Clear Vision is a "Young 11" keelboat owned by Kevin Skelton and is based in Nelson, New Zealand. Build year: 1986; LOA 11.02m; Beam 3.78m; Draft 2.13m, Weight 4.0T; Mast 13.5m; IRC(2010) 1.060
The 40 knot southerly with 'very high sea' that delayed this year's CSC from Saturday to Sunday caused havoc with more than a few teams. We had planned to race with our usual inshore crew with pretty much everyone available. Available for Saturday, that was.
So we had a slightly unusual mix. Vesna and I were of course off for our Xmas cruise - the CSC has always been a delivery race and the week before Xmas in the sounds is brilliant because nobody is there. A couple of years ago before Christmas we were in a stunning outer Sounds bay in great weather, and didn't see another boat for 3 days. After Boxing Day things get more crowded - nothing like the Bay of Islands though - but it seems much busier, and less special as a result.
Mark H had been at a big stag party the night before (or was it the night before that - if so it must have been quite a party!) but dragged himself to the boat. Jason W was keen no matter when, Mark A was always going to be joining us regardless of details like day or weather conditions, and Matt Perry was a late addition when it looked like the wind was going to be big a couple of days out and he was looking for a ride. Preferably a big one.
As a direct result of the impending cruising holiday CV was in 'fat slapper' mode. We had on the boat the racing cray pot, the racing carpet, all of the racing squabs, and 3 weeks worth of racing (cruising) supplies. And we used the same albino carbon mainsail (close up it strongly resembles Dacron) famed from last year's CSC, on only it's 3rd outing.
With the forecast of a decent southerly we stacked as much of the heavy stuff in the port aft part of the boat as we could. It looked a little odd sitting at the dock, but we were looking forward to the righting moment in the blast from Thom's Rock to Tory Channel Entrance.
There are generally two approaches starting at RPNYC heading out of the harbour in a southerly: either start high with a kite and scoot down in the puffs across Oriental Bay, or start low and stay in more consistent wind while you 2-sail reach up to the white lady. Both of these work, but it's very unusual for both to work on the same day. Or even in the same 10 minutes. It all depends on what gusts emerge from Waitangi Park area. In a substantial break from our mindset over recent months, we went for the conservative option, low on the line. Which initially sucked badly since it failed to blow when we needed it. Eventually we got going, but not well - with all that weight down to leeward.
The Expedition / Predictwind combo had led us to believe that it was best to cross the harbour entrance and tack up the eastern side of the harbour entrance. That goes against conventional local wisdom which says stick to the other side out of the tide, but going across paid off handsomely in a previous race so we tried that again. Whether it was the heavier boat, the port side weight loading making starboard tack just horrible, the cruising mainsail, or the left side not paying, we were well below par leaving the harbour, back with the rest of the fleet. Meanwhile, Wedgetail worked on the beginnings of a horizon job, getting to Moaning Minnie while we were still trying to avoid both the incoming Interislander ferry and the rocky bits at the edges of the harbour entrance. Windspeed was only 20ish in the harbour so I suspect we were also underpowered with our heavy jib on the front.
We'd planned a headsail change to the jibtop as we rounded Minnie, and Matt and Mark H got this done pretty smoothly. We were still not getting away on the following fleet, but we gained almost a knot by throwing up the staysail before the wind went further forward.
Then we got around Thom's Rock and hoisted the big genny. This went imperfectly, with loads of flapping and an early fill that meant it took ages to hoist and of course we sailed horrible angles trying to make it behave. It wasn't really keen on setting well in the big waves of the south coast rips and it spent a bit of time flogging, seeming like it wanted to rip gear off that boat, especially the sheet winch. Not long after that it flogged and suddenly became very hard to trim, although the winch settled down incredibly well. It took all of us a few moments to realize that the sheet was wound into the block rather than being stuck on the clew. Down it came. A couple of us wondered if it was worth the trouble, we'd done okay 2-sail reaching in similar conditions in this race previously.
Oh yes, it was worth it. Once we got the big Q genny flying CV lit up. Winds were 22-27 knots, we saw 30 but only in a gust, occasionally far enough aft that I wondered about a spinnaker for a bit more power. But once we got moving and the Q working we had a great ride with long surfs, averaging circa 13 knots but getting over 17 a few times.
The only time we had trouble after that was not long after the hoist, while we were getting ourselves organised, Jason was making his way around the high side with Mark A steering when he fell on Mark. Since Mark was holding the tiller, he fell on that. And me as well, since I was the next lowest thing down. That made for a slightly messy round-up. Vesna offered advice that this was untidy and we shouldn't do that again. Mark A reassured her things were good back there in business class but she had made up her mind that the Q was as wild as a wild thing.
