humor? Becker had spent two evenings coaching Clem and Matt on the Expedition routing software, a couple hours per session. As befitting their overall MO, these two guys were able to have it just about make coffee, so proficient are they with this stuff. On at least two occasions, Clem won versus me in discussion of where a mark was. The worst part was trying to get back through the Race Saturday afternoon (into evening around dusk) in no wind and against the last three hours of the ebb. Maybe that was the hashtag awful line… Eventually the forecast southeaster slowly filled in, but not before I had done my Chef du Bateau routine, boiling water for the freeze-dried meal they had. Otherwise, the main meals seemed to be gummy bears, power bars, fruit and Triscuits. Looking at the slowly greying sky to the SE, I figured a full and warm tummy would be an OK thing for the last 70-odd miles of the race. True to the clouds, the breeze filled in from the SE bringing with it rain squalls, most of which were harboring biggish shifts in wind speed and direction. As the evening wore on and the classic markers of Long Island Sound surged astern, the breeze steadily filled. By about 2200 we were west of New Haven aboard a tiller steered J/105, crewed by a collection of high school sailors, blasting along downwind with the biggest kite up, in squalls over 30 knots and rain. Several of the crew took turns steering. My memory is the top speed down a wave was around 16 knots. The young crew was completely at home in the conditions, windcheckmagazine.com

Matt in particular exercising his Laser background in the steadily increasing sea state. He was happy as a clam at high tide steering the boat up, down and around the waves. As we closed in on the Cows, we started thinking about the angles into the finish. Clem had it nailed and in reasonably quick succession we – they - peeled off five flawless gybes in fresh breeze, in the dark in rainsqualls and an unpleasant sea state. The angle from the Cows, west of the red can then up to the breakwater finish dictated a two-sail reach. Yet another near flawless letterbox drop as the bow passed the Cows Bell and Maddy headed up while the rest of us looked for that elusive Can. Three quarters of the way to the Breakwater we finally nailed it, under the lee bow, and after an appropriate course adjustment, came back onto the Stamford Harbor range, crossing the line around 0030. Turns out all that hard work these teenagers did (again) garnered a second in PHRF class and second in PHRF fleet. I am told that I have done 18 Vineyard Races. I cannot really remember all of them…well, the time Gordy Wagner and I won the DH class in a borrowed Olson 30 does stand out, but I cannot think of a time when I did less, had the most sleep, and had such a grand result. Somehow, the word got out that I “Sure did sleep a lot.” Well, when there is nothing to do, what else IS there to do? After sailing with this crew, I can honestly say it was a race where winning the Golden Pillow Award was an honor and a privilege. ■ Australian born, Joe ‘Coop’ Cooper stayed in the US after the 1980 America’s Cup where he was the boat captain and sailed as Grinder/ Sewer-man on Australia. His whole career has focused on sailing, especially the short-handed aspects of it. He lives in Middletown, RI where he coaches, consults and writes on his blog, joecoopersailing.

October 2017