Upwind Speed in the RS Aero

Another Self Coaching video from Penny Clark, this one on upwind speed.

The good bit - i.e. the RS Aero bit - starts around 1:20.

Starting Drills in the RS Aero

Thanks to Judith Krimski, our awesome New England Laser District Secretary, for drawing my attention to this excellent video on how to practice starting skills by British Olympian turned coach, Penny Clark.

It shows some starting drills with a Laser Radial, an RS Aero and an RS 200 doing the demonstrations.

Especially nice to see a coaching video for the RS Aero. Let's hope we see a few more in the coming months.

Sailing Without My Trousers

There is no doubt that I am beginning to forget things as I get older.

A few months ago I was convinced I had lost my wallet along with all the stuff in it like cash, debit card, credit cards, driving license and really important stuff like my US Sailing Membership Card. I went to all the trouble of calling the liquor store where I thought I might have lost it, notifying the police, notifying my bank and credit card companies, getting a replacement driving license, and of course notifying US Sailing. Then a few weeks later Tillerwoman found my wallet in a drawer in the dining room - a different drawer in the dining room from where I normally put my wallet so I won't forget where I put it.

I must have forgotten which was the drawer where I normally put my wallet so I won't forget where I put it.

When I am blogging I sometimes forget how to spell words like defense, aluminum and analyze.

When I go sailing I sometimes forget to check the tide.



But on the Sunday before last I did something I have never done before.

I forgot to put my trousers on when I went sailing.



The usage of the words "pants" and "trousers" is a bit different in American English and Real English. So let me explain for my three American readers.

In Real English "trousers" are an item of clothing worn from the waist to the ankles, covering both legs separately.

In American English this item of clothing is called "pants."

Whereas in Real English "pants" means underwear.

 Pants

Trousers

I didn't go sailing without my pants. I went sailing without my trousers.



No, wait. Those pictures are a little misleading.

When I go sailing in the winter (defined as any time between October and April in these parts) I usually wear three layers, a Gill drysuit and underneath two layers

1. Long thermal underwear - pants.
2. Highly technical "mid layer" sailing clothing from Gill - trousers.

My Gill highly technical mid layer trousers are a few years old. The current equivalent Gill highly technical mid layer trousers are these...

Gill highly technical mid layer trousers

According to the Gill website these trousers have "a smooth technical face fleece with a brushed waffle interior providing excellent stretch and warmth while incorporating wicking and breathable properties." Gill call them "Thermogrid" trousers.

Don't they sound toasty?



Anyway, a couple of Sundays ago I went down to Newport and rigged my Laser and put on all my sailing gear and launched my Laser into the frigid waters of Narragansett Bay. And then on the sail out to the start line I noticed a strange coolness in my nether regions - not to mention a distinct lack of padding in my nether regions - and realized I had forgotten my trousers.

No brushed waffle interior. No smooth technical face fleece.

I have no idea how I forgot to put on my trousers.

I may be getting old.



Of course it wasn't as embarrassing as, say, going out to a restaurant without my trousers. Or even going to the mall without my trousers. Or riding the Underground (subway in American English) without trousers.

No Trousers Day on London Underground

I was wearing my drysuit so none of the other sailors could see I was sailing without my trousers. So I decided to tough it out. What's a bit of cold in the nether regions?



I didn't sail well that day.

I only had one good start and that turned out to be a general recall. (Why does that always happen?)

I seemed slower than the rest of the fleet and was making bad technical and strategic decisions.

I couldn't really blame it on not wearing my trousers.

Or could I? I have heard some women claim that men's brains are not in their heads, but instead they are in a part of the body normally kept warm by trousers.

Maybe some women are right?

---

On Monday last week I went sailing by myself in Newport.

I remembered to put on my trousers.

It was a very pleasant hour or so of light wind practice.

---

Yesterday I didn't feel like going racing with the Newport Laser fleet.

I can't remember why.

Has my bad experience of sailing without trousers put me off Laser racing?

Am I pining to get back in the RS Aero?

I forget.

What is your most embarrassing moment of forgetfulness?

The Weather is Here - I Wish You Were Beautiful

In the pre-dawn hours on Sunday morning at Proper Course World Headquarters, the temperature fell to almost 40 degrees below freezing. When the sun came up we were treated to this unusual view of "sea smoke" over the bay.