We had gone slightly too high early on, concerned that it might get too tight for the gennaker as we got towards the other side. As it turned out the Expedition proposal that we stay a little low going into Tory would have been better since we were having to work at getting low while keeping speed on. Wedgie was not as far ahead as we had expected (ie still visible) as we neared Tory. Vesna was on high alert for ferries, rocks and wildlife.
We kept the genny up all the way through Tory Channel Entrance, hoping that the southeasterly at the coast would carry us up the channel. No dice. Another significant difference between the Bay of Islands and the Sounds is that down here we have towering lumps of rock that add significantly to the scenic beauty and detract significantly from wind direction predictability. We did a rather hurried takedown and stupidly tried to tack and steer the boat according to wind direction. This was all while we spotted a panda whale - a big orca - cruising out of the channel.
After the first 500m of Tory channel it is often far more effective to point the boat where you want to go and tack the sails. But we took a while to remember this wee fact. In no wind at all, while deep in the process of remembering, which involved quite a lot of constructive but occasionally loud shouting, we realized that the line was back there and we'd crossed it already.
Then we just needed to get the mainsail down. We saw a lull coming (by now it was blowing 20 knots again) and decided to wait for it. In the central NZ sailing area tradition the lull was 30 knots, and the next lull after that was 42. Eventually though we got the main down and motored to Picton to raft up next to Wedgetail and heard that they had set a new CSC record by about 7 minutes. Well done the Wedgie crew.
We found out later: (1) that our blast across Cook Strait was good enough to make up for our suboptimal harbour exit, and we had come 1st on club offshore handicap, and 2nd on both IRC and PHRF*, and (2) we had water tanks that were 1/4 full because he who had been fixing the hot water system had forgotten to empty them again. Oops. Never mind.
* we'd initially been given 1st on all 3, the trifecta, but it turned out that Gucci had their time mis-reported by Maritime NZ, and pipped us on PHRF by 30 seconds and IRC by 5 minutes (wow!).
Especially if you are a black cat, snuggled up at the foot of the bed, draped across one foot and perfectly happy where you are. Unfortunately the foot had to move, because there was a yacht race starting at 0600 and the body the foot was attached to had to get down to the boat. Ear flicking and then two anticlockwise circles on the duvet followed before the mini-panther settled back down muttering under his breath.
Meanwhile the foot (and the rest of me) got up and had a shower, made coffee and a bagel, and double checked all the stuff I had packed the night before. Right - off to the marina for the Ship's Cove race then. Well almost. Knowing I had a very expensive day due on Sunday I stopped at a hole-in-the-wall and got a couple of hundred dollars out... then went down to Clear Vision. Loading of gear bags began, closely followed by 8 supermarket bags. As they were being stowed, the Food Distribution Department (Vesna) returned from the car with 6 more supermarket bags, and said:
"Bardy, would you mind just popping up to my car, the last of the food is sitting just behind it, could you bring it down for me please?"
I was expecting there to be just the last couple of bags, and was thinking that Clear Vision Catering had well and truly outdone itself this time. When I got to the car there were in fact NINE more supermarket bags waiting to be carried down to the boat. Crimmany. Much hilarity followed, with comments including: "We're going to Ship's Cove in the Marlborough Sounds Vesna, not Ship's Cove in the Bahamas.". At one point there was concern expressed that we might not have room for the beer as there was so much food... but sanity reigned in the end (no, none of the food was thrown overboard).
Vesna pointed out that it was a light winds race and we could be out there for some time. Prophetic words!
So we left the dock and headed out into Lambton Harbour. Spirits were high.
It had been a long break through the dead of winter, and we were all looking forward to another adventure. We decided to put the main up, as we figured we'd need it - Westy reminded me to head the boat up into the wind before the hoist. It was a good tip, and easily implemented, as wherever the boat was pointed was into the wind while we were motoring. Lambton harbour was glassy smooth. The light number one joined the main and we gently motored (leading up to the 5 minute gun) and then inched along (after the 5 minute gun) towards the city side of the line. Normally we aim to be on the line, at speed, in clear air for the start... this time we were just focussing on not being stopped, however we managed right on the line and in clear air too, with only Bootlegger anywhere near us - and we were inching 2 to her 1 at that stage. Bonus! We had chosen the city side of the line to be out of the way when the next Bluebridge ferry left, but we seemed to have lucked into the first hint of a Northerly breeze - Gucci, ourselves and Bootlegger were moving while the rest of the boats were completely stopped. We were pleased with our start, and celebrated by having first breakfast. The Food Distribution Department had individually packed a bacon and egg roll, and a mini Just Juice in our named breakfast glad bags. Mmmmm. Bacon and egg for breakfast. Morale was high.
