The last thing we needed was a wild and windy North Sea Race, for our first serious race in the boat and with a crew who although all very experienced had not had much opportunity to practise together. But wild and windy is what we got.
It started well, in sunshine, and a brisk breeze. We enjoyed watching Mean Machine (VO70 - ex Pirates of the Caribbean) shoot away over the horizon from the first start. Wow, what power!
Mean Machine also forced the race committee to forego the traditional windward start, as there was nowhere to windward of the start area with deep enough water to send her! Indeed, the poor crew had been forced to sail out from Ipswich at 0230 to have enough water in the river to be sure of getting to the 1030 start off Harwich!
So we started under spinnaker, on a lively reach, making fantastic progress. We had a good start, and the first part of the course, a series of short legs out to the South Galloper buoy and then back to the Suffolk coast at North Shipwash, went well for us. We were holding our time on our nearest competitors, and feeling pretty confident.
But with the wind building (SW 6-7 said the tea time Shipping Forecast) and the seas rising, too, a sense of caution kicked in. The course was essentially downwind, and included a number of gybes.
The skipper, having once smashed the gooseneck of our Sigma during a wild gybe, opted for wearing ship on each occasion. This considerably reduces the stresses and strains, but of course it costs time.
We probably had a more conservative sail plan than some of our competitors, too, and we opted for “downwind tacking,” rather than taking the more direct, but also inherently more dangerous dead downhill approach.
And after one abortive attempt at flying the asymmetric in 30 plus knots, we decided to leave it in the bag. We saw a really spectacular wipe-out, a big boat literally on its beam ends with its spreaders, as well as its spinnaker, in the water, which seemed to confirm that this was the right decision.
But on the long legs from North Shipwash to Smith's Knoll, and then from Smith's Knoll to MSP, a buoy just north of the Ijmuiden approach channel, we lost out to some of those opting for a bolder approach.
And our finishing place reflected this. (Go to the RORC website if you want to know exactly how bad it was!) But the fact of the matter was that we did finish, without damage to either boat or crew, and that was more than could be said for many. There were 14 retirements from the race.
There were six boats from our own club taking part, and three of those retired - one having had a crew member helicoptered off with head injuries having been hit by the boom during a Chinese gybe. (Fortunately he was not as seriously hurt as was at first feared, and was not kept in hospital). On another of our friends' boats a broken spinnaker pole and an associated hand injury forced retirement.
We could not afford to retire, as we needed to finish the race to qualify to take part in the Fastnet. We would have liked a better result, of course. But we're not downhearted. The boat and crew performed extremely well in difficult conditions and we all learned a tremendous amount.
Despite the tough conditions, nobody was sick, we all kept our sense of humour, and we ate extremely well. The carefully co-ordinated home-made catering included a giant lasagne - easy to fling in the oven and serve in bowls in even the roughest conditions, some hugely-morale boosting chicken and ham pies, bacon butties, the never-fail standby of boat catering, and lots of high energy treats like flapjack and chocolate brownies.
We enjoyed the race, too. I'll never forget Tim, our youngest crew member, a skilled helm who learned the trade in Fireballs, taking the wheel after Smith's Knoll, and giving a highly excited running commentary as he played the waves: “What a fantastic boat. What a fantastic night. I've never seen so many stars. Oh wow! A shooting star! Wow, what a wave! What a boat! What a night!” and so on.
Eventually one of those off watch below came up on deck to tell him to shut up as all the noise was stopping them sleeping!
Despite our conservative tactics, we finished the 185 mile race in 25 hours 15 minutes, an average speed of just less than 8 knots.
One thing the race did bring home to us is how very wearing sailing for long periods in those conditions can be. We have been forced to reconsider how many crew will be needed to race the boat for five days or so in the Fastnet, so that we do not feel compelled to be so conservative!
Anyway, we had a great afternoon in Scheveningen, a terrific meal out as a reward for our efforts, and then next morning we set off back across the North Sea, ironically motoring in a dead flat calm!
It did not seem as if it could be the same planet, never mind the same stretch of water as we had sailed the final fetch from MSP to the finish line, double reefed, with huge waves breaking over the side-deck line-up, less than 24 hours before.
It wasn't until we reached the Outer Gabbard that the promised north easterly filled in enough to stop the engine at last and hoist the spinnaker for the last lap of the journey. But that gentle run, gradually hardening on to an exciting reach, was in many ways the highlight of the trip.
We all felt we'd had a good weekend, race result notwithstanding, by the time we finally berthed at Levington soon after midnight.
Mean Machine, meanwhile, had smashed the course record for the RORC race - by more than eight hours! She took just 11 hours, 3 minutes and 50 seconds to complete the course - the first time that the winner of line honours started and finished on the same day!
For more information visit www.rorc.org