The fleet captain of the Newport Laser fleet cancelled our racing on Sunday because he felt it would be a bit too chilly for racing.

On Monday morning, it was only just below zero degrees Fahrenheit at sunrise and we could see that Mount Hope Bay was covered in ice.

On Wednesday the sailing team from Roger Williams University posted the photo below on their Facebook page, with this comment...

First day of sailing at home last year: March 17.
First day of sailing at home this year: February 17.
And it was awesome!
(Not confirmed, but possibly the earliest start date in the last decade.

Good for them. RWU is on the other side of the bay from us. Proper Course World Headquarters is somewhere on that ridge, a tad to the right of the dinghies.

I went sailing "at home" (i.e. in Rhode Island) on Wednesday too.

I sailed my Laser in Newport along with a friend in his RS Aero.

I was hoping to stage a repeat of this epic photo of the first launch of an RS Aero in New England waters in 2015.

Sadly, although the first splash of the RS Aero in 2016 was almost a month earlier than in 2015, there wasn't enough snow left to re-stage the photo.

So we blasted around Brenton Cove enjoying the balmy 45 degree weather in a chunky 12-17 mph south-westerly.

At least I was blasting around in my Laser. My companion in the RS Aero spent a lot of time doing something more useful like practicing his starts by holding station on buoys and sailing slowly and sailing backwards and other such nonsense that he thinks will help him beat me on the start line at the RS Aero US Nationals in the Gorge this year. Ha!

Life is too short to sail slowly on purpose.

There was another guy out sailing a Laser too. Apparently he likes to come down to Sail Newport one or two afternoons a week for some Laser practice at this time of year, so I may well go sail with him some days over the coming weeks.

It was an exhilarating afternoon. Especially exhilarating when getting splashed in the face by the icy cold water on wild planing reaches. Even more exhilarating when I realized the neck of my drysuit has stretched a bit and the icy cold water was going down my neck. O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

And so to the Coddington Brewery for some French onion soup and a pulled pork sandwich with curly fries washed down with a couple of glasses of IPA.

Gratuitous photo of 

pulled pork sandwich with curly fries 

at Coddington Brewery

stolen without permission from Yelp

purely to keep Baydog happy.

I felt a bit achy when I woke up this morning.

I went for a 6 mile run on the East Bay Bike Path this morning.

I think I'll take a nap now.

Six Words of Sailboat Racing Advice - Learning Experiences

A few days ago I challenged readers to give me their best racing advice in six words.

There have been dozens of wise - and flippant - responses and they are still coming in.

But I wondered, what have I learned from my own racing experiences recently? How could I sum up those learnings in six words?



Racing with the Newport Laser frostbite fleet a couple of weeks ago, I discovered a counter-intuitive way to sail the first beat of a race in a highly competitive fleet and arrive at the windward mark up with the leaders. See Hubcap Diamond Star Halo 56th Sail.

Me

In one race I started at the "wrong" end of the line, I sailed the "wrong" side of the course, and I banged the corner.

But that meant I sailed the whole race in clear air and did the minimal number of tacks. In that race that strategy worked better (for me) than fighting for position on the crowded end of the line, fighting for a clear lane against all the top sailors in the fleet, and being bounced around doing multiple tacks in traffic on the busy side of the course.

Clean start and clear air wins.

Last month I sailed my RS Aero in a local fun pursuit race against an assorted menagerie of craft, the Archipelago Rally.  I came 2nd in the 43 boat fleet. See How I (Almost) Won the 2015 Archipelago Rally.

Some other sailors (behind me)

But I was very lucky. The tide situation favored the faster boats, but even more importantly the leading boats made not one, but two navigation errors! On a course that only had three rounding marks! And I happened to be placed to take advantage of their mistakes. It helps to be lucky but the real moral is...

Know the course. Write it down.

In July I sailed in the RS Aero North Americans in the Columbia River Gorge. I had a blast but on the first day of racing I capsized in three of the four races. I was pretty slow at capsize recoveries and my results were mediocre. See RS Aero Capsizes - Mission Accomplished and RS Aero North Americans.

Some other sailors (way in front of me)

In retrospect it was apparent that I had not practiced enough in the kind of conditions I should have expected in the Gorge - strong winds and short waves. Almost all of my RS Aero sailing in the summer had been done on a lake, on flat water, and usually in quite light winds. There are places in Rhode Island where I could have found conditions more similar to the Gorge and I should have done some RS Aero training there before going to the NAs. (I should have practiced capsize recoveries more too.)