20 minutes later we had progressed perhaps 250 metres from the start line. This rated as an outstanding effort, as Marangi was still 200 metres behind the start line, and a number of other boats were still on or just over the line. Gucci was ahead of us, but beginning to knock noticeably. Nedax was the leeward most boat and they had knocked 50 degrees and were pushing into the Oriental Bay shore under Code 0. This paid big dividends as the first North/South shift of the race kicked in. They flopped over onto starboard and shot off at 3 or 4 knots in a nice Southerly puff. Gucci tacked, and lost all their speed doing it, allowing us to ghost across their bow heading as fast as we could (at around 1 knot) towards the new Southerly puff. By now it was light enough to take some photos...
As we crept across Evans Bay we held to the South expecting to be first to the forecast Southerly... however soon we saw Nedax (which was past Point Halswell) tack over onto port in a filling in Northerly change (the second North/South change).
We then saw Awatere outbound - this was to be the first of three sightings of Awatere.
We had to suck it up as first Andiamo and then The Guarantee to leeward of us picked up the strengthening 5 - 8 knot Northerly.
We rounded Point Halswell with Gucci close behind us and there was some good natured Rock Monitor jocularity about just how close to Halswell light we could afford to go. As we crossed Kau Bay we hoisted the kite and it seemed like we were finally under way, albeit in a light (but steady) Northerly. However it wasn't set to last. As we approached Worser Bay we could see the boats in front of us slowing, heading up to very high angles in a desperate attempt to keep their way on, and eventually stopping. We gybed, but perhaps too late to catch a small puff that was sneaking through in towards the beach, and we parked. We had sailed into the transition zone between this Northerly and the approaching Southerly (the third North/South change) outside the harbour heads. Nedax was off in the Southerly and we watched Andiamo and The Guarantee also begin to sneak away in the filling in Southerly, while the boats behind us were sailing up to and past us on both sides... Am Mer and Montego Bay III in the Southerly on the Worser Bay shore, and Bootlegger and Gucci in the Northerly out towards Ward Island. Morale was low. Eventually we dropped the kite and wallowed stationary under main and light number 1 heady and watched as the in-bound Arahura passed exceptionally close to Bootlegger. We noted that they didn't use their horn, and concluded they might have been able to hear Clive as they approached and thus had a good fix on where Bootlegger was. The Food Distribution Department, conscious that there was a lot of food to get through, sent up cups of tea, coffee and Milo, and initiated second breakfast with peanut butter and jam rolls, three types of cakes, and some left over breakfast bacon and egg rolls. Morale improved... ...and it improved more when the Southerly finally marched northwards past Steeple Rock Light - we were under way again... to windward, but in a nice consistent 8 - 10 knot breeze. It was decided that heading to the left hand/Eastern shoreline on the way out of the harbour was going to pay with a left hand lift off Pencarrow. The FULL go left strategy was tempered somewhat by Rock Monitor alerts, and consideration of tidal influences... the by now outgoing tide was stronger mid-channel... so as a result we put a small series of tacks in to reach Moaning Mini. As the final tack for Moaning Mini was called by yours truly, one of the 'doubting faction' on board was heard to comment "You think we're going to lay it from here? Good luck with that!" Admittedly Westy had come out of the tack quite low - in order to build speed in the light conditions - as the speed built he came up, and up, and then Huey did as predicted by the lay line calling faction... and what do you know, we laid quite comfortably in the end. The doubting faction acknowledged what a good call it was, and then resumed enhancing morale by distributing the next round of food parcels. It had taken FOUR HOURS to reach the entrance to the harbour - something that usually takes approximately 1 hour. The race record for the Ship's Cove race is 4 hours 39 minutes and 43 seconds. It seemed quite safe today. Mark Ansell argued successfully for a keep high (south) track and therefore avoid being sucked into the Sinclair Head vacuum strategy.
The Guarantee was about 300 metres in front of us, and as we freed up slowly heading across the south coast they went for their gennaker. Figuring that due to our being 2 to 3 hours behind normal schedule the Sinclair and Karori rips were likely to be a little 'boisterous' we thought the gennaker might be difficult to keep set in the unsettled sea way and fickle winds. Instead changed from the light airs heady to the almost 1 year old Linton Sails Jib-top accompanied by the cute little Linton sails staysail.
