St Francis YC Fall Regatta

Small Sailing World

Roger's wife Irene saw a Weta while only holiday in the US so she took a photo. She had no idea that there was a regatta on or that Bruce would write the following report!

A larger version of the photo, which Irene took from the Golden Gate Bridge.

Bruce's story...

The St Francis Yacht Club Fall Dinghy and Olympic Classes regatta in
mid-October was attended by over 75 boats this year, and a few rock stars of
the West Coast dinghy world were sighted there, but the wind didn't bother
to make an appearance. We got skunked.

Nine Wetas entered and rigged up. There were a dozen 505s, a few dozen
Lasers of various rig configurations. 470s, 29ers, Fins, did I miss any
classes? Most if not all of the 470s and 29ers were high school kids, and I
was happy to see that many were all-girl or co-ed crewed boats. Aside from
being aesthetically pleasant to watch sail (much more attractive than us
middle-aged men in neoprene) I like seeing the gals out there. Makes me
think there's a better chance that my 9 year old daughter will grow up to
enjoy sailing, and maybe even racing, because there are girls getting into
it now. Okay.back to the action.

The weather was stellar. Classic San Francisco in the fall, with sunny skies
and air temps in the mid 60s to mid 70s. But, did I mention, we didn't have
much wind?

I drove up the coast from San Diego on Thursday and dropped off my boat at
the marina before darkness fell. Returned midmorning on Friday and rigged my
boat. Dropped it into the water early in the afternoon and went for a
tune-up sail by myself. It was great sailing. Winds blowing in through the
Golden Gate from the west at 8 to 12 kts. Small ebb tide current pulling
out the gate against that breeze. Good for practicing, since I'm usually
sailing in less breeze in San Diego. Not many boats out. Saw #3 and #4 of
the AC42 winged cats that Oracle Racing is using. They were too far away
and too fast to catch up to. So, I sailed up to the GG Bridge and back to
the marina, then sailed 1/3rd of the way back before deciding it was time to
turn around and head in. I hear Davo sighted me out there as he headed
across the bridge, on his way home from work.

My Speedpuck was working that day, so I've uploaded this track file to Map
My Tracks: http://www.mapmytracks.com/explore/activity/311674#
<http://www.mapmytracks.com/explore/activity/311674>


Saturday was a challenging day. There were nearly 80 boats rigging and
launching in the tiny marina, but the fun began when four of us Weta
launched and went out to warm up before the expected start of 11:30 or soon
after, but the wind was taking longer to fill in. There were 100s of larger
boats scattered all over the bay, but nobody was moving.

I anticipated the wind would clock around to the west, so after sailing in a
southerly breeze on a starboard tack almost to Alcatraz Island, I turned
around and headed to The Golden Gate. Bad Idea. I should've noticed that
nobody else from the rigging area 2 miles upwind had launched. We were the
only ones stupid enough to go out. The danger wasn't in the lack of wind, it
was in the concealed dominance of the tidal current. I got to The Bridge
fast, 'cause the current was strong, and I got sucked out on a 2+ kt ebb!
With very little breeze on the water, it was difficult to see the current
flowing, and I didn't anticipate it would be flowing so strong before the
max ebb forecasted for an hour later.

Soon after I passed under the bridge, Marc Simmel also got sucked out, and
we sailed across the current to the south and found refuge in the lee of
Fort Point. There, we sailed back and forth for almost an hour. Together
and separately we repeatedly made a go at it, attempting to sail through the
slot between the Fort Point and the south tower of the bridge, assuming the
current would be weaker there. At least that shallow section was safer-there
was a lot of huge commercial traffic-barges and tankers-coming and going in
the main channel, and we had no power to get out of their way. Fighting the
outgoing tide was amazing. The boat was moving through the water, but the
water was moving over ground so much that we were standing still.

As the ebb hit the max at 1:35 or so, some kind of westerly picked up enough
for us to unroll our screachers and get the boats moving back into the bay.
It was probably 2:30 or later that Marc and I got back to the area just
offshore of StFYC, and to our surprise, the RC boats came out and began
setting buoys! We got one race off and then it was nearly 4:00 p.m..

Sunday, none of us launched. We all hung out on the grass and inspected each
others' boats and chatted about the merits of this or that. I was already
planning to just pack it up and go home, thinking that the forecast was for
worse conditions than Saturday, but after hanging for awhile with the guys,
I decided to wait and see. I'd driven so far and the boat was rigged. If we
got a couple more races in, it would've been worth it. Around Noon, the RC
moved out onto the water and set some buoys, but emphatically told us to
stay put on the shore. Well.the hour dragged on and then the RC finally
cancelled the racing at about 1:00. I had my boat packed and I was rolling
by 2:15. Traffic on Interstate 5 was light all the way, even through Lala
Land, and I got home just before 11 p.m.

