Sadness

I don't often write from my experience in other people's boat.  Not sure why, but probably from a sense of the responsibility that I know comes from skippering a boat, and when I'm not the skipper I don't feel entitled.  But the events of Saturday were extraordinary and not specific to the boat I was crewing on.  I sit here in the warmth and comfort of my home surrounded by my family with an uneasiness and sadness, knowing that some families are going through a very rough time wondering about their still missing loved ones.

Saturday was the Crewed Farallones race.  You have probably read about racing around the Farallones if you have been reading this blog, but in a nutshell it is a 60 mile race from San Francisco Bay around the SE Farallones Is and back.  We call the Farallones Is, the rock pile.  It is an intimidating rocky outcrop in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and when conditions are rough still a scary place after all these years of sailing around it.   It is best to give it  a wide berth, though in mellow conditions many of us have tried to cut some corners.  Myself I always make sure I'm never the closest boat and keep some safe waypoints all the way around the island to guide me on rough and low visibility conditions. There are a few variations of this race, one with fully crewed boats (the one this past Saturday), a double handed version and a single handed version.  I have probably done more singlehanded versions of the race than the other two combined.  A good friend and fellow sailor invited me to go on his boat for the race.   We have raced many ocean miles either together or against each other. For this race we would have a very experienced crew of singlehanded racers and other well seasoned crew.

Our story is not the significant event.  We started, sailed a conservative race out to the first set of channel markers with a reef on the main and our #4, our skipper decided it was enough and we turned back home.  The conditions, though heavy and challenging (20+ knots, 10-15 foot swells with bigger sets) are not uncommon for the area nor for the crew of our boat.  There was no hesitation to turn the boat around when the decision was made.  We had just gone across a huge breaking set smack in the middle of the channel and we would likely have to deal with another 3 miles of similar conditions before getting into the deeper water west of the channel.

Soon after we turned around we saw a competitor had snapped their mast on the shoal area just South of the channel.  On our way out we had seen two Coast Guard lifeboats following the fleet out.   We were a fair distance away and in the rough conditions it would be difficult for us to provide much assistance.  With their mast down we weren't sure if the boat was able to make a distress call if it needed to, so we called in a Mayday and informed the CG of the situation and their position.  We soon saw the two CG lifeboats headed for the sailboat in distress and we continued on back to the bay monitoring the radio.  From the radio conversation it sounded that there were no emergencies and one of the lifeboats would remain on station until the crew could sort out the mess and head back home.

We had a couple of big surfs on our way in, still with a reefed main and our small jib.  Inside Pt Bonita we shook off the reef and set the kite for a great sail back to Alameda.  Spirits were high on board and everyone was making plans for their regained afternoon.

It wasn't until late that evening that my friend called with the bad news.  A boat had been lost at the Farallones Is.  The news reported that a large wave had swept 4 crew off the boat, and in an attempt by the remaining crew to rescue them another wave had slammed the boat into the rocks.    The CG was already in full search and rescue mode and had pulled 3 survivors from the island and one deceased sailor.  Even worse 4 of the crew were still missing.   It was already dark and the prospects of any successful recoveries become slimmer every hour that passes.  This has been a shocking experience.  The sport we love can be a trying and dangerous at times.  I don't have much to offer, other than my thoughts and prayers for the crew of the lost boat and their shoreside families.

Corinthian Redemption

The Corinthian Race, hosted by the Singlehanded Sailing Society, is a tour of the central San Francisco Bay with a Start/Finish line off the deck of the Corinthian YC in Tiburon.  Over 130 boats signed up for the race and with the new jib on hand we were ready to go.

From the Start, we head to Little Harding, followed by Blossom Rock, to Blackaller, up the North bay to Southampton Shoals, back to Little Harding before the finish.  Today the forecast was for light winds 5-10, starting from the North and eventually shifting to the West around 2 PM.

The start proved to be a bit of a fiasco.  With the wind blowing from the NE through Raccoon Straits it made for a light downwind start with a strong flood pushing East.  We, along a handful of other boats setup south of the line and approached it on starboard.  Most of the fleet was approaching from the East on port.  We were a few seconds late and were forced to gybe onto port as the fleet didn't budge at our right of way.  This unfortunately left us to windward of the fleet, and the same folks that fouled us by making us gybe closed the door on us at the pin end of the line.  The T650 just in front of us also got squeezed and touched the mark and had to come around as well.  By the time we got turned around and made our way back to the line against the flood we were the last boat to start the race.  Not how we wanted to start the day.

But we had some opportunities to make up.  By the time we reach Pt Belvedere we were back in the middle of it, getting around half of the fleet that have gone too far into the current.  Around Belvedere the wind filled in from the North and the spinnaker went up for the sail down to Blossom.   We intentionally overstood Little Harding to stay in the current relieve on the Sausalito side before cutting across to the San Francisco shore.   The boats in the middle of the bay closer to Alcatraz weren't looking that great so we kept working our way South.   By the time we reached Blossom we were on the top 5.