The Sinclair Head rip was indeed lumpy and confused, although hardly threatening. Nevertheless the jib-top/staysail combination did seem to work to our advantage - we felt we'd halved the distance on The Guarantee by the time we cleared the Karori rip, and we thought the boats behind us had lost out significantly by being sucked into the Sinclair Head vacuum. The Guarantee then peeled to their mast head kite, and we hoisted our kite too, however The Guarantee did begin to slowly pull away from us. Vesna then had a shift on the helm as we rounded Cape Terawhiti. Under clear skies in warm sunshine we were peeling off 6.5 - 8.5 knots of boat speed with the tide helping us. Morale was high. Lunch packs were distributed and consumed and no one could think of many places we would rather have been. However we did notice just how slow our progress to date had been when we saw the Awatere returning bound for Wellington. It was too good to last, however. Approximately mid-Cook Strait we slowed, and then pretty much stopped. As can be seen by our GPS track, that was not the worst of it.
The bad news was the wind had died, at least where we were, and the tide had changed. We were heading south, despite sailing at 1 to 2 knots through the water. The good news was that Gucci and Am Mer (near Cape Terawhiti) and Bootlegger and Montego Bay III (further out to sea and heading towards Tory Channel entrance) were a loooong way back. We could only identify which boat was which by the colour of their kites. Interestingly Gucci and Am Meer were on starboard gybe in a Northerly (the fourth North/South change) while Bootlegger and Montego Bay III were still in a solid Southerly. We were in the hole in between. It was noted that Nicki had never finished an offshore before, and talk of the 'Curse of Nicki' developed over the following few hours... This hole dragged on and on and on. And on. And on and on and on. Morale was low, extremely low. Estimates had Bootlegger overtaking us, still storming along in the southerly. Eventually some breeze kicked in. Our heading was 015 and our boat speed was 2.5 knots in a 3 to 5.5 knot north-easterly. However, our Course Over Ground was 220 at 1.5 knots Speed Over Ground. We were not amused. To make things worse there was an annoying 1/2 to 1 metre swell/slop which was conspiring to shake any power out of our sails. The Food Distribution Department conducted a pre-emptive strike against any mutinous thoughts by making some ham and cheese toasted sandwiches. Morale rose dramatically. As the afternoon wore on we could see a Northerly a mile to windward, and we could see a southerly 2 miles to leeward. We'd edge into the Northerly, only to have it slide away again. Gucci was now only about a mile astern after earlier having been almost half the width of the Cook Strait away. Morale was sorely tested when we heard Nedax reporting their finish time just before 5 pm. Nicki's raspberry and white chocolate cake tempered the mood briefly, but the continued frustration of slow, if not backward progress was eating away at us. We had a seabird join us. What was really depressing is the bird was paddling along and gaining on us. Mark Ansell threw the bird some wasabi peas for revenge.
Following the 1820 sched. the dominoes began to fall. Marangi had been last seen as we left the harbour entrance behind. They were the clever ones it seemed, having pulled the pin early on. Next to go were Bootlegger and Am Mer.
We heard Bob on Montego Bay III call Wellington Maritime Radio on channel 16. "Bob's had enough" was the call... Wellington Maritime transferred Montego Bay III to Channel 71, and we followed to eaves drop. Bob came onto 71 and said "errrr, stand by Wellington Maritime Radio, we are just reassessing our options..." 5 minutes later he was back to withdraw and report he was motoring to Tory Channel entrance.