Train for the conditions you expect.

Next year it will be different.

How about you?

Do you have any "learning experiences" from races or regattas that you can sum up in 6 words of advice?

The Best Racing Advice in Six Words

If you only had six words to pass on some advice about sailboat racing to a new racer, what would they be?

For example, the first answer that springs to my mind when faced with this question would be the somewhat cynical...

"Win the start. Extend your lead."

But I am sure you can do much better than that.

Please leave your answer in the comments to this post.

---

This post was inspired by the post The Best Cruising Advice in Six Words on Windtraveler the excellent cruising blog about that "estrogen-rich family" Brittany, Scott, Isla, Haven and Mira. (The estrogen quote is theirs, not mine.)

That post was inspired by a recent New York Times contest calling for parenting advice in "six words or less" which was, itself, inspired by the book The Best Advice in Six Words: Writers Famous and Obscure on Love, Sex, Money, Friendship, Family, Work, and Much More.

Is that what they call a "meme?" Whatever they call it, please participate, and leave your answer in the comments.

Racing advice in six words.

First thing that comes into your head.

Now.

---

This challenge is a little reminiscent of the group writing projects we used to run on this blog.

For example in 2008 I asked people to write blog posts or articles on the theme of Best Sailing Innovation Ever which received 25 entries.

A couple of years later we turned that one on its head and had a group writing project on Worst Sailing Innovation Ever which had 28 entries.

Wurst - Worst. Get it?

Some of our group writing projects have had even more entries than that.

But today's challenge is a lot easier than writing a whole article.

Just six words.

Six words of racing advice.

How hard is that?

Please leave your answer in the comments.

Your name - or nom de plume - would be nice too.

"Nom de plume" is French for "name of pen."  Some stupid name you make up if you don't people to know who you are and, really, who could blame you.

Where was I?

Where am I?

Oh yes. Six words of racing advice.

Submit more than one idea if you feel like it.

In the comments to this post.

Now.

---

I don't know what I will do with all the answers.

Probably put them all in a separate post.

Maybe organize them into categories.

Perhaps use some of the best ideas as jumping off points to write some of my own blog posts, full of insane rambling and half-remembered reminiscences about races in which I used - or failed to use - your advice.

I'm not in this video but it does cover a situation which is pretty typical of my own racing career.

I really do need your advice.

Back to Little Compton

On Monday this erstwhile RS Aero sailor drove down to Little Compton for what turned out to be a superb afternoon of solitary Laser sailing. The trailer parking lot only had one other trailer in it and there was nary another boat in sight on the river when I launched.

The wind was around 5-10 knots but I think it must have been stronger earlier because the waves seemed better than that. It's hard to describe but they are different from Bristol waves. I did some long upwinds and downwinds like I did last year with various sailing friends. The wind seemed to be getting lighter as I sailed but I managed to get some good rides on waves while sailing by the lee.

The lighthouse looked spectacular when I sailed up close to it. I had forgotten what a beautiful spot this is. I think Little Compton may be the best place on the planet for Laser sailing. There are at least 14 reasons why.

Sakonnet Lighthouse

And that's not even counting the fact that JP Morgan used to fish here.

And did you know that the inventor of the three-ring-binder lived in Little Compton?

A three-ring-binder

Where was I? Where am I? Oh yes, Laser sailing in the best place on the planet for Laser sailing.



There is a group of Really Serious Laser Masters Worlds Sailors who have a Training Group that sails out of Third Beach Newport (not in Newport) on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I saw a couple of Lasers (actually a Radial and a Laser I think) come out from Third Beach on the other side of the Sakonnet River just as I was about ready to come in on Monday. They were probably some of those Really Serious Laser Masters Worlds Sailors getting some extra training time in on Monday because of the forecast of thunderstorms and tornadoes and giant hail stones for Tuesday. They probably sailed in the thunderstorm too. They are really serious.

A really serious man

I guess I used to be a Really Serious Laser Masters Worlds Sailor myself. I used to join in with those guys when they had RSLMWSTGs at Third Beach or Bristol in other years. These years I'm only a semi-serious Laser sailor. I'm not going to the Masters Worlds this year like all those guys in the  RSLMWSTG. Been there. Done that. Actually done that six times. Got it out of my system. Ticked it off my bucket list.

