2003 Sandusky Islands Race (attempt) by Mike Fahle
Deb Schaeffer asked me to write about the Sandusky Islands
race from the Kanza perspective. Kan-Za is an F-28R that Lou Young owns. The
crew is Lou, his brother Doug Young, Steve Spitler, and me. Only three other
multihulls were racing; my understanding is that they were: an F-27 with just
one guy and his young daughter aboard, a Newick 38 whose report we have already
read (very interesting), and a familiar competitor, BattleCat, a Stiletto 30.
They let us start first at the pin end of the line in good breeze. We had just
sailed parallel to the starting line at slow speed for the final two minutes and
at 15 seconds to go we bore off to a beam reach and hit the line at the starting
gun at full speed. The leg was a beam reach to the true wind but at speed (over
20 mph) we were trimmed to a close reach. The farther into the lake we went the
bigger the waves got. We all moved out and back as far as possible to keep the
leeward hull bow from digging in when the puffs hit. I steered from about
halfway out, straddling the rear beam so that I had leverage against the main
hull to steer forcefully in any direction as needed due to the waves acting
randomly on the three hulls. This put me in direct line of the spray flying off
the main hull which quickly soaked me even with top and bottom foul weather gear
on before starting. Only Doug was smart enough to start out with a drysuit on!
We passed the leading monohull 22 minutes into the race, almost doubling their speed since they started 20 minutes before us. The wind and seas continued to increase gradually and getting close in to the east shore in the lee of Kelleys Island provided temporary relief in the form of flat water and reduced wind. The romp to Middle Island from Kelleys was spent discussing reefing the main since we would have only a minute or so of lee behind that small island. We later learned from BattleCat that they saw us reefing there and thought they would pass us and after rounding Middle regretted not reefing there also. We did not see the other two boats anymore and rounded into the beat to North Bass Island in big waves.
After sailing for several minutes on port tack we decided to tack to take us under the bass islands to get into smaller seas. As we sailed in toward the islands the seas did moderate even as the wind gradually increased. We thought that tacking would be through maybe 100 or more degrees because we were traveled down 3/4s of the way even with the reef. The jib has full length battens that allowed us to trim it slightly eased when needed to open the slot and minimize back winding the main. That also allowed me to feather when needed to reduce power but to fall off and get back up to full speed quickly when needed. So we ended up over standing the layline as we tacked through just 80 degrees, something we still do not understand! Then we learned we had to reach off even more to clear a reef at the northeast corner of North Bass. At least that allowed us to go from about eight mph to close to twenty again! This is when the waves quickly got bigger as we came away from the islands and Lou took a wind reading that showed the apparent at about 35 mph about seven feet above the windward ama. Then the winded suddenly got stronger and several times it felt like the jib alone would knock us over. The main traveler was already all the way out and Steve was playing the sheet. He would ease it when about a foot of dagger board would show as we flew the main hull going upwind.
I have often said that my Newick Native, "Alacrity", needs a gale to make it
go, but we didn't bargain for what happened on the Sandusky Islands Race.
Let's start at the beginning.
After my first ever venture into sailboat racing at the tail end of the 2002
season, my appetite was wetted for more ego building and proof that I can
make the old wooden tub go fast. Regretfully I could not do the Mills
because our eldest daughter, Emily, had her High School Graduation that
weekend. Since I did the right thing for the family that weekend, it was
only right that they should all crew for me on the Sandusky Islands Race.
Little did they know what was in store for them.
In order to minimize the torture for Emily and our younger daughter, Alison,
they drove to Sandusky on Independence Day while Diana and I delivered
Alacrity to SSC. We set off from our home port at Lighthouse Harbor on
Otter Creek at a few minutes before 11 am. The forecast was for late
afternoon storms but we hoped to outrun them. With the wind out of the SW
at 10 to 15 we cruised steadily at 7 to 9 kts. As we passed West Sister
Island, Noaa radio was forecasting storms after 2 pm. The wind had dropped
and we were motor sailing. About an hour later the sky blackened and we
prepared to shorten sail. I was watching a monohull a couple of miles
behind us, as the water on the horizon turned to white spray. He did not
have all sails down when it hit him and he broached in his struggle to
regain control. We VERY quickly dropped all sail and the squall hit us
within a minute or two. The wind gusts were quite strong and lasted for
about 30 minutes. The calm after the storm meant that we motored all the
way to Sandusky. The total distance was 42 nautical miles and we arrived at
about 4:30 pm for an average speed of 7.5 kts. Marvin Lampi, who was
surprised to see us, guided us to the floating carpeted dock near the boat
ramp. Not red carpet but royal treatment nevertheless. Our girls arrived
at about 6 pm with additional jackets and rain gear. That evening, we
enjoyed the SSC hospitality with chicken dinner, Budweiser and the Cedar
Point fireworks. What could be nicer to prepare us for Saturday's race?