Up ahead The Brothers were not getting closer very quickly. The Guarantee was tight in on the shore of Arapawa Island - barely discernable in the distance, and we could just make out Andiamo near Cape Komaru. Other than them it was just ourselves and Gucci. The mutinous faction briefly tabled the prospect of withdrawing ourselves, but almost before the words were out of their mouths a 10 knot North-wester kicked in and we were off heading straight at Cape Komaru at 7 to 7.5 knots. Morale surged, especially when Tony announced that now we were as far north as we had been 5 hours earlier... mutter, mutter, muttah paneer... There was even (briefly) crazy talk about changing from the number 1 light heady to the number 2! During this time we saw the Awatere for the third time today heading back to the South Island. Would this race ever end? With the tide having changed again, yes we really had been out there THAT long, our main tactical concern now was not to go too far and be swept well past Cape Komaru on the strong tidal currents. As a result we deliberately tacked early, figuring we could always tack again if needed. We did need to tack again, and when we tacked back the doubting faction again threw a "good luck with that" call out there, but in the end we cleared the rocks of Cape Komaru comfortably. Splendid. All we had to do now was ease our way up Queen Charlotte sound and we'd be done. Pffffft. Huey was having none of that, and the 'Curse of Nicki' was strong... The wind crapped out again as we sailed headlong into another transition zone. Morale was extraordinarily low at this point. The Wales versus France semi final had started, and the sun had dropped and once again we were becalmed doing under 1 knot, no wait, with no speed registering on the speedo at all. Pants! The Food Distribution Department then began cooking steak, onion, beetroot, lettuce and cheese burgers. Just the smell of steaks cooking and onions caramelising keep the murderous thoughts at bay. Westy was trimming heroically and Mark Ansell was a picture of determination on the helm. Eventually a southerly kicked in (the fifth North/South change) and we were off again with Gucci a few hundred metres astern. I was absolutely exhausted and just slumped on the rail as Nicki helmed us across the line to successfully finish her first off-shore. It was 2115 and 23 seconds, giving us an elapsed time for the 40 mile race of fifteen hours 15 minutes 23 seconds. Easily the longest Cook Strait crossing any of us had done. Last year I'd done the 117 miles to Nelson in 10 hours 50 minutes, and the 72 miles Mana - Picton race in 10 hours 15 minutes... It was a race that at times seemed it would never end. But we found out at breakfast the next morning we were the 4th boat to finish, a good reward for hanging in there. Waking up to the beauty of Endeavour inlet was a highlight too...
...my Sunday involved breakfast at Ferneaux Lodge ($22.00), a water taxi to Picton ($52.00), a shuttle to Blenheim ($70.00 split 2 ways with Gordy = $35.00), a flight to Wellington ($99.00), the Airporter Express bus into the city ($8.50) where I picked my car up from the yacht club and drove to the Back Bencher, had a steak burger ($7.00) and then off to see the Phoenix win their first home game at the ring of fire for the year 2 - 0 against The Newcastle Jest. Priceless.
[ Photos and video Brandon Clarke and Mark Holmes ]
[note YouTube link to video from this race at the top of the page]
The Cook Strait can be an absolute prick of a place. Every now and then though Tangaroa and Huey relent, and lay on a stunner. Turns out I was one of the lucky few who got to experience just such a stunning Cook Strait on Saturday, March 12th 2011 in the RPNYC The Brothers race. Our approximate track can be seen here, with the outbound leg in red and the return in blue.
My alarm went off at the obscene hour of 6.30am. That's a pretty obscene hour at the best times, but it was particularly galling this time as we'd had a "small" (40 or 50 people) bbq at shed 44b the night before to celebrate the last Rum Race of the season. As a result of the ensuing festivities I had not made it to bed until well into Saturday morning. Fortunately my sleep had been an undisturbed, deep, full-body-too-many-rumbos induced coma, so although lacking in quantity, the few hours of sleep I did get were certainly quality.
I crawled into the shower, got dressed, fed the mini-panther and grabbed my kit, 2 large orange juices and a banana before staggering out the door. I swapped a couple of txts with Vesna explaining that while Mr. Stomach was proving slightly rebellious and uncooperative, I should, hopefully, be fine come the scheduled start at 9am.
Driving to the yacht club I stopped for an emergency bacon and egg McMuffin and a hot chocolate and as I drove back out onto Cable Street I passed Jamie Knob-Shiner literally running into the BP Connect yelling "Coffffeeeeeee!!!!". There was a triathlon scheduled to start off the end of the Overseas Passenger Terminal, so I had to talk my way through no less than three check-points to get my car onto the wharf. Despite feeling pretty average, I must have still been functioning okay, as 20 minutes later Jamie Knob-Shiner came down C pier and said:
"How did you get to park on the wharf? I was just behind you but they wouldn't let me in so I had to go back and park miles away..."
Paul PH was waiting at the gate to C pier and Banana-Boy, Tony & Vesna, Little Mark and Joerg joined us shortly after. Loading Clear Vision is usually a contest of wills (or Wells) as Vesna tries to sneak more safety equipment on board when Tony is not looking, and Tony tries to sneak things off again when Vesna is not looking. This dynamic was slightly askew this time. Having just circumnavigated the North Island the boat was fully Cat. 2'ed, so the debate was actually centred on how much stuff we could take off the boat, with all opinions pulling in roughly the same direction. A central theme however was that despite the kind forecast, it would be rather embarrassing to get caught in a Cook Strait storm having removed the Storm Kite, or some other bit of gear seldom needed only to actually need it.