My bucket list

Actually I suppose I am a semi-serious semi-Laser semi-Aero sailor these days.

Evelyn's Drive-In looked to be doing a roaring trade as I drove home. Next time I must come earlier with some friends so we can get back to Evelyn's by around 4:30 and snag a table for a leisurely dinner by the side of Nanaquaket Pond.

The outside dining area at Evelyn's
with some tables you could snag.

The lobster roll and fries at Evelyn's

Two of the Tiller family at Evelyn's

Labor Day Weekend 2010

Life is good.

I love my Laser.

I love Little Compton.

I love sailing on my own.

I love Evelyn's

Embrace the Boredom

Boredom is good?

I don't know what to think of this.

I would appreciate your opinion.

There appears to be a whole series of posts and articles lately on the general theme of how boredom is good for you and why you should "embrace the boredom."



For example, James Clear had a chance to talk to a top Olympic coach and ask him the thing we all want to know...

“What’s the difference between the best athletes and everyone else. What do the really successful people do that most people don’t?”  

He briefly mentioned the things that you might expect. Genetics. Luck. Talent.  

But then he said something I wasn’t expecting. “At some point,” he said, “it comes down to who can handle the boredom of training every day and doing the same lifts over and over and over again.”

Hmmm! The boredom of training.

It sounds right, If you are going to be good at anything - running, sailing, playing the guitar - you are going to have to do lots and lots of practice and training.

And sometimes that gets boring. The ones who succeed learn how to "embrace the boredom."

I can see that. The people who rise to the top are mentally tough enough to stick at the training plan and keep working at it even when they are bored with it. They "fall in love with boredom."



But is that really the only way?



When I was training to run marathons I had to do a number of really, really long runs. Longer than the marathon distance itself in some cases. And what's more boring than running? Put one foot in front of the other. Repeat for 30 miles.

I solved it - to an extent - by exploring different places to run. Trails through unfamiliar woods (until the time I got lost and had to run even further than planned to find my way home.) A trail alongside an historic canal in another part of the state. Actually it was still pretty boring at times.



It's much the same with sailing.

The top Olympic sailors are sailing on at least 100 days every year. I think even sailing would quickly become boring if you were doing the same drills with the same people in the same boat at the same place day after day after day.

Of course, we sailors are lucky in that the winds are rarely the same from one day to the next so that introduces some variety into the program.

But we can also avoid boredom and burnout by mixing it up. Sail in different places. Sail on the sea and on lakes and on rivers. Sail on flat water and in waves. Do solo practice. Tune up with one training partner. Attend a group clinic. Sail small regattas. Sail large regattas. Travel to other countries to sail. Sail in different boats.

But surely most of us sail for fun. Why do it at all if it's boring?



What do you think?

Do you have to "embrace boredom" to succeed.

If so, how do you make yourself do that?

Are there other tricks if you want to put in the time to hone your skills to a high level without getting bored out of your mind in the process?

Is embracing boredom the new mindfulness?

Does embracing boredom make you more creative?

Or is boredom just a bore?

Surfing a bore

Stellar!

Why are some days on the water kind of blah - and then just when you least expect it you have a day that brings a huge smile to your face?

Yesterday afternoon was one of those special sailing sessions that make you glad to be alive, glad you sail a Laser, and glad you have such good friends to go Laser sailing with.

The only word to describe it is… stellar.

Stellar - definition:

exceptionally good, outstanding, 

marvelous, outstanding, superb, 

first-rate, out of this world.

The omens were not good at first.

On Monday I had floated the idea to a few friends of sailing Lasers in Bristol on Tuesday afternoon 

We agreed to check the weather forecast on Tuesday morning.

One of my friends was concerned the winds would be too light.

I had seen some forecasts that suggested we would get showers and even thunderstorms.

Tuesday morning was very foggy with no wind.

In the end we decided to go sailing anyway.

At lunch time the fog cleared and a southerly breeze started to build up the bay.

When we launched in Bristol around 2:30pm there was a juicy 10-12 knot breeze from the south that was stirring up some interesting crunchy waves.

We raced WL courses with rabbit starts around a couple of government marks.

Somehow I had got it in my head over the winter that this is about the most boring way imaginable to spend a couple of hours on the water.

