From Great River Race 2011

Some folk consider this as a bit of a lark and are happy just to finish , but perhaps 25% the fleet of 350 boats  are serious racers . No guesses as to  which party we belonged to then , although with oarsmen over 40 described as “veterans” , Ben would have his hands full making up for his greybeard father over 22 miles and 3 hours of rowing.

The good news is that a strong flood makes it in effect a 15 mile race , whereas the bad news was that strong headwinds  with gusts up to 25 knots were forecast , and anyone who has ever rowed in such conditions  will know the extra effort that is required to maintain headway , let alone race.  We were given a fairly good handicap of + 12 minutes , with some of the faster boats starting up to 30 mts behind us , but this meant that if we were to win we would be out on our own ahead of the fleet and rowing against the clock for the whole race.

And this is precisely what happened.  By Tower bridge we  had made up the time on the early starters , possibly because the wind against tide created a rough ride that saw our crew pumping and bailing fit to bust to keep us afloat  , whereas others were looking distinctly waterlogged. Then the heavens opened and squall after hail ridden squall swept the river as we pulled along , completely on our own save the accompanying rib.

As Richmond lock hove in sight (2.5 miles to go) the rib  assured us we were 500m clear of the next boat , but were as flabbergasted as us to find that far from having its gates open for traffic , the lock was shut , forcing us to a standstill.

After an age the gates started to open , but not before a Celtic Longboat and two dragon boats had come racing round the bend to join us , and once we were eventually allowed through they sped off into the distance. Eventually we crossed the line in 9th place , but if the 5 or more minutes we were forced to wait are taken account of - our time would put us at least  in the first 3 , and possiblymake us the winner.

The jury is still deliberating a week later , and if we were upset at the time , sanity has now prevailed (” its only a friggin boat race !”) and I suppose we will  just have to train harder for next year and see if we can make it third time lucky!

Many thanks for your support in securing the blog prize for us - it makes Chris’s achievement in coming 4th in the double handed even more impressive as I was down below ( in the warm and dry , tee hee) blogging away whilst he did a one and a half handed Fastnet.
I gather there is an ugly rumour going around that I wont know how to use it. All I can say is you can all b………..

Actually , how DO you start the bloody thing?

Philip

Team WAFL had their hearts in their mouths. Our met information suggested zero wind by midnight and we fully expected to have to spend the night at anchor but some little thundery cells powered us ( and everbody else!) across the bay. Our ETA at Rame head was tantalising – 2345 hrs – although the breeze was dying for the last two hours as we closed the land and it slipped ominously into the predicted calm period. Astern of us the night filled with green and red lights – unbelievable numbers of them – whilst ahead the big class one boats who had overtaken us appeared to have stopped in yet another line abreast under the cliff.

We opted to go outside the first group and it seemed to pay , but as more and more boats piled in , what little wind  there was ( and by this stage we were excited if we had 2 knots of it) was swallowed up . What is more , the fair tide that had helped us all east was now replaced by an ebb past the breakwater, and the reach that was powering the boats from astern turned into a beat against the tide . Then the piece de la resistance – you couldn’t cross the line on starboard ! So there we were ,  surrounded  by 200 of the 350 boat fleet  in the pitch dark  just about to cross when yet another large boat  joined the party on starboard , scattering the next bunch of port tackers in a bizarre slow motion ballet.

The radio was going mad as 200 boats reported, as per the SI’s , that they were about to finish. No kidding guys – the whole bloody fleet was about to finish and it would have been more sensible for the few yachts in the universe who WEREN’T within 100 metres of finishing  to radio in and tell the race officer not to worry about them!

By and large it was  a good humoured affair , although inevitably there were a few who thought they were back in the Oppie nationals . Our priority became to finish without  being hit or going on the rocks by the breakwater ( did I mention that someone did this , thus adding to the already overloaded  radio traffic as they called for help !) , and gradually the whole raft ghosted across the line.   

So now its time for a bottle of champagne and some serious snoring , and tomorrow we will get down to the serious business of telling tall tales of high adventure. I have a feeling that however extraordinary ( and unlikely) those tales will be , nothing will quite match up to the bizarre events of tonight.

Goodnight.

We took our NW wind most of the way to Mullion Cove and tacked up the back eddy whilst a line of boats parked up offshore. There was a light Southerly (team WAFL think it was a local sea breeze) at the Lizard itself and it was the transition between this and the NW wind that was holding up the fleet. All the best bits of fun have moments of terror and ours came when the wind switched off just as we were negotiating the rocks at the point. We had about .5 of a knot of fair eddy and no steerage ( its always rough here)and there was no knowing if this would deposit us on the rocks , so we had the unmentionable device (k—-) out and ready to go . Chris managed to get the merest hint of steerage and we were clear ,with the kite up and seemingly hundreds of boats parked the other side of the headland.

