Herne Bay Sailing Club

Well, I survived although the race was shortened at the second gate (Colne Point) so it was a 'mere' 29 miles. The weather conditions were tough in that the winds were light and shifty, sometimes non-existent and visibility poor. For me it was a race of two halves: a great first half, rubbish second.

We arrived at the Marconi SC camping site in good time on Saturday to rig tent and boat in glorious sunshine. Their newly refurbished facilities are superb. But to the West ominously dark clouds were building. Inevitably the thunder rumbled in with a very light rain. The bad news was that the wind also dropped to nothing leaving some those racing the short course stranded. Never mind, I thought, Sunday's forecast looked perfect on my last check. What could possibly go wrong?? Note to self: never ever, EVER, think that again.

A screaming child during the night meant an all but sleepless night and at around 05:30 I snuck out of the tent to get some air. It took a couple of moments before I registered that the reason I couldn't see much was that we were blanketed in a thick, damp sea fog. The visibility was so bad that the start was delayed from 08:30 to 09:15 although there seemed to be a light breeze coming in from the south east. But it was a great sight on the hard, over 60 cats waiting to launch. There were numerous F18s like the hot new Shockwave and Nacras, Wild Cat, M20, many Spitfires, Hurricanes a few Dart 18s, a whole gaggle of Dart 15s (entered for the shorter race) and four Shadows including moi.

Finally, we got our launching orders. The first gate was at Bradwell Nuclear Power station but it was was still buried in the fog. No problem, just keep the southern shore line to starboard and we'll find it.....eventually. My start was not the best. To be frank, it stank. With a minute to go I found my self too fast and to close to the line. With no place to go I gybed round and then tried to tack too quickly in the light airs. By the time I had sorted my self out and heading in the right direction the gun had fired and we were off with me almost last. Grrrr. Never mind, with 50 miles to go let's settle down and start work. And work we all did. What little wind there was was shifting around all over the place making it very hard to settle in to a any kind of rhythm. It was a case of keeping the lightest of touches . Probably the only certainty was that there was always the tide to carry us down stream so it was inevitable we would find the Bradwell gate. Luckily for me I picked up what felt like a narrow stream of wind just where the fog was lifting and the sun begining to break through mid channel. Suddenly the couple of Hurricanes, Dart Hawks (F18) and a handful of Spitfires with whom I had been trading places for the previous hour began to fall away. And, even better, I overtook the other Shadow (who had made a great start). It was great to approach the gate at a reasonable pace (relative to the previous hour and a half) and then pick up a sea breeze that would carry us on a broad (ish) reach for the next leg up to Colne Point gate which is on the northern shore of the Blackwater estuary. It was hardly stirring stuff, the trapeze wires were unlikely to be troubled but at least we were making reasonable progress. Again, I seemed to be in the right place at the right time and gradually edged ahead of another couple of Spitfires and a Tornado (don't suppose I'll get to do that too often).

Finally, the Colne Point gate became visible. Sadly, for me, this is where things went horribly 'Pete Tong.' The Course Shortened flag was flying which was not totally surprising given the conditions. However, I misunderstood the sailing instructions governing the this signal at this particular gate and ended up having to go through it twice. It was galling to see the boats I thought I had left behind catch me and hoist their kites and disappear off into the increasing murk back from where we had just come.

The return to the Bradwell Gate was a lonely affair. It was kite flying almost the whole way but no matter what I tried I just didn't seem to get the downwind speed I expected. Mind you I had no one else to compare with although two single-handed Stealth F16s in the 'short' race both passed me. Needless to say, I was mighty glad once the two squat towers of Bradwell began to loom out of the thickening murk.

After almost 6 hours of racing I was finally back. Frustrated by what might have been as well as very hot and tired. Just to rub it in, the other Shadow was 11th overall while I had to be happy with 35th. Not last but could have done better, a lot better! Has it cured me of long distance racing? I'll tell you after the 'Forts'.....

Bruce
Shadow 002