I was wrong. We all had a blast.

It was one of those days that repaid hiking hard, sailing the boat flat, and working the boat through the bigger waves upwind. In spite of my sore back on Monday after sailing on Sunday, I threw myself 100% into the fray and worked as hard as I could.

It felt fast upwind and my back wasn't hurting. Is adrenaline a painkiller?

Downwind it was possible to catch rides on some of better waves and I played around with different angles until I found out what seemed fast. I felt loose and relaxed in the boat.

I can't remember the last time I had so much fun in a Laser.

And so to Redlefsens for some pasta and a couple of glasses of Warsteiner Dunkel, and the usual exchange of information about why A was faster than B today and the usual trash talking about all our sailing friends who weren't there. (Only joking people.)

Stellar!

Back to the Laser

I have been neglecting her.

No, it's worse that that. Ever since I took delivery of my RS Aero, I have been totally ignoring her.

We have had so many good times together - and helped each other through a few bad times - for so many years and yet I just put her aside.

Yes it is true. Until Friday I hadn't sailed my Laser at all since that memorable day when my Laser and I crushed my friends in their Aeros on the last race of the day on May 17. Crushed!



Michael O'Brien from Seattle who has also been committing boat bigamy with a Laser and an RS Aero warned me. He said in a comment on A Tale of Two Boats …

"When you switch back to the Laser after sailing the Aero for a while, you will feel like you are driving a truck. The momentum and weight difference is dramatic."

So I took my faithful but neglected old Laser over to Bristol last Friday to give here some attention and renew my relationship with her.

I wasn't sure what to expect.

But it felt good.

It felt familiar

It was fun, even exciting at times.

It wasn't like driving a truck at all.

A truck

Phew! I was seriously worried that sailing an RS Aero for a few weeks might have killed my passion for  Laser sailing. Far from it. In fact it felt so good to be back in the Laser, almost as if my time in the Aero had re-energized my enthusiasm for the Laser. I guess I really am going to be a two boat sailor.

---

The next thing I was interested to explore was an initial answer to the question I asked myself in A Tale of Two Boats - would sailing an Aero help develop sailing skills that would also make be a better Laser sailor.

Sailing upwind in 6-8 knots I did notice three things…

1. I was much more sensitive to weather helm. I think I had got used to sailing the Laser with a heavy helm - because I wasn't sailing the boat flat enough - that I had grown to tolerate it. The Aero is very light on the tiller and now I was more sensitive to when the Laser had weather helm and was naturally trying to reduce it.


2. I was much more active in the boat - moving my upper body in and out a lot to balance the boat. Whether this was because I had got used to doing this in an Aero or whether it was in response to the extra sensitivity when the helm felt too heavy, I don't know. A Laser coach once told me that I am not active enough in the boat; I tended to lock my body in one position and hope that would work all the time. Sailing the Aero seems to have cured me of this fault in a Laser.


3. My tacks seemed a lot smoother and under control compared to how they were before in the Laser. I really don't know why, because I don't really feel I am doing good tacks in the Aero yet. Perhaps I am really comparing my current Laser tacks to my current Aero tacks, but I don't think so. Or perhaps in struggling to get my Aero tacks right I have somehow indirectly made my Laser tacks seem easier.

It's early days yet, and I wasn't comparing my boat speed to another boat. But it does seem that sailing the Aero may develop skills that will positively impact my Laser technique too.

---

On Sunday, I took my Laser out for a sail on Mount Hope Bay. I was expecting to be drifting around practicing my roll tacks, but almost as soon as I launched the wind picked up from under 5 mph to more like 17 gusting into the low 20s from the south-east.

So, I cranked down the cunningham and cranked on the vang and hiked as hard as I could and worked my way through the waves upwind for a couple of miles or more, towards Roger Williams University.

I have nothing positive to report at all about how sailing the RS Aero may have helped my upwind technique in a Laser in stronger winds. In fact quite the reverse. Either I am not hiking hard enough in the Aero, or maybe the Aero hiking position is so different from how you hike in a Laser, that it's no real help when you go back to the Laser. Whatever the reason those two upwind miles felt like damn hard work.

I have a vague recollection that after dinner I fell asleep on the living room floor. This morning my back feels like it always feels when I go back to Laser sailing after too many weeks off.  Sore.