I was feeling very average, and largely failed to participate in the setting up of the sheets etc., but after starting the consumption of my lunch-pack early things improved. I could feel the life flowing back into my limbs as I downed a Fresh Up, and shortly afterwards we headed out of Chaffers Marina into Lambton Harbour.
There was a southerly blowing, and the conventional wisdom is that gennakers and spinnakers are a tempting trap for young players across Oriental Bay in a Southerly. As we motored down to see what the wind angle in Evans Bay was Huey tried desperately to draw us into temptation. Talk ranged from perhaps we should consider the almost brand new Linton Sails jib-top, to the gennaker and even the Spinnaker with the wind being completely square at times talk. However once into Evans Bay we were reassured that it was a typical Lambton-Harbour-Southerly-Trap-For-Young-Players and that we would start with a jib and full main... the almost brand new Linton Sails jib-top being discounted due to the need for a head sail change at Kau Bay for the beat out of the harbour.
The next step was to completely fail to replicate our near perfect execution on of pre-start strategy from the Cook Strait Classic. This time we managed to be a long way from the line, with almost no boat speed, not in clear air, and not quite where we wanted to be on the line either. Morale was somewhat lower than expected. Tony was therefore relieved of helming duties and Vesna took over in a dire situation: Clear Vision was well back... behind Montego Bay III, CU Later, Gucci Prime Mover and even Illusions.
Revs on the reach out of Lambton Harbour was one of the boats to go for a gennaker...
I was trimming the main, Banana-Boy the head sail while Tony was downstairs forming a lasting relationship with Expedition that was to become more and more intense as the day wore on.
Joerg and Paul were nominally on the foredeck, but they had clearly plotted a revolution, and Joerg was already working his way subtly back along the rail. As we got to Point Halswell we caught Gucci and managed to fake them into going a little too close into Kau Bay we they slowed in the deep mire of becalmedness that lurked there ready to swallow the unwary. As we passed Scorching, Karaka and Worser Bays Tony was predicting we would not make it up to Steeple Light, and that with the incomming tide Expedition was recommending we stay on starboard tack all the way across to the Pencarrow side and then hug that coast for tide relief as there should be a significant left hand shift there that would allow us to lay Moaning Minnie.
Prime Mover clearly scoffed at Tony's theory as they tacked into Worser Bay for the western version of tide relief. As they did so Vesna proclaimed "And may they find every header in the harbour as they do so, Mwa-Ha-Ha-HAHAHA!!!!" And verily they did seem to do so. As we progressed lifts aplenty actually lead to us having to inform Tony that Steeple Light might actually become and issue. It was suggested he get on the radio and ask Steeple Light what its intentions were, as per the Clear Vision standard operating procedures for negotiating with Gas Rigs and other immovable objects. However, as predicted by The Oracle (Expedition) we slowly began knocking. Montego Bay III passed a boat length astern of us
and was lured into the "seek tide relief on the western side of the channel" faction leaving Clear Vision all alone heading for the rocks on the Pencarrow side.
The Rock Monitor warning system that Vesna has installed inside her gradually progressed from Dark Green, through Light Green, and into Yellow. At this point she began enquiring as to whether Tony thought we should tack. Expedition was urging Tony to tack only when the depth of water below the keel got to around 2 metres, but the rock monitor software in Vesna's head was now at Amber, and this triggers repeated and ever increasingly anxious enquiries about whether we should tack. Tony told her to concentrate on steering the boat. Vesna hardly missed a beat pointing out she was a woman, and therefore could, and currently was multi-tasking and as the Rock Monitor reading was now approaching Dark Orange with maybe even hints of Red, she was now announcing her intentions, and her intentions were to tack to avoid a gas rig. Tony looked up out of the companion way and calmly said "No, let's go a little bit further." He came very close to being firmly over-ruled, and ultimately we split the difference tacked. Rock Monitor status returned to Amber, and then Yellow, at which point Tony and Expedition urged we tack back in for more tide relief. The above discussion was then repeated, much to the hilarity of all on board.
Revs at Pencarrow...
However when we tacked again we had indeed hooked into a significant left hand shift as predicted by Expedition, and the terms "Smashed 'Em Bro!" and "Who is Prime Mover?" were bandied around. Morale was high.
We were fourth around Moaning Mini,
behind Andiamo (Davidson 55), Revs (Ross 40) and Nedax Racing (Thompson 30),
having put a lot of time on all the boats who went right. I took over the helm from Vesna and we sailed with slightly cracked sheets across Lyall Bay.