So, we got one race for this regatta. My biggest complaint was there were
too many effing lasers crowding the starting area during our start. Pissed
me off. Contributed to my lousy start in that one race. You see, I
attempted to start on Port at the Pin, but had to duck the fleet of 8 other
Wetas and als avoid hitting at least one Laser who was being a moron and not
paying attention by keeping clear of the line during the start of our class.
After ducking him, I lost speed in a gybe and loss of wind in his lee,
headed toward the pin, and then hit the pin instead of going through the
line. Had to tack, gybe, complete going through the line, bear off, gybe,
and then restart. I've heard others yell at us Wetas for being in their
way, but you know it will backfire if I tell some of the other guys to F
off. So, I just yelled something like "Hey, Laser! Come on! Keep clear of
the line if you aren't starting!" His reply was a meek "oh, sorry."

All that complaining out of the way, I can say that it was a great race. The
Wetas were well bunched and the top 3 or 4 spots were constantly in flux. By
the end of our first lap in the two windward-leeward race, We were in the
middle of the Finns, Lasers, 505s, and 29ers so we were in view of a lot of
people, and passing them! The wind wasn't too shifty, but the current was a
factor. I clawed my way back through the group, from the back, with careful
choices about the pressure zones and the current (there was a stronger ebb
out in the middle). I almost lost it again on the first leeward mark
rounding, where I had to give room to two Weta and two Finns. There was
literally no moving air to leeward of them! On the last leg, a long beat
from the leeward gate to a finish line to windward of the weather mark, I
made a crucial choice to sail a single long leg, far out to the middle of
the bay into the dying ebb to over-stand the layline for the last tack to
the finish. That paid off since I overheard the RC on the radio report that
there was now a 2 kt flood at the finish and others who went tacked over for
it earlier got stuck battling the current in a wind hole a couple boat
lengths from the line. I sailed in hot and got through with just one more
tack to get over the line. I can almost swear my boat speed was just
momentum, but realistically, I don't have enough weight on the boat to have
much momentum.

So, I emerged victorious and I'm happy to say that I worked hard for it, and
along with some good fortune, the effort paid off, but boy, it was a tough
day of sailing and not the funnest weekend to pay for with a drive of 500
miles. I also don't feel that the results of just a single race in a
regatta should decide the victor. The whole fleet of Wetas that gathered to
race this weekend were experienced sailors and capable competitors. The wind
just didn't give us a chance to really mix it up out there.

A couple other things I learned:

When the wind is light in a place like the San Francisco Bay, it's not a
wimpy choice to stay ashore until the wind clearly fills in. The currents
can be treacherous, and without a motor, the Weta-like other light
performance boats-is no match for the current. You can get into serious
trouble out there if you don't have any power to move.

I'm glad I had a working VHF radio on board. I kept it on and monitored
Ch.16 and knew I could summon help if I couldn't get back in during that
struggle with the current at the bridge.

I'm glad I had checked the forecast and paid attention to the tide info so I
knew when the tide/current would peak, so I could keep my wits about me
during that fight to get back in. I kept fighting because I didn't want to
wait for the current to slack, but I also knew that it would slack in an
hour or two.

I had conservatively over-provisioned the boat with more water and snacks
than I normally carry, believing it would be a long, hot day on the bay. If
I had to spend 4 more hours outside the bay waiting for wind or current to
carry me back in, I would have been able to do so without losing much
energy.

Although it was fortunate that we were enjoying a glorious Indian Summer day
on the bay, with temps in the high 70s and clear blue skies, I regret not
bringing my kit of flares, glow sticks, mylar/foil emergency blanket, and
strobe. (They stuff into a plastic bin about the size of a 2 liter soda
bottle.) If it was later in the day when I got sucked out of the bay, it
could be dark and cold before I got back in on my own power.


Marc and I also owe thanks to Davo and other Weta sailors who had stayed
ashore. They were keeping an eye on us while we had our adventure getting
flushed out of the bay. Davo alerted the race committee, and someone came
out in a big RIB and offered us a tow in. I declined the offer (call it
hubris, call it pride?) 'cause I felt I should try to get myself out of the
situation I had gotten myself into. Plus, the day was warm and there were at
least 5 more hours of daylight. It's not being silly or wimp to have
someone on shore aware of us out there, someone who knows our sailing plan
and knows when to call the Coasties if we don't return as planned. It's a
good idea.

Aloha,

Bruce