Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Newport Regatta 2014

Last weekend. My first regatta of the year. Also our district championship. Just down the road in Newport.

44 full rig Lasers. 15 races over 2 days. Wide range of ages from kids to grizzled old grandmasters (like me.) Both genders. Lots of new faces I've not seen on the local regatta circuit before.

Sunny warm weather.

Wind. Oh yes, we had wind. Let the pictures tell the story.


Saturday



Sunday



I learned a lot over the two days.

1. I currently don't have the stamina to sail 15 races in 2 days in winds occasionally gusting over 20mph. I actually sailed in only 4 races on Saturday and 3 on Sunday. On each day I sailed as hard as I could until I was getting so tired that I knew that I would start to make (even more) stupid mistakes and that I wouldn't be enjoying it any more. So I said my goodbyes to the race committee and sailed back to the beach. Maybe it's partly mental, but it's mainly physical. Hey, I'm "pushing seventy" as my Dad was fond of saying when he was about my age. I do it for fun and when it's starting to be "not fun" on any given day it's time to quit.

My attitude to regatta racing is basically the same as it was in the summer of 2012 which I summed up in a blog post titled Sailing Philosophy with Crappy Chart. If I sail more multi-day regattas and sail more races each time (and eat more spinach) I'm sure I will get fitter and eventually end up completing all the races. If I don't, I won't. I yam what I yam.



2. There is no practice for racing in large fleets that compares to actually racing in large fleets. I've done a lot of sailing, mainly with one partner or in small fleets, over the past few weeks, but I still felt very rusty on the first day at Newport. On Saturday my starts were poor, I made bad strategic decisions, and my mark rounding tactics were mediocre. In the 44 boat fleet I had several finishes in the low 30s and one in the mid 20s. Not good…

And yet…

I was having fun. And my competitive juices were flowing. I really felt that if I could get my act together I could place a lot higher. It seemed that there were about half a dozen boats at the back of the fleet that I could easily beat and then a large group of 12-15 boats ahead of me… but not far ahead. Maybe it was an optical illusion but it seemed that I only needed to make a small improvement in my starts or my boat speed or my tactics at marks and I would be able to pass that big clump of boats in front of me and break into the top 20. Maybe.

And in the first two races on Sunday that was exactly what happened. I think I was just more comfortable with sailing in a regatta with a largish fleet again. I wasn't consciously doing anything very different but I seemed to be finding a clear lane to the favored side of the course soon after the start, I was thinking ahead about which sides of the downwind legs I wanted to sail, and I wasn't totally screwing up every mark rounding. I was beating some of the sailors who had been consistently ahead of me on Saturday. And it felt good. I scored a 16 and a 21 in the first two races. Much better than Saturday. (Although it must be said that attrition of the fleet due to breakages, capsizes, too much Bacardi on Saturday night, and over eagerness on black flag starts was also a factor in boosting my scores.)

And in the third race on Sunday, I managed to kick it up another notch. I was really warmed up now and had good boat speed upwind and downwind. All that practice at Little Compton over the past three weeks was paying off. I nailed the starboard tack lay line perfectly on the first beat and rounded the mark way up in the fleet. I was catching good rides on the waves on the first reach and managed to hang close to the leaders. It felt weird but I felt like I was sailing better because I was surrounded by better company than I had been hanging out with in the earlier races. Be that as it may, I held off a challenge on the second reach and extended my lead over that boat on the final beat, hiking like a demon and working the boat hard through the waves. I thought I had finished just outside the top ten but it turned out that there were four boats who had been black-flagged in front of me so I actually scored a 7th.

Wow. I was mentally and physically drained, and I figured that I would call it a day and end the regatta on a high note, so that I could revel in the memory of that race for a few weeks and motivate myself for the next regatta.

I sailed back to Fort Adams and derigged my boat. There weren't many people around so I stretched out on my back on the grass in the sunshine and stared at the sky for a few minutes and just reflected on the joy of sailing in the waves and the wind and the sunshine and what a great weekend it had been.


3. In other good news, I think I have a new That Guy.


4. Today, my back hurts.

17 comments:

Baydog said...

http://propercourse.blogspot.com/2005/05/who-is-that-guy.html

George A said...

