Nancy in the Doublehanded Farallones Race

April 12, 2011

Pat Broderick and Gordie Nash sailed Pat's Wyliecat 30 Nancy in BAMA's challenging Doublehanded Farallones Race last Saturday. Here is Pat's report of their race:

I think it would be fair to say that Gordie and I had a great time. I also think it would be fair to say we had a tough time.

Prior to the start we decided to hang around the startline since it was apparent those boats back in the normal staging area weren't going to get started against the unusual flood and light SW wind. So we motorsailed around in front of the St. Francis YC looking for some ebb. We found it right along the seawall - in about 15 feet or less of water - 20 feet off the rock wall. The ebb band was only about 25 feet wide, but it was there. Where in the heck did that massive flood come from on a day when max ebb was an hour after our start? With all the runoff from the recent storms we figured it would be slam bam and out the Gate!

So, since the Sailing Instructions allowed it, we 'dip-started' and headed back for the seawall. We'd worked our way up to about the 'H' beam west of the StFYC when what little wind there was began to peter out, so we jumped off toward the middle. We managed to really start by getting swept out past 'X' and we were on our way! Like the other boats that got away, we worked our way out, crossing those current lines and sort of hopping from patch of wind to patch of wind. Our goal was to get over to the Yellow Bluff area where we thought we'd find both wind and ebb. But Yellow Bluff was not to be.

We began to feel stronger and stronger ebb as we got to the center, but that ebb began pushing us back toward the South Tower. As the wind increased a little, we were able to sail toward the middle of the bridge and passed under it almost exactly an hour after we started! On the outer side, the wind filled in and we continued sailing toward the Marin shoreline. We were making 9+ knots over the bottom, and about three through the water.

There were only about 10 or 12 boats that made it away from the starting area. At the bridge we looked back and saw the Bay filled with sagging chutes around the starting area, but we were at the Bridge!

The current increased steadily - as it was supposed to have been all morning - and we 'hit' the Marin side west of Pt. Diablo - a little bit west of our Yellow Bluff goal. We wanted to exit at Pt. Bonita, so made a few tacks to stay over on the north side and to stay in what we thought was the strongest ebb. We were making 11+ knots over the bottom and six or so through the water.

After Bonita, we stayed north and passed the first set of channel markers about half a mile north. It was messy and wet, and we found quite a few square waves. I managed to find more than Gordie when I was steering the boat. I'm sure on one of the them the whole boat must have been out of the water since we just dropped straight down and we felt the concussion over the full boat's length. Our speed over the bottom was good, even though the square backsides slowed us to almost a stop when we hit one.

We steered our way through the mess, edging further north as we went out and passed the Lightbucket about a mile to the north. The apparent wind picked up and we began to see 28+ gusts, with the wind being something like 25 consistently. There were more than few 30+ anemometer readings though. After passing the Lightbucket, things began to settle down a little, but the wind waves increased and we blew through wind wave after wind wave. During periods when the wind dropped to the low 20 knots, we thought we were going slow, but even then were making 7 +/- knots over the bottom.

As we approached the Island, we stayed north since we didn't want any 'island' issues, which turned out to be providential for us. Laying the Island on one tack is unusual, but that's what we did. At the Island we finally began to crack off a little at a time.

I was telling Gordie about my BAMA race with Nick Sands on his Saber 402 Escapade - about the roller furling line that parted on his boat just about the time we were halfway past the north side of the Island in similar conditions, when Gordie and I heard a loud "Bang!" on our boat and saw something fly off the bow. The sail dropped about 3 or 4 feet. Holy crap! Remember, we only have one sail.

At first we thought the halyard had broken and the wind pressure on the slides was keeping the sail up, but then we saw the main halyard stretching up at a sharp angle from the forward bullet block guide on the cabin top. The turning block at the base of the mast had blown up. A piece landed in the cockpit, but the large parts missed us on the way by. The boom was on the port side, the same side as the halyard and was holding the halyard more or less against the mast, but if we jibed the halyard would have been at a straight angle from that bullet block to the masthead, which was angled back 3 or so feet from plumb due to the tension on the rig. More Holy Crap! Hang in there little bullet block. You were never designed to be a turning block for the sail, especially for a Wyliecat-size sail in 28+ knots apparent!