Memo to self: the only way to keep fit enough to hike hard in a Laser is to do a lot of Laser sailing in heavier winds. Seriously.

But going back downwind, even though the wind had dropped a little, was pure pleasure.

I love my Laser

I love sailing on the bay.

I am a two boat sailor.

A Tale of Two Boats

I now own two boats.

A Laser and an RS Aero.

It seems hard to believe but it's less than four weeks since the Aero was delivered.

I have to admit that in those few weeks I have sailed the Aero more times than the Laser, partly because I was desperately trying to learn how to sail the boat properly in preparation for racing in the first RS Aero Regatta in North America this side of the Continental Divide.

But the longer term plan is to split my time more or less equally between the two boats.



The question I have is whether sailing two boats that are similar in some ways (both hiking single-handers) but very different in others (designed in different centuries - one half the weight of the other) will make me a better sailor in either or both boats - or just very confused.

Some of my Laser sailing instincts undoubtedly help me in sailing the Aero. Some of those instincts may be totally wrong for the Aero. I need to unlearn old habits and learn new ones for a new boat.

Some of the challenges I face in learning to sail the Aero might help me with the Laser. Better feel for balancing the boat downwind perhaps? More practice at capsize recoveries maybe?

I don't know.



In his classic book on self-coaching in sailing - SAIL, RACE AND WIN - Eric Twiname lists swapping boats and classes as one of the twelve main ways of learning, right up there with race experience and solo practice and group coaching.

Twiname quotes Garry Hoyt in support of this theory…

It happens to be great fun to learn the quirks and idiosyncrasies of different boats. You will also find that each class emphasizes some particular skill, and if you learn that class you will have learned that particular skill better than anyone else who has not sailed that class.

So what do you think?

Will sailing the RS Aero make me a better Laser sailor?

Will continuing to sail the Laser make me a better RS Aero sailor?

Or do you only become a good sailor in one class by devoting all your time on the water to that one class?



I would really like to to hear your experiences and opinions on this question.

Not Seeing the Wood for the Trees

During some of my Laser training sessions this spring I have tried to work on my starts - specifically the acceleration at the start.

I have tried to focus on each part of those vital seconds before the start - set the vang, bear away, sheet in, heel to leeward, flatten the boat, accelerate off the line etc. etc.

How fast or slow to do each part of the task?

What parts overlap with each other and what parts are sequential?

To scull down or not to scull down?

How many seconds does the whole process take?

What's happening with the tiller at each stage?

Am I leaving the line with the boat flat and at full speed and on a close-hauled course?



So much to think about.

So much to analyze.



Sometimes when you focus on the details of a piece of boat-handling you can lose yourself in the minutiae so much that you can't see the big picture.

Or as we say in English English you don't see the wood for the trees.

Sometimes it may be better to try and get a mental image of the whole maneuver and just absorb it and then let it flow.

So here is coach Jon Emmet showing us how to start - approx 0:25 to 1:15 in this video.

What do you think of Jon's starts, all you expert Laser sailors out there?

Would you do anything differently?



How do you learn best?

Are you a wood person or a trees person?

Training Goals

Several of my friends are going to race in the Laser Masters Worlds this summer.

Two of them are taking it all very seriously and have been emailing me and each other about what their plans and goals should be for the next time we go sailing together - which apparently is now referred to as a "training session." Phrases like "work on boat speed" and "drills that Olympic sailors do" are being thrown around. They are starting to scare me.

Clearly they have not read (or have forgotten reading) the definitive advice about the Laser Masters Worlds and how to prepare for the event which was published back in 2010.

Be that as it may, I thought I would humor them and let them know my own "specific" goals (apparently goals always have to be specific) for the next time we have a "training session" (oh, how I hate that phrase) together.

1. Arrive at the "training" site without having left something vitally important (like my towel or my cup-holder) at home.

2. Rig the boat without making any major mistakes like forgetting to put in the sail battens or putting the tiller over the traveler.

3. Spot and correct, before launching, all the inevitable minor rigging mistakes like rigging the in-haul shock cord around the mainsheet, putting the sheet the wrong way through the ratchet block, or leaving the drain plug out.

4. Launch the boat without hitting any rocks, the dock, or other boats.

5. Have fun.

6. Sing all 27 verses of Wheels on the Bus while sailing.

7. Shout "Gaaaaargh!" at my "training partners" at least 19 times.

8. Spend the time of the "training session" broad reaching 58.7% of the time, sailing downwind 37.2% of the time, and beating 4.1% of the time. Is that specific enough?

