This having your own boat thing appears to be paying off. That, or the handicapping system is being really kind to me. Today we did a handicap start - depending on how good or how... inexperienced a sailor one is, one gets to start a number of minutes ahead of the 'scratch' boats - those with sailors that are good enough not to need a head start.
I had a 15 minute headstart. I'm not sure whether to be pleased (that I don't need the biggest headstart in the fleet), or miffed (cos I can use all the advantage available to me). I suppose the mark of an accurate handicap is if (for example) I finished close to the scratch boats... I was 3 minutes behind the leader, so plus my 15 is a normal 18 minute split. Pretty good.
Of course, I didn't help myself at all. Nearly capsized once, stuffed up a gybe, stalled twice (didn't think sailboats had clutches...), and stuffed three rounding three marks. Add all those mistakes up, and my handicap would have been spot on, if not a little generous.
Yippee, this is a fun sport.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Sunday, March 04, 2007
And thar she blew... sort of
Light winds are, I am told, the most challenging to sail in. I think I would qualify that to claim that racing in light winds is difficult. Sailing with little or no wind is easy. You just sit there, try to keep in the shade of the sail a bit, and enjoy a bit of a drift with the current or the tide. When there is a bit of wind, scoot along and when it dies down again, sit back in the shade again.
Racing in light wind is another matter altogether. There are puffs of wind, apparently randomly distributed over the area of the race course. Each one of these puffs seems to be coming from a different area, and some indeed must be generated by the sporadic efforts of an oscillating fan.
So the experienced, the good, the skilled sailors complain about the lack of wind, how it is shocking (as though someone just could not be counted on to bring the wind, when they promised to do so), and then they proceed to just blitz around the course whilst we neophyte sailors look on in wonder.
It's all about not making mistakes... and reading the wind... and being able to react when there is wind... and reacting the right way... and doing that consistently all round the course. Suffice to say, yesterday was not my best showing ever. (By the way, go Renee! First on handicap, well done!). Yep, last (not counting the new sailor who joined in for fun, and nearly beat me too).
At least I know where I went wrong. First, getting mixed up with the Herons while rounding a mark really killed a lot of time. Then stuffing up the approach to a mark, after I'd caught up a bunch of guys, sort of deflated any hope for a better finish.
Next time. Next time.
Racing in light wind is another matter altogether. There are puffs of wind, apparently randomly distributed over the area of the race course. Each one of these puffs seems to be coming from a different area, and some indeed must be generated by the sporadic efforts of an oscillating fan.
So the experienced, the good, the skilled sailors complain about the lack of wind, how it is shocking (as though someone just could not be counted on to bring the wind, when they promised to do so), and then they proceed to just blitz around the course whilst we neophyte sailors look on in wonder.
It's all about not making mistakes... and reading the wind... and being able to react when there is wind... and reacting the right way... and doing that consistently all round the course. Suffice to say, yesterday was not my best showing ever. (By the way, go Renee! First on handicap, well done!). Yep, last (not counting the new sailor who joined in for fun, and nearly beat me too).
At least I know where I went wrong. First, getting mixed up with the Herons while rounding a mark really killed a lot of time. Then stuffing up the approach to a mark, after I'd caught up a bunch of guys, sort of deflated any hope for a better finish.
Next time. Next time.
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