The breeze was lightening off and consequently Prime Mover, CU Later and Montego Bay III were clawing back some of the ground we had gained approaching Moaning Mini.
Looking ahead it was clear that the wind was heading the other boats, so we put height in the bank at the expense of speed as we approached Sinclair Head. We were down to just 7 knots TWS and 3 or 4 knots of boat speed. Morale was becoming lower. A head sail change was required from the medium airs to the light airs jib. This, combined with our height in the bank strategy paid handsome dividends as Prime Mover and Montego Bay III sailed into almost no breeze at all just East of Sinclair.
In fact when Montego Bay III tacked out Banana-Boy noted it looked like Bob and the team were heading back to Wellington. It was just a VERY wide tacking angle, however.
Clear Vision then went on a wildlife safari. Firstly, just before Sinclair Head we passed within 10 metres of a large shark. Only minutes after the conversation had run it's course of " This one time, at band camp, we saw a massive hammer-head shark..." type stories Vesna cried from the windward rail "OH LOOK! A whale!". And it was...
an Orca was frolicking - perhaps trying to get into a cray pot, and many minutes passed as we watched it's tail flap and flop and it leap out of the water and broach. [or maybe stunning fish by slapping it's tail --TW]
And morale was high. Giggles of joy were even heard.
From Sinclair Head to Cape Terawhiti the spectacular scenery was augmented by some eerie cloud formations...
The revolution by the foredeck union was then sprung. Tony and Little Mark were dispatched to the foredeck to set up the mast head kite,
while Joerg and Paul somehow inveigled their way all the way to the back of the cockpit and set up as kite trimmer and kite grinder respectively.
Joerg began asking if it was time for a rum. Many of you who have spent some time sailing will have read "mast head kite" and, having spent some time pondering and calculating, will possibly have formed a picture of a spinnaker that is flown from the head of the mast. I too had a similar vision in my head. Tony it seems, perhaps in a subtle counter-revolutionary power play of his own, set the mast head kite up on the fractional halyard. Later in the race Joerg was to be somewhat snide about this miscalculation by the New Foredeck Department, but it must be noted that he not only trimmed said mast head kite quite happily for over an hour,
but also was heard to comment what a nice shape it was. It was only much later past Cape Terawhiti when we went to peel to the gennaker that Vesna announced she was confused as to why she only had 3 metres of mast head halyard tail to release and yet the mast head kite was aloft.
Said peel was, unfortunately, another salutary lesson for Banana-Boy in just how not to raise and lower downwind sails in offshore races. Due to our strong desire to use as many sails as possible during the race, we had been sailing along nicely under full main, mast head-fractional kite, the almost brand new Linton Sails jib-top and the lovely Linton Sails Stays'il.
The almost brand new Linton Sails jib-top was on the gennaker sheets, which meant we dropped the mast head-fractional kite, transferred the kite sheets to the gennaker and then went for a rehoist. Joerg gave the New Foredeck Department an 'F' for this rehoist, as they had the sheets inside the lifelines and the lazy sheets twisted on the tack line. The gennaker came back down, some macrame ensued, and then the gennaker went back up. Complete with a very intricately stemmed wineglass. The halyard was lowered part way, luffs were pulled, instructions were given from, and to, the foredeck, some of them quite pointed.
The actual Foredeck Union had needed no encouragement to join the Cockpit Union and shout advice and criticism to the New Foredeck Department. In fact they seemed to be naturals at cockpit-advise-giving.
"Perhaps you should put the sheets on the head of the sail to really stuff it up?"
Eventually the gennaker was rehoisted 'successfully' and we were off to The Brothers on the horizon. Joerg asked if it was time for a rum. We diverged from the rest of the fleet during this part of the race.
Local wisdom is the best route to The Brothers is to head across the Strait as fast as possible and then ride the tidal stream up the western side of the Strait to The Brothers. Today however Expedition wanted us to hug the coast near Terawhiti
which gave great views of the Makara Wind farm...
and ride a tidal back eddy that was running at 4 knots northwards, and then hook into a westerly flowing tidal stream that should deposit us right at the southern tip of The Brothers. And so it was. The almost brand new Linton Sails jib-top was lowered and the angle was 'mama-bear' (juuuuust right) for the Gennaker and lovely Linton Sails Stays'il and with the seas slight Clear Vision began purring.