9. Not have any disagreement with my "training partners" about where to go for a drink after sailing.

10. Not find out that Aidan's Pub has run out of Old Thumper when I order it.

11. Not find out that I have any body parts missing when I wake up the next day.

Experiment

Definition: An experiment is an orderly procedure carried out with the goal of verifying, refuting, or establishing the validity of a hypothesis.

Hmmm. What do experiments have to do with sailing?



I had a bit of a revelation about how important experimentation is to sailing during one long afternoon racing with the Duxbury Laser Fleet last year. I was not having a good day. I figured I was of a similar standard to the top 5 or 6 sailors in the fleet but somehow I never seemed to be at the front of the fleet that day. I was getting a bit frustrated to be perfectly honest. I thought I was sailing the boat well. I thought I had a good strategy and was getting good starts. But somehow it never paid off in my results.

After the racing was over and we were back on shore, I asked one of my friends, who had had some excellent races, what her strategy for the day had been. Her answer was something like, "Well, at first I thought the left looked good so I went that way in the first race but that didn't work out. So the next race I went right and that was worse. So after that I just played the shifts up the middle in every race and that seemed best, so I stuck with it."

Ahah! That explained a lot. In every race, I had checked the wind before the course and thought I could see more pressure on the left so I always went that way. And it never worked out. But I was stubborn and kept persisting in my failing strategy. In retrospect I think there was more pressure out to the left but often it was beyond the layline of our (short) courses and so it did me no good. What's the definition of insanity again?

Another of my friends had capsized while going downwind in one race. I asked him what had happened. "Oh, I rounded the windward mark in third place but I wasn't prepared to settle for that, so I tried sailing by an extreme angle by the lee and heeling to windward more than usual." It didn't work out for him but he was experimenting, trying something a bit different, getting out of his comfort zone, testing a hypothesis you might say… and in the process learning something.

It's OK to use some races as learning experiences. Eric Twiname said so in his classic book about self-coaching, Sail, Race and Win. In fact he recommended that you use some races to experiment with your technique, recognizing that this means your race results will probably get worse before they get better.

Now that I remember it, on that long afternoon last summer in Duxbury, I did notice that I was doing mediocre tacks. But I didn't do anything about it. I was trying too hard to do well in the races. In retrospect I should have said, "I am just going to use the next beat to work out why my tacks are all wrong and try some different things until I get it right. Bucket."



The reference to a bucket won't make any sense to you unless you listened to President Obama's speech at the White House Correspondent's Dinner last Saturday night.





So that's another resolution for racing this year.

Experiment more.

Bucket.

Sunday Speedlink - Take the Tiller

I'm always pleased when I come across a new blog that offers writing of real depth and quality to aficionados of the sailing blogosphere. A recent find, and one of of my favorite sailing blogs right now, is Take the Tiller which is written by Deborah Bennett Elfers.

Deborah has been writing on a variety of sailing topics but one of her major themes is about how to improve as a sailor - which as my regular readers know is something I have been striving (and mostly failing) to do for 35 years now.

I particularly enjoyed her recent post  What Makes A Great Sailor — Practice, or Talent? which explores the roles of mindset, motivation and practice and includes a couple of recommendations of books that support Deborah's approach to growth as a sailor. Much inspiration and food for thought! I'm currently reading one of her book recommendations on my Kindle. I suspect I will end up writing two or three blog posts on the same theme myself as I mull over and try to apply the lessons of the post and the book.

Deborah sails a Herreshoff Twelve out of Marion, Massachusetts and her family comes from Duxbury (also in Massachusetts) both of which are among my favorite places to sail around here, so I wouldn't be surprised if our paths cross some time in the future.

In the meantime, I will continue to draw inspiration from her blog. Check it out. Take the Tiller.



I looked on Google Images for a "tiller" to illustrate this post. This is all I could find. It's really of no use to me. Please take it.

Practice What You Don't Like

If you want to become a better sailor, you need to practice.

You know that.

But how do you practice? How do you even decide what to practice? 

I am pretty bad at practice. 

