Swiftsure 2010 Official Blog

Written By Alec Mackenzie, Photos by Alec & Tim Knight

BadKitty

I felt good as we motored out to the start of the 58^th Swiftsure Classic Yacht race. It was a warm, sunny morning and I was with three experienced crewmates on Bad Kitty, a 34 foot “one-off Uthoff” catamaran in full ”racing” trim.

I have completed more than 15 Swiftsure races in the Cape Flattery multihull division, and apprehension of the unknown has long since been replaced with anticipation of the familiar. This is a challenging race with strong, complex tidal currents and bedeviling wind patterns. This year looked to be even more challenging than usual, with light winds and a large adverse current kicking in right from the start.

The start

We got off to a good start near the outer end of the line and ran up the Vancouver Island shore on port tack, outside most of the fast monohull fleet and the rest of our multihull competitors. We thought there was more wind off shore so we tacked out until we hit an adverse tidal rip forcing us to tack back into more favourable currents while covering our competitors. Dragonfly (formula 40 Cat), sporting a brand new set of sails, was, as expected, walking away from us in the blistering 3 – 5 knot south wind. Our other competitors, Blue lightning (F31R), Son of Raven (F31) and Cat Sass (Viva 27 cat) were way inside along the shore, hoping favourable current would make up for lack of wind.

Dragonfly

We gradually worked back to shore near William Head. By this time we were in second place behind Dragonfly, so our early gambit had paid off. Blue Lightning was close-by and played the shore tacks well, gradually pulling ahead of us as we approached Race Passage, the first real test of this race. By now, the flood tide was running better than 6 knots against us through the passage and the wind was light. We hugged the Vancouver Island side and sneaked into the passage on a slim back eddy that runs up along the shore. Blue lightning ventured a few feet further off and was immediately swept back several hundred yards

Race Passage

Like all good back eddies, this one was destined to end. We leaped across the tide line into the oncoming flood, freeing up our sails and frantically reaching across the passage hoping to claw our way past West Race Rock before the current could drag us back into the passage. Forward progress was agonizingly slow, but we just cleared the reefs, continuing on into Juan de Fuca Strait until it became obvious we were being killed by the current. By now Blue Lightning had made an excellent recovery, hugging the Canadian shore and working the currents once she got through Race Passage.

The risk of wind holes along the shore is just that – a risk; the certainty of getting flushed in the strong flood current is something else again. We took our lumps and worked back into the shore, behind Blue lightning, but well ahead of the rest (by now Dragonfly was long gone). We worked the tide lines with some of the lead monohulls but each time we tacked out, the current killed us. We couldn’t roll-tack with the Mono’s and we lost ground each time we tried.

Blue Lightning

bluelightning We weren’t going to catch Blue Lightning by sailing his game, so we headed for the American shore in the hopes of better wind, less current and an eventual port-tack lift to the turning mark at Neah Bay.

We sailed out into the fog-shrouded central strait on a gradually rising wind. By the time we approached the American shore the wind was blowing 25-knots, 30 degrees off the wave pattern made up of wind waves over ocean swells. We shifted down from reacher to jib and then threw in a main-sail reef as we beat into it, sailing fairly free to keep the boat moving. We made good time on Starboard tack, traversing the meter-plus swells and chop quite easily. Unfortunately the shoreline eventually forced us back over onto port tack, sailing directly into the nasty wave combination. There was nothing we could do but grin and bear it. Whenever we hit a three-wave train, we sailed off the top of the first wave, into the second wave which lifted our bows high into the air before diving into the front of the third wave. Bad Kitty would shudder to a stop with spray flying everywhere before recovering and charging into the next wave set.

We were not having fun.

Several large monohulls appeared out of the mist and we realized these were fast Swiftsure Bank boats that had started ahead of us. At least misery loves company, especially this kind of company! We slogged on; slowly loosing ground to the big, fast boats sailing in their kind of conditions. Our turn would come, but not until we worked out of this mess.

As we passed Pillar Point, heading up to Clallam Bay, we began wondering where our competition was. We did not have to wait long for the answer. Out in the middle of the strait we could see a multihull several miles ahead. Blue Lightning had picked the right time and place to come across the Strait, missing the worst of the confused seas. We shook out our reef and reset the reacher as we continued up the shore in gradually lightening wind. A short distance past Clallam Bay we could see Dragonfly running back down the Strait, at least twenty miles ahead of us. We beat them last year for line honours, but that outcome was not likely this year!

roundingthemark We sailed into a beautiful wind hole a few miles from the turning mark in Neah Bay. Ron prepared some hot food and we all changed into our warm evening-wear. We then sat watching tiny sailboats crossing in front of the setting sun. At least someone had wind.

With the evening social program out of the way, we thought we should get back to the job of racing. We slowly worked our way out to the wind and got back into the race. Unfortunately the Reacher, apparently weakened earlier in the race, decide now would be a good time to fail, necessitating a change back to the jib.

Things were not going well.

Rounding the Mark

Out at the mouth of Juan de Fuca Strait, the wind often dies after the sun sets. Early rounding boats can beat the shut-down and run home in strong winds, while the latecomers are stranded until the following morning. Luckily for us, this was not one of those nights.
We sailed up the Strait then tacked in to round the mark just as full darkness settled in. Our rounding was three hours behind Dragonfly and almost two hours behind Blue Lightning, just 12 hours into this race!

We decided to gibe back along the US shore before cutting over to the Canadian side for the run back to Race Rocks and home. Evidently we had forgotten the beautiful wind hole encountered on the way out, or perhaps we subconsciously wanted to experience it one more time. Sure enough, we sailed back into the middle of it and then took the best part of an hour to figure out we were not going to win any races with this particular tactic!