I must stop reading this blog. Last nite I dreamt that I replaced my Moth Boat with an orange colored laser (actually, I always fancied a lime green one back in the days of lurid hull colors) and was racing against Tillerman. Can't remember the size of the fleet or the outcome but I awoke in a cold sweat. Tillerman: get a Moth. We seldom have the problem of big fleets any more!

Tillerman said...

Quite right George. Do NOT read this blog any more. Proper Course is addictive. Proper Course causes passion for orange hulls. Reading Proper Course while pregnant can cause Laser sailing compulsion in your unborn child. Quitting reading Proper Course now greatly reduces serious risks of suffering from close one-design racing and large regattas.

kiwiyates said...

Ok - so here's a question. When our boat is designed to be changed to suit the conditions/sailor, why is it that Laser sailors seem to so resistant to downsize the sail to suit the forecast conditions or their current ability? I assume you had a Radial class too. Wouldn't it have been even more fun to race Radial and be able to participate more under those conditions? It seems that Laser sailors have big egos and never want to go "down" as though it was going backwards. What do you think?

Tillerman said...

Good point kiwiyates. I think it deserves a whole blog post to explain my current confused and muddled (and egotistical) thinking on the R word. Watch this space!

Tillerman said...

My back still hurts.

I've tried everything. Scotch. Beer. Yoga. Ibuprofen.

Being old sucks.

Doc Häagen-Dazs said...

I need to take my own advice before I offer it. So this is what I am going to do: Search for an age-appropriate boat to sail in my twilight years.

Tillerman said...

Good advice Doc. My friend is 10 years older than me and he's still winning world masters championships in his Laser so I reckon I'm good for at least another 10 years in the Laser.

As Bob Marley almost said, “If it's amazing, it won't be easy. If it's easy, it won't be amazing. If it's worth it, you wont give up. If you give up, you're not worthy. ... Truth is, every boat is going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for.”

kiwiyates said...

Thanks Tillerman. I think it would be a good discussion too. Here in Florida, we try to maximize the fun while trying to level the playing field. Since we get so many light days, all the kids go up to Full. Only the few heavy days, the adults go down to Radial (with some convincing). Whats the point of 1/2 the fleet going in because "its to windy for me" (young or Masters). This means we have more boats on the start line, more even competition, more races and more fun. Isn't that the goal? Looking forward to a lively discussion...

Dave in Assonet said...

Being old sucks. But, it beats never having the chance to enjoy "being old". ; )

Tillerman said...

Well said Dave. I can't complain. Two days of Laser racing in superb conditions last weekend. And the three big grandkids at our house this weekend. There's nothing quite like the patter of six little feet running towards our bedroom at 5:30 in the morning.

O Docker said...


My ability to ride a bike has paralleled your ability to sail a Laser.

First, there was the silly idea of pushing fifty, then the more sobering but still amusing notion of pushing sixty.

But now I too am pushing seventy, and it's the first decade that seems to be pushing back.


George A said...

Amen to the push back as one nears 70 years. I've backed way down on cycling--still have a Raleigh Team Pro frame waiting for me to build it with period correct components. Will I ever ride it? In dinghy racing I've backed away from the fastest, most demanding Classic designs but still can enjoy a breezy day in my Europe dinghy, converted back to Moth spec. As for figure skating let's just say that if you haven't got your axle by age 30, you probably ain't gonna ever...

Marshall Marine's 15 foot "Sandpiper" increasingly looks appealing as a boat I could sail well into geezerdom.

/Pam said...

Is there a difference in the patter of grandkids feet vs kids feet? Is one much sweeter than the other ... sort of like still sailing a Laser when you're pushing 70?

Tillerman said...

Yes /Pam. Our grandchildren collectively have 12 feet (although 4 of then are not pattering yet.) Our kids only have 4 feet and they are well beyond the pattering stage.

/Pam said...

Was making the perhaps, too subtle, point that you're in the bonus stage of your life ... the patter of grandkids feet (as opposed to kids) and still sailing a Laser at your age ... Congrats!

Tillerman said...

Thanks Pam. Got to go. Grandkid #1 wants help with her craft project.

Post a Comment