52 AEGEAN RALLY..... WHAT HAPPENED ?... WHY WE WILL NOT RACE AGAIN .....

The 2015 Aegean Rally was a bust... After preparing for the event, booking rooms at the Islands that would be visited, arranging for crew transportation... the organizing body HORC cancelled the event 10 days before the start gun.... so that now all our deposits on rooms,etc where lost... The resultant cost loss was extreme, had the HORC cancelled 15 days before the start gun then deposits could have been saved, and we would not have lost so much money.

This was how my Aegean rally started... I had invited fellow crew members to come and race with us in the 52 Aegean Rally. I had gathered 10 of some of the better sailors that have come though the sailing school and offered them a chance to go and race with the big boys. Full on, no holds, a professional operation, Rooms in all the ports of call to stay in, meals on board when racing meals ashore at venues, supplied by the organizer.. a very professional event.. Crew uniforms, plus training before the event so that the crew would become one ...

What Happened ..
Well once the cancellation was issued,  we went into a bit of a daze... in the following days the HORC was bombarded with complaints ... the economic crisis should not effect sailing, the bank closures would not stop racing, similar rhetoric was forth coming. So finally they conceded and offered to run 2 weekend courses and call this the Aegean Rally. The first weekend race would take place on the original start date and the second weekend race would follow a week later... what happened in between was up to the individual boat..
I was committed, I had 8 individuals coming to Europe from all over the world, and had to some how provide them with entertainment , sailing big winds and competition..
Crew arrived and we went though training, including the tricky dip pole gybe on the spinnaker.. actually it went very well .. at the dock... and when we went out that first day if went just as well. Mind you it was not blowing the 20-30 knots it would on the race but it went well... Second and third days training went along with out a hitch with crew member getting to know each other and confidence was building in the crew.. the day arrived for our trip to Athens and final race inspection.. as well as the skippers meeting.
The HORC had convinced the Greek Navy to loan the Battleship Averof for the skippers meeting and cocktail party, it was a nice event with plenty of food and drink as well as a well presented outline of the courses.  The next day loomed on us and we had a few issues still to take care of on board least of all was a mainsail that had blown the first reef... all was at hand and was being repaired as the crew was enjoying itself. The following morning the crew replaced the main back on to the boom and we where ready to race.

The First Race...
It was blowing, when I say blowing, wind speeds at the start line hit 30 knots just for openers , the RC laid a long start line with a windward mark to turn around before we went down wind to the North tip of Hydra island. The start was off Falrio Marina with the windward mark close to the the retaining quay off Flisvos. To say that these where survival conditions would not be wrong we opted for a no3 and one reef, which made us over powered in the gusts but otherwise where OK. The start was a bit of a joke, the RC basically sent off everyone together with no class separation. We had a decent start 3 over the line and 4th around the windward mark. It was at this point we had to decide spinnaker or no spinnaker, it was a solid 35 knots true down wind Apparent wind was hit 27 knots, and we where already surfing with just the main and jib up...

I had promised the crew a ride and so we did it, hoisted the 2.2 storm chute and went for it... blew the reef out and off we went like a bat out of hell !! Boat speed jumped from 9 knots under main and Jib, to over 13, 14 knots with the chute up... and we where flying...  we quickly caught up the yachts who opted for white sails passed them and then set out to catch the only 3 other yachts who set chutes... this is where things got interesting as we did finally catch up with them by the windward mark (some 35NM down course), how ever there consistent high boat speeds finally beat us on corrected time... (more about how that works later ).
Needless to say K3 performed extremely well, she is stable at high speeds and does not roll excessively, we surfed waves and manged not to wipe out at all... off Aegina Island wind speeds became very gusty, with recorded gusts hitting 47 knots, and still the chute hung in there... actually it became and issue the chute is up, and the only way it was coming down again was for some one to cut it down,(which was not going to happen!!)....
We reached the North tip of Hydra and where in a solid second place with the IRC yachts still not in site, a very successful gybe in heavy air ( all those practices we did guys), took us around the corner of Hydra and in to BIG seas and gusty wind conditions, steering was getting tough and we did almost wipe out several times, but thanks to a rudder that goes down 2.60meters and some luck we manged to stay on our feet...
All this action and it was still only 5 pm in the afternoon, we had sailed some 38 nm in less than 4.5 hours... not bad all in all.. however the pay back was about to begin...

The spinnaker take down was a little rugged, .... yes it went in the water and was almost a shrimp net but through some quick thinking by the fore deck crew most of it ended up on deck.  We turned the mark and started the chase for first place.... we had up a No 3 and a reefed main, boat speed was in the high 7's low 8's, how ever the seas conditions made for a very square and rough ride.
The return back to the finish was shaping up to be long slog up hill... dusk fell and we where still on the heals of the lead boat, he was easily in sight and closing slowly...by the time it got dark we had lost him to view, but still had him on the web site transponder, he went further west than we wanted to go, we hung on to a more rhumb line course in the hope of closing distance. 

The finish line was set off the point of Voulagemei, and we hit the coast west of the line which meant that we still had to tack up to the line in order to cross. I had been following the lead boat, and going west more had paid off as he had pulled away somewhat, but was still insight, however a second yacht had creeped ahead of us and was some minutes ahead... we crossed the line 12.45 minutes behind the leader and 3 minutes behind second place, which made us third across the line.

The Final Results

In most international races world wide the handicap system is based on a time over distance correction, based on the size of yacht. There are other factors also to consider but essentially these are the criteria. The race was run under the IMS/ORC handicap system, (which as far as a handicap system goes, is truly mystifying). The K3 was second from the bottom in our class as far as handicap was concerned, with all the other yachts (12) owing us time.