At breakfast, the weather channel was warning of severe thunderstorms,
seemingly from Kentucky to Wisconsin and due to hit us in the afternoon. No
problem, we would be home before they could catch us. So it was with
excitement that we set off for the start, knowing that we would have the
winds to make the old tub go. The long course started first with the two
PHRF classes at 9:00 and 9:10, then the four multihulls at 9:20. It was
blowing out of the west at 20 + and the first leg was north to Middle
Island. So full main and furling genoa were called for if we were to have a
hope of staying with Battle Cat.
At the start, Kanza took the windward end and crossed several seconds before
Battle Cat, with Alacrity very close to leeward near the committee boat.
Eric Ravn (is that right?) on his newly acquired F27 brought up the rear.
Kanza led the pack and steadily pulled away. Alacrity shadowed Battle Cat
initially but very slowly lost ground. We were thundering along at a steady
14 to 16 knots with a huge strain on the jib sheet. Every time I heard the
jib sheet crack on the winch as it tightened during a gust, my first
reaction was that a wooden stringer had popped in the ama. Perhaps this is
what every wooden boat owner goes through and I am not sure I will ever be
able to fully relax in such conditions and not expect the boat to fall
apart.
We had just passed the 9:10 am starters when the jib sheet decided to let go
right at the bowline. The combination of strength reduction at the knot and
ageing lines contributed to the failure. The windward sheet was quickly
brought over and we were back in business, but Battle Cat had pulled out a
significant lead by then. At 15 knots a boat covers 1/4 mile in a minute!
The wind continued to strengthen and we were becoming seriously overpowered
so we put a reef in the main. The 9:00 am starters were quickly overtaken
between Kelley and Middle Islands. In the process we nearly ran down one of
the monohulls (whose name escaped me in the heat of the moment). Later in
the clubhouse some of the crew on the windward rail were pleased to have a
cooling spray as we went past.
As we continued past Middle Island it was clear that conditions were
worsening, particularly the sea state. We continued well past the island
before attempting to tack but we stopped dead in the water and had to jibe
around. The windward jib sheet stopper knot was ripped right through the
turning block and we had a mess on our hands. Winds had to have been in the
region of 35 kts and it was well past time to furl the genoa. It was
impossible to furl by hand and, although it is a no-no, the winch had to be
used. I ran out of furling line with at least a third of the sail still
out. I went forward to set the staysail and try to hand wind in the genoa.
No chance, in fact I managed to mess up my finger in the attempt. So I
crawled back to the cockpit to get a long screwdriver with which to finish
the furling job. The main was dropped because we were now grossly (as
opposed to seriously) overpowered By the time this was all accomplished I
was very tired, but isn't it sweet when the genny stops flapping! We were
back under control with staysail only, our smallest option, and still doing
10 - 15 kts. By this time we decided we wanted to live another day and
called it quits, so we pointed south and took Middle Island on its west side
and Kelley's on the east. We encountered some of the highest gusts (which
someone later said were measured at 70 kts) during the run to Kelley with 8+
foot waves. The lee of Kelley Island was crowded with various power boats
and a few sailboats. We continued on to Cedar Point very comfortable with
our sail plan and Alacrity's handling. Our speed gradually dropped from 15+
to 7 ish as the wind died to 20 kts. What a pleasure. We were all soaked
to the skin, and in spite of the reasonable temperature, we were cold and
shivering. We had not brought our proper foul weather gear. It was so nice
to get back to the club for a hot shower. We thought we were the only ones
to quit, but gradually the fleet returned one by one, each with a tale to
tell. During all this my crew was remarkably calm with only the occasional
panic yell as we appeared to be out of control. Of course appearances can
be deceptive.
There were many lessons learned but the main one was quit while you are
alive. As for the next race, anyone know of a willing crew?
Brian Thorpe