Vesna's glad bag lunch packs emerged containing filled rolls, nectarines, an individual serving sized bag of potato chips, a Fresh Up (for everyone except me who had needed Freshening-Up before we left the marina) and an individually packaged piece of fudge! Mmmmm - JUST what was needed. Morale soared... and Joerg asked if anyone thought we should have a rum. We captured a couple of good shots of Andiamo
and Revs (with Kapiti Island in the background)
already heading back to Wellington, and the rest of the fleet pursuing us as we closed in on The Brothers.
Rounding The Brothers on an Augie Auer 'Blue Dome Day' in 10 knots of breeze was spine-tinglingly beautiful.
The water was crystal clear, the landscape breath taking and the sun on our faces made everyone smile.
We gybed around the back of The Brothers...
It was good to be alive, and even better to sailing on a sparkling Cook Strait with seas slight. It was even distracting enough for the Rock Monitor to remain in nothing above the Yellow zone despite the 50 metre proximity of the kelp-laden rocks.
Morale was extremely high and at this point Joerg, having just asked if it was time for a rum, completed the revolution by taking the helm at The Brothers while Banana-Boy graduated from head sail to main trim for the slightly cracked sheets return trip across the Strait. Cu Later, then Prime Mover and Montego Bay III were 5th, 6th and 7th respectively around The Brothers...
and then the wildlife safari continued with large numbers of [url=]Mollymawk Albatrosses sighted
with their 6 to 7 foot wing span helping them glide effortlessly across the tips of the waves.
The joys of the Cook Strait Tidal pattern were foremost in our mind here. It seemed like we could lay Terawhiti if we sailed high on starboard tack. However the main tidal flow was northwards, carrying us sideways to leeward, making it unlikely that we would lay the cape. Expedition wanted us to ease sheets and reach off at maximum speed to cross the tide as quickly as possible and was promising a significant favourable southerly flowing back eddy in the last two miles off the North Island coast. It seems so counter intuitive to not point high when you can angle the bow 20 degrees above the cape you are trying to lay, but doing so meant we'd be pushing strong adverse tide for a longer time. So, with the rest of the fleet in hot pursuit...
...we cracked off, Joerg suggested we should have a rum, and once we got over to the Northern side of the Strait we picked up a 3 to 4 knot southerly tidal boost. Despite having to tack and sail a couple of miles to make Cape Terawhiti this tidal conveyor belt made all the surrendered windward ground worthwhile. Paul fitted the snap-block to the rail for outboard sheeting
Banana-Boy relished trimming the main and was constantly talking with Joerg about the load on the helm and the heel of the boat and all the theory he's been absorbing since June last year really started to click. Good times.
I took over the helm from Joerg at Cape Terawhiti, and speaking of counter-intuitive... as we tacked up the coast for Karori Light
we had the crew looking for the roughest bit of water. Normally on an upwind leg this would be so you could avoid the chop... however with this strong current running against the wind we actually were trying to stay in the roughest part of the water. As we tacked the wind continued to swing East, with our port tack heading going from 148 to 82 over the course of a couple of hours. This helped us stay in favourable tide all the way to Sinclair Head where the wind almost crapped out entirely. In fact our boat speed was down to a sub-optimal 0.00 knots during our change back to the light number 1 head sail and the true wind was down to 2 or 3 knots. Morale dipped as Prime mover could be seen getting larger. Joerg decided it was definitely time for a rum, and when one emerged from the galley he dryly noted: "You don't have to ask many times at all, do you?" This proved to be a wise call, because it caused the wind to kick back in up to 18 and 19 knots as we took off for the entrance to the harbour.
At Moaning Mini we rehoisted the mast head kite, on the mast head halyard too, which was a bonus, and enjoyed a nice flat run into the harbour, past Steeple Rock Light (whose intentions seemed to be to stay put) and on to Kau Bay. Here we briefly deployed the Mast Head kite as a sea anchor, but then were off for the finish of RPNYC as the blinding sun eased it's way down over the city. It was a spectacular way to end a spectacular day on the water. As we were finishing Prime Mover could be seen having just rounded Point Halswell, a little too close for our liking, once again having put in a very good performance. Once finished we pulled into Chaffers marina and tied up, tidied up and then began to dent the rum supply. We retired to the club and indications were that a 'big one' might have been on the cards. However I cannot report on any of the after match festivities as I was falling asleep, and retreated home to bed for a deep deeeeep sleep.
Of 12 boats we ended up 4th on line and 4th on PHRF
Photos and videos by Mark Holmes, Tony Wells and Banana-Boy
There are rumours of additional video compilations in the pipeline too...