I went below, grabbed some line and a sail tie, hooked onto the jackline, and then went forward to see what I could do. Gordie eased the halyard a little so I had some slack. I rigged a line around the halyard and the deck fitting, but could only drag the halyard part way back down to the mast step. Gordie continued to steer, and when we were around the backside of the Island, he came forward and we both pulled on the tackle system and managed to get the halyard down to more or less where it should have been if the real turning block had been there.

Then we went back to the cockpit and tried raising the sail back up. We managed to get it most of the way, but the halyard running through three loops of rope created lots of friction and we couldn't get the sail all the way back up. I think we lost 10-15 minutes in the process, but time flies when you're having fun bouncing around on the pointy end of a boat hanging on with one hand and tying/pulling with the other. Did I mention the constant green water wash as each swell hit the bow? The period was about 10 seconds per swell. Six hits per minute!

Once we got the boat moving again and jibed onto port and were reaching away from the Island I went forward to secure things, but it was clear we weren't going to improve on what we'd done. A snatch block would have been handy, but we didn't have one, so labored on with what we had. Putting the cunningham on full helped with sail shape, and we tensioned the topping lift to hold the boom up and give the leech a little better shape.

The ride in was exhilarating, even with the jury rig! Gordie's better at catching waves than I am, but seeing the knot meter hit 16+ as we surged along the swells, no matter which of us was steering, was exciting. Gordie managed to get the boat up and going more often than I did, but I had a few good rides. We decided to just sail up the middle, so aimed at the Lightbucket, then for the north side of the channel after we passed the pilot station.

It was, "Wait for the top of the swell, and then point the bow down." "Wait for the top of the swell . . . ." "No, wait, the next one looks like the 'big' one." The boat's remarkable; we didn't bury the bow once, even on the largest swells, even at 18 knots. Nothing's more pleasing than the roar as three tons of boat surges off the top of the swell and you're looking at a solid wall of green at the bottom. Luckily the knotmeter and GPS were in our line of steering sight. Tom Wylie designed one hell of a boat!

We surfed along a few hundred yards north of the channel markers, aiming for the North Tower. We even managed to catch a few swells inside Land's End. We passed under the Bridge about mid-span, sailed another quarter mile, then jibed.

The jibe was successful and the jury-rigged halyard managed it okay. We had our fingers crossed. We called in and aimed right at the Golden Gate YC pin. We were wet, weary, and wonderfully happy. The gun went off and we knew we were official.

We had heard Shaman call in ahead of us and knew it was possible for us to beat Steve on time, but weren't sure we had done that. We'd been watching Green Buffalo since around the Lightbucket and knew where they were. We knew we were ahead of the other boats in our division, but we also knew there were Moores ahead of us since at least one close to us had gotten his chute up and disappeared in a rooster tail of spray. And, indeed, five of them beat us. I think the only other monohull to beat us was the Schumacher quarter-tonner Summertime Dream that we'd been playing tag most of the day. Even if we hadn't had the halyard excitement at the Island most of the Moores would have beaten us. On the way out Gordie commented it looked like a "Moore Day" and it certainly was! Especially with their chutes up on the way back in.

Then we hit 30+ knot headwinds on the way back to Sausalito. Life just isn't fair! It was as wet sailing into Richardson Bay as it was out near the Island. All that's left of the halyard block is the base shackle. I'll replace it with the strongest metal block I can find! Don't want that to happen again for sure, especially in the middle of the ocean with 8-ft swells and 25+ knot winds!

Thanks to the BAMA Race Committee for putting on a great race. It is certainly one to be remembered.

- Pat Broderick & Gordie Nash

Click here for our race wrap-up report on the Doublehanded Farallones.