The sleigh-ride home

Once again we slowly worked our way back out to the wind and then headed for the Canadian shore, sailing the boat hot in 5 – 10 knots of wind. We kept our orange asymmetrical chute slightly over-sheeted, seeking sail stability as Bad Kitty accelerated down the one meter swell fronts and then slowed as she climbed up their backs.

There is one advantage of a late mark-rounding: we had a lot of monohull company and we could now use their navigation lights to rate our progress.

We started hauling them in.

We sailed 10 – 12 knots to their 8 and then 12 to 14 knots to their 9. With the apparent wind pulled well forward, our heading was only a little higher but we were a lot faster. Each gibe put another couple of boats behind us.

It was a beautiful night. Overhead we had a million stars embedded in a pitch-black sky, punctuated by numerous shooting stars. Many wishes were made, all involving competitors and future wind holes.

As we ran the last twenty miles down to Race Rocks, the wind held steady and we were sailing only 20 degrees off course. We threw in a couple of short gibes to keep a hot sailing angle and stay in the strongest band of wind.

Just before Race Rocks I caught a radio weather report of 0 knots at Ogden point. This did not sound good, since our finish line is a couple of hundred meters past Ogden Point… In a typical Swiftsure race we gibe over onto port, run through Race Passage and then head for the finish; but the strong adverse tidal current (it always seems to run against us!) and the lack of wind in towards the finish line made us break from tradition. We decided to run outside Race Rocks and then follow the ‘great circle route’ keeping the finish line on our port beam. Our plan was to stay in clean wind, miles from shore interference, and sail around the expected wind hole between us and the finish line.

We sailed outside Race Rocks in a wind speed of about 15 knots and boat speeds of 14 to 17 knots. We could now see a number of boats that had carried on through Race Passage, going S-L-O-W-L-Y close to the Vancouver Island shoreline. We felt good! We continued on starboard gibe long enough to compensate for the expected port gibe lift as we neared shore in lightening wind. By now dawn was advancing and we could see a large freighter coming out of the harbour, headed out toward our position. We held our course past the freighter’s line and then gibed over onto port.

A little early morning excitement

We had been up for almost 24 hours, focusing on sailing for most of that time. We were not at our sharpest. The gibe went well, but a moment of inattention at the helm caused Bad Kitty to continue rounding up after the gibe was complete. Well… a lot can happen in a hurry with full main and spinnaker in 15 knots of wind! I was on the (now) weather side, handling the spinnaker sheet while Bob, Ron and Jason were on the (now) leeward side. The weather hull popped out of the water and rapidly climbed into the sky. I was yelling for (and hoping for) helm correction, but by then it was probably already too late. I held the spinnaker sheet for too long, partly in the hope that I would keep the sail plan sufficiently balanced for the helm to work, and partly out of slow mental processing. I was a bit like a deer in headlights. Everything went into slow motion. I knew exactly what was happening but it seemed like it was happening to someone else.

With the top of her mast low on the horizon (from my perspective), Bad Kitty continued to round up on her own. I finally dumped the spinnaker sheet and Jason dumped the main at the same time. Bad Kitty continued to round up, but the heeling angle did not improve. Finally, with agonizing slowness, the weather hull plopped back into the water. Much to our surprise, we were still upright! It took us a minute or two to get things sorted and we were off to the race again. We must have put on quite a show for the Bridge Watch on the outbound freighter.

I have only been that high once before (also on a 35 foot cat), luckily with a similar outcome. I would not like to try that on a trimaran!

The Big finish

We reached in hard, first toward the Discovery islands, then gradually lifting till we were well clear of Trial Island, a couple of miles east of the finish line. Then we ran out of wind close to the Victoria shoreline. With our reacher out of commission, we only had a small wind-seeker to work the less than one knot ‘gusts’ that were probably caused by current running under still air.

Off in the distance we thought we could see a trimaran close to shore, several miles from the finish! As we speculated on the identity of this tri, we watched one Large Mono creep past Ogden point and slowly cross the finish line. We continued sailing straight for shore as the current swept us sideways. We sailed perhaps a couple of hundred yards as we drifted the last mile along the shore towards Ogden point. We were just able to tuck in around the Ogden point lighthouse and then spent an interminable time trying to make the finish line. For the longest time we hoped for a “Mercy horn” to put us out of our misery, (what’s a few inches in a hundred mile race?) but the race committee held no sympathy for us. We finally crossed the line at 07:10 doing 0.01 knots.

Cat Sass

catsass We dropped our sails and motored into a mostly empty inner harbour – it looked like we had passed most boats on the run back home. At the safety inspection dock they told us we were the second multi to finish (behind Dragonfly, who had finished six and one half hours ahead of us), and we had also beaten all but two of the faster-rated Mono’s that sail the same 102 mile Cape Flattery course. All of a sudden, we didn’t feel tired anymore! That mystery trimaran turned out to be Blue Lightning who spent many agonizing hours in her ‘hole’, finishing several hours behind us. I guess “wishing on a falling star” works after all (sorry Marc!). We discovered that Cat Sass had withdrawn from the Race after enduring some of the same pounding we experienced when we crossed the Strait. Son of Raven was becalmed overnight and finally managed to finish almost 9 hours after Bad Kitty.

A celebration breakfast followed by a few hours of ‘power napping’ set us right for the rest of the day. Bob and Jason ran Bad Kitty back home and I stayed on for another day to visit family.

Bob Davis

Ron Tomas

Jason Arnold

Alec Mackenzie

This chart shows the approximate tracks of Bad Kitty (red) and Blue Lightning (purple). Track points were collected every half hour, so they don’t capture actual tacking or gibing points. Blue Lightning’s slug trail shows the hours of back-tracking at the Metchosin area near the finish line. mapformultihullarticle