Typically what happens, especially in the spring, is that I take my Laser out for some "practice" - at least that's what I call it in my head. I sail around for 10 or 15 minutes to get warmed up and then I sail upwind for 20 minutes, say, and then back downwind to my starting point again. I'm really getting in the groove and enjoying the experience of being on the water in the spring sunshine, so I do another 20 minutes of upwind, and then back down again, maybe doing a bit of reaching and a few gybes if the winds are strong enough to make that interesting. I am thinking of how I am going to write up this sail on my blog and how much fun I am having and how lucky I am to still be able to do this at my age. Then I spot a buoy so I do a few practice leeward mark roundings and a couple of them really aren't too bad so I feel good about that. So then I go upwind again, maybe do a few extra tacks than I normally would and a couple of them really aren't too bad either so I feel good about that too. Then maybe I blast off on a reach to the other side of the bay or river just for fun, and then blast back again, and by now I'm feeling a bit hungry or thirsty so I go home and have a beer and it's time for dinner.

This of course is totally the wrong thing to do. Not the beer. The way I practice.

Deep down I have always known this, but I was reminded recently about why it's all wrong by another excellent post on Damian's Final Beat blog - Leeward Mark Roundings - Satisfaction Guaranteed. Damian admits to being very good at leeward mark roundings. He practices them more than anything else. He gets a lot of satisfaction from his excellent leeward mark roundings. That's one reason he practices them a lot.

Of course this is all backwards and wrong.

We shouldn't practice what we are good at and what we enjoy.

We should practice what we are bad at it so we can get better and eliminate the weak parts of our game.

And often we like least the things we are no good at, so a good guide is to practice things that we don't like.

Damian points out that this advice is in the quote below from Eric Twiname. I think it's in his classic book on self-coaching, Sail, Race and Win.

I have that book. I have read that book. I should know this. Deep down I do know this.

“…you tend to like and enjoy what you are best at, and as you give more thought and practice to these things you are most likely to improve them. By working instead at what you like least and are worst at, you get a … balanced approach (to your training)”

So that's resolution #1 for my training sessions this year. Practice the things I am worst at. Practice the things I don't like.

What would they be?

Windward mark roundings would make my list, for sure. For some reason I always lose places at windward marks. Or I end up on the wrong side of a bunch of boats when I know the other side is where I want to be strategically. Or I tack low of the layline and hit the mark. Or I overshoot the layline and lose a lot of distance. Or I overshoot the layline and let port-tackers tack underneath me. Or I have my sheet in a tangle and end up being unable to bear way until I have untangled the mess. There are so many ways I mess up in the approach to and the rounding of the windward mark, that this is one of the things I should really practice.

And leeward mark roundings where you have to do a gybe or two gybes just before the mark.

And capsize recoveries. I am really really slow at capsize recoveries.

And holding position before the start.

And accelerating fast at the start.

I could go on.

And on.



I was dreaming last night about being at a big Laser regatta.

And I had forgotten to bring my sail.

And my credit card.



I think I'll take a nap now.

First Day of Fall Sailing

It was a wonderful summer.

Three of my good sailing friends are going to the Laser Masters Worlds in October and they have been happy to come out and sail with me at various locations around Rhode Island during the summer as part of their preparation for the Worlds. As a result I have done much more training with a partner or a small group and less solo sailing than I usually do. It's been fun.



But this week was different. You would think my friends would all be training hard before flying off to France.

But no.

One of my friends has already left for France traveling via Turkey and Georgia.

 A friend in Georgia

And another friend, who originally said he wanted to sail a lot this week, has had his travel arrangements disrupted by the Air France pilots' strike and is preparing to travel earlier, so now he can't sail.

A French pilot

And my third friend has a shoulder injury and is resting it before going to Hyères.

A shoulder

So I'm back to sailing on my own again this week.



Tuesday was a superb, warm early fall day. The winds were forecast to be light so I did a bit of reading about light air technique and then headed over to Bristol planning to practice roll tacks and roll gybes and light air starts and stuff.

When I got there it was honking. So I practiced trying to keep the long pointy thing aiming at the sky and worked on making impressive whoop whoop sounds as I rode the waves on screaming reaches across the harbor.

It was one of the best days for sailing this year with some nice chunky waves and lots of refreshing spray. I came home and had a couple of glasses of Smuttynose IPA and slept like a baby.



Tuesday's sail, the 43rd of the year, was sponsored by ACCOMABP, the Allegheny County Chapter of Moms Against Body Painting.