By Tim Lynch
"Come and sail on a big boat where you don't get wet."
With those 12 words, Randy Blair had me convinced to crew with him during the San Juan 21 Fleet 2 Fall Regatta in Bayview, ID. The race was held the weekend of September 30 through October 1 at Farragut State Park on the southern tip of Lake Pend Oreille in north Idaho.
Up until this time my experience with sailboats was limited to a Sunfish in Florida when I was six years old, a year sailing a vintage (read "old") AMF Snark Wildflower dinghy and a recently completed wooden "Wing Dinghy" built from the remains of the Wildflower. Randy's invitation came after seeing me spend the summer swimming along side this over-powered concoction of parts (my fault, not the designers).
As we sat in the Blair’s camper Friday night, munching on cheese, sausage, and crackers, I off-handedly commented about the sound of the wind. “Wow, the wind sounds really strong when it blows through the trees.”
Saturday morning started beautifully. Clear skies, light breeze, and surprisingly warm for the last day of September. We got down to the ramp early and got the boat set as the rest of the sailors arrived. Racing was to start at noon. Fifteen boats put in for the first start.
Almost on cue, the wind began to build when the first hull hit the water. Steady 10 to 15 mph out of the west, but the water was smooth since the majority of the lake was east of our location. Jim Lekander was the first out on the course. He was back in 30 minutes, looking quite worn out. The wind at the dock was only a taste of what was out in the bay.
So off we went to start the first race. The wind was now up around 20 to 25 mph. Gusts were frequent. With no winches on Randy’s boat, if you didn't sheet in the jib before it filled, you weren't going to sheet it in! Every bone in my body screamed “Hike” but I was informed by Randy that hiking was prohibited by the class rules. I felt like we were in a constant state of “about to go over.” My little boat would never have stayed heeled like this without going over sooner or later!
Then it started to rain. We had planned ahead and had rain gear. So far we were dry. We were doing OK getting to the weather mark and there were a few boats behind us. We rounded the mark nicely and decided to set the whisker pole since we didn't have a jibe angle to the next mark. After a bit of fumbling (I'd never set a whisker pole before) I had it place and the boat accelerated to the mark. This was cool!. The wind was really blowing now. It had to be pushing 25 to 30 mph with even higher gusts.
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Then it happened—with no warning. We were so intent on getting to the next mark that we weren't watching for the gusts that were now coming from behind. I never heard a thing. Suddenly (and I mean really quick) the boat lifted, turned 90 degrees and rolled up on its port side. Randy was doing every thing he could just to stay in the boat. I had been standing in the open cabin hatchway and was now hanging by my waist looking down at lot of water!
The jib, with the pole still attached, was wrapped around the fore stay. I remembered Randy telling me to never unsheet the jib, so I was desperately trying to free the pole to sheet it in. Then I heard Randy yelling incoherently. Over the roar of the wind I did pick up the phase “Let everything go!” About this time (a few seconds that seemed like minutes) the boat came around into the wind. The cockpit, with Randy laying submerged on the floor, was so full of water that it came rushing into the cabin. My boat wouldn'tt even hold that much water filled to the rim! Now we were wet! And cold!
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We quickly gathered ourselves up and got the boat back on track. We finished the race (and not in last place either!) and began preparing for the next one. Two tacks into the first leg we decided to join several other boats at the dock. The wind has increased to “survival mode.” By the end of the second race, Randy and I were not the only ones who had taken on water. Three other boats experienced knock downs. One Canadian boat got knocked down twice, losing one of their crew overboard each time.
Sure, Randy, sailing dry for a change sounds like fun. Let me know when you plan on doing it.
About the author: Tim Lynch lives in Lewiston, ID, and sails on the confluence of the Snake and Clearwater Rivers with his wife and 14-year-old daughter. Tim started with a Snark Wildflower that he got in a trade for a mountain bike in 1996. Although he had only sailed it about twice a year, once he met members of the Lewis-Clark Sailing Association in 1999, they had him racing within a month. Bit hard by the sailing bug, he built a 12-foot wood and epoxy dinghy with the help of Randy Blair. In July 2001 he purchased a San Juan 21. With daughter Ashley as crew, he now competes regularly in LCSA Cub Races and travels around the northwest racing with Fleet 52 of the SJ21 Association. Tim is a licensed architect and is the 2004 Commodore of the Lewis-Clark Sailing Association.
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