The next half hour was frantic as we gybed and wriggled and trimmed our way between about 4 conflicting sets of zephyrs ( 4 diffent local sea breezes vying for supremacy- Ok I admit I made that up!) but now a NW wind has filled in across the bay and we are off with hordes of boats chasing ½ mile astern.

Chris spends a lot of time on the AIS , and from the speed and vectors we can deduce what the wind is doing on varying parts of the course. It may have been designed for collision avoidance but he uses it as a local meteorological tool. What with me sending e-mails and Chris glued to the chartplotter it’s a good thing Festina is used to sailing herself for long periods of time!

We have the feeling that this is not Neptunes last throw and there may be more park ups before the night is out. If there isn’t , the finish team is going to have one hell of a headache as 50 boats finish line astern. If it does go light again the WAFL plan is to find a nice lobster pot to tie up to for the night.

I suspect you lot will be getting more sleep than us tonight!

Wrong! The sky cleared over Mounts Bay with the exception of some strange thin lentiucular clouds and all of a sudden we had 15 knots from the NW. And we had it first. So 5 out of 10 for team WAFL - 5 for a result but nul pointes for theory. Actually now I come to think of it I have experienced a sudden 30 knots from the NW in this exact spot out of a similar deep blue sky.
So, all of a sudden our tidal plans have to be brought forward a couple of hours, which means rock hopping round the point. There look to be a few boats trying it already up ahead so we can just keep outside the wrecked yachts and should be safe.
Only joking! And what will we find the other side of the headland ? Possibly a flat calm!
Stay tuned.

Oh , and the K word you are NOT going to mention. Suffice to say that retrieving one two handed in 80 metres would need an awful lot of the above mentioned secret weapon.

As you can imagine Chris and I are wriggling our toes with delight about such arcane mysteries and the mood on the boat is one of happy , obsessive delight . It makes me wonder about our sanity as most sensible folk would prefer a straight run in, but this little scenario is the hand we have been dealt and it will do just fine.

Sadly we have spread out a bit too much . Was it really me who foolishly predicted light downwind legs that would suit our lightly laden boat. We have been power reaching in 16 knots and the piece of elastic which has connected us to Rapscallion throughout the race is being seriously stretched , whilst Persphone is appearing ever larger like an avenging angel on our port quarter. However even if the conditions are not favourable to our own little race within a race , it is champagne sailing requiring only one of us on watch so we are warm ,fed (!) and rested and waiting for the next little brain teaser which will await us at the Scillies , or the Lizard or indeed anywhere in the next 150 miles.

We may be homeward bound but there’s a lot of racing still to do.

The 6 mile leg to Pantaneus buoy was dead downwind , against the tide, and in 4 knots of wind. If I said this was nerve wracking my guess is that any non sailor would think I was potty. I mean , could it be more gentle. But after no sleep in the night as we tried to keep the old bus going in the light stuff, working out best gybing angles , VMG’s , tidal vectors etc was fairly hardcore , especially as the first boat round would scoot off with the tide under her. Rapscallion sailed a blinder , but we were fairly close even if we were held out by another 2 hander having difficulty with their gybes.

So now we are fetching homewards in 10 knots of breeze with rather fewer passing opportunities than on the way out. Our immediate priorities are work out the tidal vectors , check the gribs and then take it in turns to catch up on the Z’s.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

Rapscallion is just a few boat lengths away and Jamie is logged on to the internet . He tells us we are back up to 3rd in the two handed class , although if anyone out there has any wind , that may not last long! After long debate we decided to head for the shore in search of a land breeze. I have lost more races by adopting this tactic than I can remember – this reputed phenomenon being about as rare as the Holy Grail , but low and behold the afternoon breeze died to be replaced by an offshore breeze smelling deliciously of farmyard and we hoisted a shy kite and gained quite a few miles on those around us, and then came the great park up.

Presumably someone will turn the wind on again at some time , and it looks like a light downwind return home. On the way out here we have been at something of a disadvantage vis a vis the fully crewed boats who have been able to stack the crew on the rail and sail higher and faster. Now its our turn. Without 6 extra crew , plus kit food and water we must be ½ a ton lighter which must be to our advantage. It will also be a good excuse to make serious inroads into our stores to lighten ship still further.

If anyone is in touch with Nigel on Persephone , tell him to jettison his guns and throw his water overboard- were coming after him!