2011 NAC Prep

Day 4, Saturday, July 9, Flying Scot North American Championships: Measurement

Cedar Point YC is just buzzing with activity. Flying Scots arriving, getting unhitched from their cars, and then whisked away by the excellent big team of volunteers in lime green shirts as the drivers and co-pilots tumble out of the cars, full of stories about the drive. (Overheard: There is NOTHING like taking a trailer on the cross-Bronx Expressway first thing in the morning!) Today, our road-trip turned into a regatta.

Here's how it goes –– Since the Flying Scot is a one-design class, the boats come from the factory resembling one another pretty closely. Then, as this skipper decides to replace that part, or relocated that cleat, or run those lines a different way, or make that bit smoother or flatter or whatever, the boats diverge. And at official regattas like this one, the class has to make sure that the boats all measure back into the class standard. Has a boat gotten too light? Has the centerboard changed shape? Are the sails the right size?

There are a couple of measurement stations set up at Cedar Point, including one for the sails and one for the hull, and then a team of folks going boat to boat. Reminiscent of the Lightning Worlds in Ecuador, when the yacht club employees wore yellow shirts marked "marinera," the lime green tees for the regatta staff are hugely distinctive. They are helping step masts, checking measurements, offering cold drinks, and generally making folks feel welcome.

So far, aside from the usual small kerfluffle about the fatness of the centerboard (there's always some controversy about how the measurement team decides to measure it: calipers? jig? measuring tape?), which will result in somebody having to take a grinder to a board to slim it down. Same as ever, it looks like quite a few centerboards need to go the Red Door Slim-down Spa. There are lots and lots of helping hands, which makes the whole process speed along.

The weather is great: sunny, breezy, and warm, and it's good to see so many familiar faces. Cameron is growing curly hair on her cute little bean.

File under "Crew, Motley"

Here's the short story on Kelly Gough's adventures: yesterday, within 45 minutes of the club, Kelly was gliding up I-95 on the absolute home stretch of his 1800-mile solo odyssey from Texas. In the left lane when Bang! the axel on the trailer breaks. He brings the rig to a halt in the scant left emergency lane-ette, assesses the situation, and then manages to unload the boat so that he can jack up the trailer and get the axel off the ground and have the whole thing cranked onto a tow truck that is supposed to be arriving sometime soon. 18-wheelers blowing by at top speed. Road dirt everywhere. Kelly's life flashing before his eyes. He's under the boat when a particularly powerful gust of air from a passing truck lifts the boat and trailer and sets it back down 6 inches to the side. Kelly admitted to screaming like a girl, scrambling out from under it, and then having to nerve himself back up to finish the job. Yes, he thought about leaving it on the side of the road. Yes, he said he never wants to drive on 95 again. Yes, the tow truck hauled it all back to Jersey, where a crack team of welders put it all back together in an hour and a half better than before, for a couple of Benjamins. You gotta hand that to Jersey -- they got hustle! Kelly's potential adventures are still going: while hoisting the boat on the lift, some quick-thinking observer noticed that his lifting bridle (the wire or rope thingie used to raise the boat from its trailer) was unravelling. Mercifully, they got the boat back down before gravity applied herself. (Overheard: Holy Crap, THAT would have sucked.) Knock wood that Kelly has taken all the close calls for everyone already this week.


Sunday July 10, 2011 Day 5

Flying Scot North American Championships:

Conditions on Long Island Sound are nearly identical today to the warm, humid weather we left in Tampa: wind at around 7 knots, plenty of big chop from powerboats, and a strong tidal pull under the bright sunshine.

The Women’s and Junior’s North American Championships are going on as I type. Meant to sail the Women’s with Monica Trejo, but it turns out that the skipper must be a boat-owner. I am categorically not prepared to drive, though –– bless her good heart –– Monica was willing to crew for me.

Instead, Mr. Linton decided to splash the boat, try out the new Gus sails from Bill Draheim, and check out conditions around the racecourse. We were sad not to see Hans Noordenhaus, though several folks sported orange in honor of our Netherlander friend. Amy Miller’s toenails, for instance, are safety orange, though regrettably, I didn’t catch it on film.

We sailed out the harbor and directly into the reef area at the top end of the Womens-Juniors racecourse. Nice race committee (Thanks Nelson!) chased us down to tell us we were okay for now –– but when the tide dropped, the rocks under our boat would be about out of the water. We rolled right into a tack and got the heck out of there. That’s some critical local knowledge.

The new jib looks nice and crisp, so we rolled it back up to save it for later in the week. The new spinnaker looks equally fresh and lovely. We felt a little off the pace: plenty of point but not much punch, as the phrase goes. Our head-stay was fairly tight, so the skipper decided to loosen the rig. Since the process involves removing a pin to disconnect one of the shrouds, and then replacing that pin while the mast wavers around (not quite as hazardous as changing a tire on the fly, but sort of similar), I was relieved when he opted to make the change on shore.

We sailed with John Aras and John Wake from Fishing Bay and with John Kredler from North Carolina (we hit a patch of Johns, evidently) for about an hour or so and came back around 3 pm. From what we can see, the tide is going to play, and there will be a lot of competitive boats on the field.

Given how bumpy the water is (though one might hope it’s Sunday traffic as much as anything), I’m glad to have laid in a supply of ginger brew. For years, I have felt yurpy as we start sailing. I blamed it on the migraines, the pbj, the weather, or my own bad attitude. But during the sail back from Honduras with Jeff’s papa (what an adventure THAT was), I realized what I was feeling was eerily like sea-sickness. Totally like sea-sickness. Really, just like sea-sickness. Oh. Wow. Duh.

The answer: powdered ginger brew from the Asian market mixed with Gatorade. Sip, sip, sip, and no more yurping.

I am a terrible reporter of the racing news, sad to say. I don’t know how many races they got off, or how it shook out; I can only report that Melanie Dunham took the top spot among the Women's NAs. I think the Flying Scot website should have results for Womens and Youths posted shortly.

Opening ceremonies were yummy: lots of homemade appetizers, vast stores of beer, soda, water, and the best use of a Thistle yet: six blenders, a bubble maker, a disco ball, a head into which one pours ice, a stereo, all built into an old Thistle on a trailer. It even has a license plate. I hope to capture the glory by camera later in the week.

Qualifying races start tomorrow. There are four divisions (a, b, c, d). Each will face off to determine which boats will sail in the Championship fleet or the Challenger fleet on Wednesday. The class also reserves the right to boot a normally high-performing boat into the division they think it deserves, which is kind of an interesting twist on the idea of a qualifying series.