Can you say Brrrrr? or Mid-Winters number 4 (or "A view from the back of the pack")

Sequoia Yacht Club Mid-Winters Race #4 2011

The local news outlets were aquiver with the idea of snow at sea level this weekend. Forecasts were being updated constantly, 'Snow to 500 feet or Lower', they were saying. The white stuff was to begin falling at 4 a.m.

There was frost on the docks, an east wind and an outgoing tide. The tide was something I hadn't planned on, it represented a change in the usual scheme of things. Up until then, each of the Mid_Winters races had been held on an incoming tide offering me speedy passage down to RWC (Redwood City Harbor) and usually a good return north as well.

I had brought clothing for cold, this was likely to be the coldest day of the year, cycling tights under the pants, two pair of of woolen socks, a tech shirt with fleece on top of it and then my super warm Native American woven sweater (thanks Mom). The sweater alone must weigh between 5 and 10 lbs. Put my foul weather bibs over that and a good knit cap and gloves.

Out the harbor and a run to the San Mateo bridge. There was a cargo ship heading north and the usual tightly knit flocks of birds wheeling here and there, when I noted another sailboat headed south behind me. It was much larger and hung to the channel where I, with a draft of 4 feet can cut a corner here or there, even on the falling tide. As we neared the bridge she unfurled her jib and really started to over take me. I had rigged my own thinking of the amount of wind and ran up mine. She handily passed me and I watched carefully as she looked to be cutting inside of one of the channel marks. Some alarm must have gone off as she (the boats name was "Sweet Grapes") veered back out into deeper water. During the race, Dave and I watched another yacht go aground in this general area near the starting line.

Heading down the channel, fighting the tide, I dropped the jib and gave Dave a call asking that he sign "Dayspring" in as I might be a few minutes late for the start of the skippers meeting. Rounding the bend in the channel I got an eyeful of at least 30 small sailboats and their support boats, FJ's and Opti's all racing or warming up to race. Throttled back and took my time getting through. I tied up behind Sweet Grapes and headed up to the SYC clubhouse. Late, but not too late. I got the course marks and had a pleasant chat with a club member who thought, maybe, we could work out some kind of remote or phone check-in for those of us coming south to participate. Sounds good to me.

Dave came in a few minutes later and we made our pit stops before heading back down the dock. Man these are long days on the water for me, but I do enjoy it. We laid out the spinnaker stuff and uncovered the main sail. Dave put on his cold weather outfit and off we went. "Head Rush" the Antrim 27 and race leader was tacking out the channel while we motored after her. The tide was now OUT (actually still going out) and there were mud flats where I had never seen them before, even a mud-bar (can't bring myself to call it a sandbar) sticking out of the water. Once we were to deep water we raised the main in light winds, but winds nonetheless. It was taking us some effort to get back to the line against the tide. At 15 minutes to go I put the motor back down and got us to the right side of the line. Now it was a battle to keep from crossing the line early. As we worked the line we went toward the shallow end and noted one beige hulled boat not moving at all with sails up, she was aground in the mud and we tacked back to keep from joining her.

For the first time we were in first. Dave said we should take a picture and I had left my camera at home, we were busy anyway. The winds remained out of the east and boats with more waterline quickly put us backward. We did our best to point high, but we kept sliding downhill. We had a chance or two to try not to follow the fleet into wind holes, but we followed anyway. When the wind clocked more north, we watched and waited for the wind to get to us. The winds did not do us any favors, just as we would reach a mark it would seem to shift, when we would raise our spinnaker the wind moved to the beam. We kept at it. It wasn't until after the leeward mark with one more run to windward that we just had to laugh. We had watched all the other boats enjoy a nice ride back to the windward mark with winds on the beam more or less when they clocked around to the northwest just for us. This put the mark directly windward and we got to fight an incoming tide and wind on the nose back to the mark. The nice thing was the wind wasn't light anymore. Was a respectable 10 or 11 mph solid. We made good time to the start finish and could maybe make out one of the other boats going up the channel.

So, we turned for home, and it quickly became apparent why Sweet Grapes was spending the night is RWC. With wind and tide against us and nightfall and hour or two away, it was miserable. The fetch kept building (wind waves) and to make any headway, we decided to drop the sails and try motoring straight into it. This resulted in a two hour epic bash with water flying over the bow and half the boat coming off each wave. i felt bad for Dave when he had to secure the jib again when it came loose. The bow was plunging into waves.

The one highlight of the return trip was after the sun had gone below the coastal range, the entire eastern foothills lit up with orange beacons as the sun reflected off hundreds of glass panes. It was beautiful, maybe even magical if I could have felt my toes. I don't think my feet have been that cold since I was a kid in the mid-west.

What followed was the fastest putting the boat to bed I have ever been part of. We grabbed the wet sails, torn spinnaker (small tear from catching on the booms reefing hardware) and stuffed everything into my car, heater set to immolate.