WINTER WINDUP 2010

Last weekend was the final race for the winter series. I was fortunate enough to be racing in the Royal NZ Yacht Squadron on Saturday and in the Weiti Yacht Club race on Sunday. I was one very happy sailor after 2 consecutive days of racing! The weather saw the season out in true Auckland style with a lovely 30-35knot Southwester for the Squadron race. There was a very impressive fleet out for the final soiree. Alot of the big boats were out - V5, Systems Thunder, 888 and of course all the usual multihull suspects; Tigre, Dirty Deeds, Taeping etc.

The multihulls and big boat divisions were away first, leaving the rest of us sneaking glances at the beautiful sight of multihulls roaring down the harhour in 35knots of breeze while we jostled precariously with the other vessels still in the starting sequence.

As our division took off we had a rather entertaining view of the big boats up ahead losing control of their spinnakers. In that kind of breeze its easy to get overpowered, espcially with such a large sail up, and trying to reach with it no less... I don't think a single yacht managed to successfully fly their kite and we were most amused at the escapades happening ahead of us. There were yachts broaching and rounding up all over the place!! (Broaching is when the boat gets pulled on it side due to being over powered. Rounding up is when the boat is overpowered and pulls up into the wind).

Needless to say we decided against a spinnaker ourselves and charged up the harbour with the number 3 headsail instead. (A small headsail for windier conditions - reducing the risk of losing control of the vessel). For the beat back down the harbour, with the wind hard on the nose we reefed our main down too, to reduce sail area even more. I have never raced with so little sail before. The number 3 and a reef in...and still getting over powered in the gusts. It was a very exciting and very hair-raising ride!! Not bad for a Farr 1020. They're a great boat.

Sunday was equally as exciting and almost as windy. I was racing out of Whangaparoa on a Birdsall 37, Charlatan, that I'm doing the 3 day White Island race on in November. There were only a handful of boats racing in this one as its a very small yacht club. With an olympic course set up outside Gulf Harbour and a crew of six we were good to go. For the first time ever I was put on foredeck and mast work. This meant I was hoisting and dropping sails and dealing with all the dramas happening on the foredeck, all whilst the boat is heaving all over the place and leaning precariously. I loved it! One yacht, (not ours thankfully) even lost its whole rig. The entire mast had snapped off. That would take a phenomenal amount of pressure to do.

I have 3 big races coming up. The Spring Regatta later this month, the Coastal Classic next month then the BIG one...3 days, 320 nautical miles...the Round White Island Ocean Race. Its looking to be another great season of sailing =) Bring it!!

DIRTY DEEDS: 8.5m racing catamaran that was racing on saturday.

TIGRE: 8.5m racing catamaran that was racing on Saturday and I have crewed on before.

DEMONSTRATOR: A T30 racing yacht that was competing on Saturday and I have crewed on before.

For The Love Of The Wave

I have, over the past year, discovered a new passion. Something that has me completely undone. Something that has me climbing the walls because it has gotten me so stoked I can't live without it. This sailor girl has moved onto a slightly smaller vessel than a yacht...a surfboard. It all started one cold grey day in July 2009 when my mate Chelle and I were in Raglan. Despite our better judgement and slightly hungover, we decided to go surfing. I had bronchitis and really shouldn't have been anywhere near the water but we thought, to hell with it, lets do it. Chelle was already a surfer and took me out to teach me on her 7"4 mal. We walked down the massive hill at Wainui Beach and after briefly going over the basics of surfing and safety we got in. The water was so cold it burned. Our lungs felt like they were on fire and our skin went bright red, with slight tinges of purple. After about 20 minutes of thrashing around in wild west coast surf and no longer able to feel our hands and feet, we decided it was probably time to see sense and get out. We trudged back up the massive hill, nauseated from the cold, quite possibly mildly hypothermic and still very much hungover. But I was hooked. I loved it. And it was a love affair that would only increase as I kept surfing.

After many surfs I still remember that first surf in Raglan, the first time a wave properly picked me up at Piha, the perfect crisp autumns day surfing back in Raglan where I somehow (god only knows how) managed to catch a wave sitting, yes sitting, on the board, and the many many times we have sat in silence just watching, gazing at the wild, wind blown waves of New Zealands west coast.

