52 | THE YACHTING YEAR 2018
we motored out we had bacon sandwiches together in the
cockpit. In front of us there was a wonderful sight –
hundreds and hundreds of yachts of all sizes
going in all directions. Some were making
their way towards the start line. You
could see the tension in their sails, sheets
and crew as they settled into the rhythm
of their start. e start times were on a
strong ebbing, west-going tide, and on the
day there was a reasonable breeze from the
west, helping boats beat away from the start
line.
By 8am we had the sails up and were sailing
around in the swirl of yachts, some passing quite
close but most keeping a good lookout. Nonetheless,
vigilance was important.
It was great to feel the pull of the sails and the boat
moving easily through the water. Her bottom was really
clean for the race ahead. Sabrina was shipshape, the family
were happy and excited and the sun was out on a lovely
day with a solid Force 3, forecast to build from the WSW.
All around we could see boats full of people counting
down the time, as we were, to the start.
I had decided to start nearer the mainland shore on
starboard tack. It seemed slightly favoured and would
avoid the short tacking along the island shore that the
racier eets had been forced to do in the earlier starts. e
short tacking would have been a real bene t because the
ebbing west-going current always starts over there rst.
But, as we were in the last start, the tidal current was
building and spreading across the whole Solent to whoosh
us towards the Needles.
With less than 10 minutes to go, we could see the bunch
of boats that we would be jostling with at our end of the
line. Getting the start right comes with practice and I was
quite rusty!
You also need a fair measure of luck as boats start to
speed up and compress towards the line. We crossed on
time and clear, but there were boats all around. A bigger
yacht next to us was giving us dirty air. Sabrina was sailing
with her full cutter rig, but weighing around 5.5 tons (with
her anchor ashore), the old girl needed clear air in the
Force 3 to keep her zipping through the water.
However, in a few minutes, almost shockingly, there was
space all around us as boats spread away at di erent
speeds and angles. We would have to tack along the Solent
for just over 13nm to round the Needles.
ere were hundreds of boats in front of us,
but our race was keenly focused on the half-a-dozen boats
around us. e handicap system meant we
should have been of similar speeds and we were
already holding our own.Wind starts to build
As we raced past the wonderful Newtown Creek, the wind
started to build to a solid Force 4. Sabrina was heeling
under the press of wind on the sails. I tweaked these with
a critical eye, hoping to marry the passage of the wind as it
passed behind the leeches of the jib and staysail. I had to
keep working to not over-trim the mainsail and stall this
wind’s already disturbed passage. e rhythm on board
was calming down I was settled into the cockpit of my
racing machine; Kate was engineering a cup of tea in this
heeling world; Jack was nestled below behind a lee cloth, anew adventure ahead of him;
Molly was letting the wind blow
through the hair of her Barbie doll.
We were around 90 minutes into
the race when the tide swept us
past Hurst Castle. e plan here
is to short tack along the line
of the Shingles bank for the
most current until you can
judge the time to head towards the
Needles lighthouse, then turn towards
St Catherine’s Point. Sabrina was going
really well, with a good two knots of current
pushing us along. We were racing and it felt great to
feel the whipped-up spray from the bow wave as
Sabrina heeled to the press of wind and shouldered her
way through the Solent chop. Her lively nature could be
felt in the tiller as she moved from wave to wave and the
displaced water came back together leaving a foaming
wake. e boats around us were leading our class and all
were doing their best, some gaining here and there, some
not. But we were with them! We were sailing past the
slower boats of the classes that started before us and
judgements needed to be made of their competence. One
of these, sailing along on port tack, would have had to
change direction to avoid us charging along on starboard,
but I judged that
it was safer to duck behind them and let them
continue to bob along.The wreck at the Needles
ere is much written about the SS Varvassi wreck, lying
just below the Needles lighthouse. Our pilotage notes- and ambitious gut feeling – allowed us to cut this corner.
We passed close to the broken water at the foot of the
Needles and waved to the crew on the RNLI lifeboat, on
station nearby.
is sharp turn meant the wind moved a. We could
hoist and set our big jib on a furler – there had been too
much wind to have it alo for the long
beat from the start!
With best speed I set the new sail with Kate and kids in
the cockpit revelling in the thrill of a level boat and the
change of scenery of the majestic chalk cli s that lead
away from the Needles towards Freshwater.
Sabrina was being pulled along by nearly 600sq of
willing Dacron towards St Catherine’s Point, just under
13nm ahead and the halfway point of the race. With
the sheets eased away and the big headsail pulling us
southeast, our attentions turned to lunch and we sat
together in the cockpit enjoying our picnic sandwiches.
e eet by now had spread all around, hundreds of
them ahead converging on St Catherine’s Point, but also
behind there was the pleasant view of hundreds of boats
that had been le in the wake of Sabrina. So far it
was a really good day!
We had chosen the inshore route towards St Catherine’s,
to avoid the last of the ebb tide against us, and made some
early gains. Over the next hour or so this evened out, with
the boats further out to sea coming back, perhaps in
slightly more breeze. By this stage most of the nearby
boats were bigger than us, from the classes that started
ahead of us, and their longer waterlines were helping them
along.
TYY4 Round the island.indd 52 04/12/2017 15:18