The leg from Blossom to Blackaller was a white sail close reach.  We edged towards the SF shore to get out of the worse of the current and it payed off well.  It was a drag race between ourselves, the Flying Tiger, Outsider, a couple of J boats close to shore and a couple of Trimarans enjoying the reaching conditions.  There was no hoisting of the kite around Blackaller (as we usually do) as the wind was still Northerly.  It was close hauled all the way up to Southampton.  There was  a wind transition between Pt Blunt and Alcatraz that only a few of us got through.   Roshambo had broken free early and had stretched.  The FT followed, with ourselves, the yellow tri, Jarlen and Outsider chasing.    There was no one else near. By the time we hit SH, Jarlen had gotten ahead of us and the Tiger being able to hold a higher line with their big genoa.  Initially both the Tiger and Jarlen looked to be headed on the South side of Angel Is, but after seeing we were headed through Raccoon they both came back.

We played the current and the N to W wind transition right through Raccoon and got ahead of both Jarlen and the FT before rounding our last mark on the way to the finish.   We saw Roshambo on the way to the finish as we were approaching Little Harding.  They will get the first to finish gun, but we would be the first monohull to finish, division winner and overall winner in corrected time.  A rewarding day after a frustrating start.

2012 Farallones

The anticipation built throughout the week with an approaching storm and a changing and deteriorating forecast.  The race to the Farallones is no joke, its a 50 mile roundtrip in a not always friendly piece of ocean and with an approaching storm things could get ugly quickly.  Everybody was paying close attention to the forecast and talking amongst skippers before the race was of high volume.

Rob was racing with me for this one and was ready for battle.  I decided to give it a go.  Well, at least get up early in the morning (4:30), get to the start line and have a look at Pt. Bonita.  Well, at least that was the plan.  Things didn't quite worked out that way.

We should have known, we had a couple of omens along the way.  First our traditional fueling station wasn't open in time for us to have our pre-race breakfast.  Then, our trusted friend and fellow competitor onboard Outsider decided to haul out and keep himself and crew dry for the day.  Well, we had done too much and thought too much about it not to at least check it out.   So we set out towards the starting line.  It is a hour and a half delivery and we were already feeling the early tentacles on the storm in the Estuary.   With the Southerly breeze we were motorsailing with the jib up the Estuary to the start at GGYC.

Towards the end of the Estuary we started getting some strong gusts coming through.  Once we got to the mouth of the Estuary we could see the bay was lit up.  The fetch from SJ all the way to Oakland had picked up a huge chop and all the tops were whiting out.  It was possibly blowing close to 30 knots.  I decided to call it a day right then and there.  We went to furl the jib to turn around and this is when things went wrong.  In the strong breeze we didn't get a good furl and the top of the jib got unfurled.   We tried to unfurl the rest of the sail to try again but ended up with a twist on the jib.  These are fairly easy to undo (especially with our small jib) but it requires heading downwind to release the pressure on the sail.  Only problem was that just downwind of us was the breakwater.   We had no searoom to do that manouver.   Our only option was to try to power across the bay with the twisted jib until we could clear the Northern container ship terminal.  Our little Johnson did the trick, but in the process we shredded the unfurled top of the jib.  By now we were well in the bay in 6 foot chop and 25 - 30 knots.  Rob went up to the bow to try to untwist the jib, but it was only when we finally were able to turn downwind that we were able to get the twist off.    We furled what was left of the sail and turn to head back to calmness of the Estuary.    But with the ebb, 30 knots in the nose, and the huge chop we weren't making any headway and having a hard time keeping the propeller in the water.  

Plan B, we unfurled what was left of the jib and motor sailed across the Bay to the San Francisco side to find relief from the Southwesterly winds.   By now the rain was coming down in sheets.  We were aiming to the public dock just north of the Ferry Building.  We could regather ourselves and make a plan.    Once we got to the city side the seas calmed a bit and we got a lull on the breeze so we changed plans and started heading towards South Beach Harbor.  Just as we were about to go under the Bay Bridge the little engine just died.  Back out comes our tattered jib and Rob starts sailing us back towards the public dock as I work on the engine.  A few minutes later I get the engine running again.   We get to the public dock but the surge inside is huge.  The boat would get a thrashing if we tied up there in those conditions.  Since we had the engine working again we decided to give South Beach another go.

Needless to say it was a bit stressful.  Having lost some confidence on the outboard and still battling a building ebb, 20+ knots on the nose and a huge chop we were making very slow progress.  At best we were seeing about 3.5 knots over the water which with the ebb it was more like 1.5 knots over ground. But the engine eventually got us there.   We tied up at the guest dock, took our jib down and hit the Java House for some hot coffee, warming up and decide what to do next.

We made some phone calls, checked the local weather and could see a new band of rain coming into the area.  We were done being wet.  We waited a few hours for the rain to stop.  The winds calmed down and we motored back to Alameda around noon time under much better sea state.

Another wet and cold day with not much to show for other than a torn jib.  But it could have really gotten ugly for us earlier in the day at the mouth of the Estuary had we not being able to motor sail away from the lee shore.   Even though we didn't get tested going around the Farallones, we got a good test just getting out to the starting line.