But most of all, I remember the surf in Omaha. Chelle had just got a new board, a 6"9 fish and we had driven to Piha to christen it, but Piha was an absolute shit fight. Lumpy custard. So we got in the car and drove to Omaha in an attempt to see if the east coast was a bit cleaner and more surfable. It was little, 2-3ft and breaking close. But we figured, why not - lets just get in and have some fun. We paddled out, caught a couple of small white wash waves and ended up just sitting on our boards at the back of the break under a perfect blue sky looking out at Great Barrier. We swapped boards and I had a go on the fish. We now had a small crowd of people watching us. Every now and then a bigger set would come through, breaking further out and I started getting amongst it. On my first east coast surf, my first time on a short board, I caught my first breaking wave. I will never forget the feeling of dropping down the face of that 3-4ft glassy wave at late afternoon in Omaha, thinking for a split second I was gonna die then realising I was still going - still on the board and flying. I was flying! The was white foam boiling around me, carrying me towards the shore. I was so stoked I was beside myself. I was yelling at Chelle as I paddled furiously back out - "Oh my god did you see that Chelle?! Did you see that?! Oh my god that was amazing! Did you see that?!" Chelle just laughed when I finally paddled back out to her and said "Yeh mate, you're surfing in the impact zone now". Wow.

I kept going, catching wave after wave as the sun began to set. In between each ride we'd sit on our boards at the back of the break buzzing out over the amazing view - golden sunset hues reflecting off a glassy mirror like sea with Great Barrier on the horizon. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. After 2 hours in the water in the middle of winter, we finally conceded defeat from the cold and got out. Nothing could wipe the smile off my face. I was surf stoked.




This image is googled.

At It Again...

Well after 3 months of being landbound and surviving on surfing alone, this Sailor Girl has finally gotten a skid in. Sunday 15th of August I raced on a Birdsall 37 up in Whangaparoa, a mere 2 days after having food poisoning. After a pleasant hours drive at a sparrows fart on a Sunday morning, and getting increasingly antsy along the way, I arrived at the Weiti Yacht Club in Whangaparoa. The boat is one that I am hoping (fingers, toes, eyes and ears crossed) I can do the White Island race on later this year and the skipper wanted me to come out for a race to check out the boat etc. It started off as an overcast morning with a light breeze as we motored down the river. The course we were racing was an olympic course set up in front of Gulf Harbour. An olympic course is like a big triangle, with a windward leg, leeward leg and a reaching leg. Which means you sail with the wind on the nose, the wind behind you and the wind on the side so that you get a bit of everything. There weren't very many boats out - probably due to the painfully early start of the race, and on a Sunday morning no less. The 4 main crew took care of the helm, mainsheet and grinding for the starting sequence and I happily sat on the rails scooting under the boom as we tacked and gybed precariously closely to other yachts all jostling for the best spot on the start. Being the only crew member not in the cockpit also meant I got to scoot around the foredeck skirting sails, releasing snagged headsails sheets, tightening the leech on the headsail and tightening the cunningham at the mast - all while the boat is leaning so far over that the railing is in the water, which makes none of that an easy task. Especially when where you are standing ends up underwater as you struggle with the leech cord inches from the railing whilst trying not to fall in the drink. What a rush!! We started the race with our number 1 headsail, which is the big one for lighter winds - but after tearing it as the wind increased we ended up finishing with the number 2. A smaller headsail more suitable for the 30 knot gusts we were getting. In our downwind legs we also cranked out the genniker and even got so daring as to fly the big spinnaker. The skipper wasn't playing it safe that day! I even got to do some bow work and help with the kite drops (pulling the big genniker and spinnaker down into the forward hatch), and even had to stand right on the bow where the anchor sits and lean right out over the railing to pull the spinnaker out from under the boat - all whilst the boat is ploughing through swell and heaving all over the place. For the second half of the race I got to winch and trim the headsail, which made me a very happy sailor. I've missed my winch =)
Apart from tearing the headsail it was a great race which I thoroughly enjoyed and very much needed. Despite the cluster of bruises, pulled muscles and aching limbs - it was SO worth it!! Can we go again? Please?

The Withdrawals...

The salt has washed out of my hair, my bruises have finally faded and my broken nails are growing back. I feel like a caged animal...like a bird who's wings have been clipped. It's been 3 weeks since I have been sailing and I am not coping well with being land bound. I feel anxious and fidgety. And when I am like this I am liable to do something completely ridiculous like try jury-rig a dinghy or something. Or 'borrow' a boat. Or try paddle to Rangitoto on a surfboard.

Don't ever go sailing. It will wreck you. Those 126.5 hours I logged over summer have wrecked me. Those years cruising the Gulf with my family have wrecked me. They have destroyed any hope of a 'normal' life. I have seen paradise. I have seen perfection. I have experienced 'the stoke' and now I crave it...need it. It's not that I distaste life on land, but life at sea is better. The gentle rocking of the boat at anchor in a beautiful bay somewhere, the hull crackling in the silence, the stars twinkling above. Or the boat crashing over huge swells, the rigging groaning from the strain, spray flying over the bow; at the mercy of wild and untamed seas.

A sailor without a boat just isn't right. It's defies the natural order of things. What am I to do??

2009/2010 SUMMER RECAP

18 races. 4 cruises. 126.5 hours logged. 8 different boats. 2 overnight races. And one amazing summer of sailing. The increase in my skills, experience and passion is exponential. I saw collisions, broaches, sunsets, rainbows, dolphins, orcas and the unparalleled beauty of the Hauraki Gulf. I sailed in sunshine, I sailed in rain, I sailed in no wind and I sailed in strong winds. I learnt more in this one summer of sailing than I did in my entire childhood spent on boats. And as my skills and experience grew, so did my dreams.

SUNSET AT KAWAU (Poem)

Rocking gently
In days last light
The stars emerge faintly
For the impending night
Rippled clouds
Doused in fiery hues
On the water reflected
A poets muse
A golden moon suspended
In a darkening sky
Ascending languidly
Rising high
The hull crackles
Water lapping the sides
In the ebbing and flowing
Of constant tides
Sleep encroaches
As night wears on
The sea singing to me
Its sweet sweet song

WINTER SERIES 2010 - RACE 1

New series. New boat. New crew. Saturday 1st May: I raced on an Elliott 1050 called Second Nature. She's a beaut of a boat, with a modified rig and set up for racing. The weather was all over the place - averaging about 20 knots but had some gusts up in the 30's. It was a Squadron Race, division B. A spinnaker division. I've done a grand total of 3 spinnaker races in my life, so I'm very much a rookie. Skipper put me on keyboards. Keyboards are the clutches on the cabin top that lock the ropes in so they don't run, or release them when you want them to run. My job was to stand in the cockpit and pull up sails, drop sails, and adjust the sails using the outhaul, vang and cunningham - all done via the keyboards and cabin top winches. And when I wasn't doing that, I was sitting 'on the rail', basically sitting on the very side of the boat with my legs hanging over while the boat leans precariously and roars towards the next mark. Exciting stuff. Especially when we tack. Tacking is when the boat changes direction and all the sails go from one side of the boat to the other. When we are sitting on the rail we sit on the opposite side to what the sails are on (we are on the high side of the lean), so when the sails change we have to scramble under to boom and over to the new high side (or windward side). We got hit with a patch of torrential rain and strong winds, which resulted in a very cold wet crew, a slippery deck, one crash tack and a near collision. No worries. The resulting perfect rainbow was worth every hair raising second of it. And watching Dirty Deeds, a racing catamaran, nearly go ass over turkey was entertaining to say the least. However, we emerged unscathed, with the exception of my knees which are now a delicate shade of purple due to my escapades crawling under the boom. Despite a couple of boats broaching (getting pulled on its side by the spinnaker), and one boat sticking its prod in the backside of another one, ripping a hole in it, it was a pretty good race with only minor mishaps. I have however, come to the conclusion that the winter racing is going to push my body, my skills and my faith in my skipper to the absolute limits. This is not like summer racing. You get cold, wet, tired, sore, bruised, battered and guess what ... I absolutely love it! Its a crazy crazy sport that we love, and we must be stark raving mad. The sea doesn't discriminate, it doesn't care if you are rich, poor, young, old, good or bad ...it can be gentle and beautiful or angry and merciless. And a sailor must respect it. And this sailor is looking forward to a lot more adventures over the winter!!

Pic 1: An example of a yacht broaching due to losing control of the spinnaker (the big colorful sail). Note: this image was googled and is not from my race.

Pic 2: An example of 'sitting on the rail'. The crew sit on the rail to keep the weight up when the boat is leaning. When we tack the sails and crew swap sides. Note: this image was googled and is not from my race.