The race course was over 45 miles long... the yachts that crossed in front of us owed us a considerable amount of time, and when corrected out we should have them and finish on top. Unfortunately the Greek interruption of the handicap system has alot to be desired... it seems that the greeks take a few more calculations in to effect when they calculate the final handicap, amongst them is the average wind speed that the yacht sailed in (how they guess that is a mystery), guessing the wind speed for each yacht over a 45 mile course is a good trick, almost impossible...
Koralia 3 corrected out 4th in class, which quite honestly is ridiculous given the distance/time we finished behind the leaders. 

Greek racing is reserved for those upper class greeks that have joined a yacht club and found a yacht that they can race on. The cross section of competitors and questionable yacht owners reflect the state of private yachting in Greece. 
Until such time when clubs openly encourage outside competitors, and the handicap system comes in to line with accepted international practices, racing a foreign yacht in the Aegean Rally will make it impossible to win against the Greek system. 

STORM TACTICS AND WHAT IT MEANS TO A SALTY OLD BN....

I’m 57 years old, and have been sailing for most of my life, Royal navy, Ocean racing, 4 times across the Atlantic under sail, 2 times across the Pacific and once down south as far as 56 degrees south. I've only been scared at sea four times. By scared, I mean worried that I wouldn't see dawn. Three of those episodes involved major gales with opposing ocean currents. The fourth was a different combo — a major storm combined with a jammed sail. We made it through that last one, but it was stressful.

I've been miserable for week-long stretches.

This isn't to say I haven’t been worried or uncomfortable at other times. I have been, truly. In fact, I've been miserable for week-long stretches. But misery is my middle name. Offshore sailors have to be stoic.Suffering is just part of the mix. I like to think of the experience as an organic social strainer that naturally weeds out the bozos, landlubbers, and dirt dwellers who are better off hugging a rock.

The reasons I am not scared offshore are many.  One of the chief reasons is that I’m not scared of death. I fear dying in some uncomfortable, prolonged way, true. But everyone dies. It’s part of life. Change is our only constant, and death is the ultimate change. I view death as really just a scheduling conflict: you might want to croak off on a Saturday so you get one more Friday night beer-blast in, but God might send you off on a Wednesday morning. There’s no shame in death; only in not living while alive.

If I knew that sailing offshore would kill me, would I continue?

My life’s goal is freedom. My boat is the ultimate tool to achieving that lofty goal. On the outset of my first circumnavigation, on the lip of the Eastern Pacific, I thought about the 3,200 miles of empty ocean before me. I asked myself: If I knew that sailing offshore would kill me, would I continue? My answer surprised me. It was an unqualified “Yes!”

The life I lead is so intoxicating and riveting and free and fulfilling that I’d gladly sacrifice all my tomorrows for another one or two minutes of today. I’m in the moment, and it is a very, very nice moment.

I do not ‘hope for the best’ and pray I’ll be okay. Instead, I prepare for the worst.

If sin exists, this is it. But the ‘death thingy’ is only a small part of my offshore philosophy. I’m seldom scared at sea because I work hard to be prepared to survive the conditions I’ll encounter. Most disastrous voyages begin at the dock with a lack of foresight and preparation. I do not ‘hope for the best’ and pray I’ll be okay. Instead, I prepare for the worst. This gives me a level of self-confidence and serenity that others may lack.

Let’s take a peek at anchoring, for instance. Anchoring is the bedrock skill of the coastal sailor. I have over $10,000 invested in having my anchor hold. Many people find this amount excessive, while I, frankly, find it paltry. I spend the vast majority of my cruising life “on-the-hook.” What’s more important than having my anchor hold to a person such as myself?  That’s why I have five anchors, a 250-foot chain rode, four 200-foot Nylon rodes, an anchor windlass, and various other bits to ensure my vessel stays put. The concept is simple: I should be able to safely and dependably anchor my vessel at will, given a decent bottom (sand or mud) and appropriate depth. If any vessel can hold, I should be able to hold. Thus, I mouse my shackles, rig my chafe gear, and juggle my chain claws with a clear and definable goal — to maintain position while others drag.

Shore is the danger, not the open sea.

Yes, I have three different anchor snubbers aboard. Yes, all this gear costs money and takes up space. But that’s is the price of admission in Minerva Reef, Beveridge Reef, and Chagos, locations where we regularly anchor in horrible weather conditions for months at a time. The other reason I’m not worried at sea is because I’m away from shore. Shore is the danger, not the open sea. I like to think I’m always the first sailor to leave an exposed anchorage before it turns into a lee shore. I’m proactive. I crank up. I move. My job is easier offshore. While sailing in deep ocean, I have many options as a storm approaches. First and foremost, I reduce sail. This is the primary difference between an inshore sailor and an offshore veteran — the seasoned veteran always has the correct amount of canvas up. (Yes, we still say canvas in this Age of Dacron.)

My current vessel, a sturdy 57 foot  ketch, is a delight in a blow.  As the wind increases, I roll up the genoa while unrolling the storm staysail. Then, as the it increases more, I tuck in a single reef, a double reef, and finally I douse my mainsail, hoisting my storm trysail.

Usually, it isn’t the storm gear that saves a vessel from floundering. It’s the experience of her crew.

With my flat-cut storm staysail, my tiny storm trysail, and a double-reefed mizzen, I can (semi)comfortably and safely sail to windward in 40+ knots. If my course is off the wind and my vessel is experiencing any tendency to round up or brooch, I trail a little something astern. This can be as simple as two fenders on 75 feet of line, or a small ‘gale-rider’ drogue. Anything that creates a mild turbulence will do, and the effect is often dramatic and immediate. A vessel that is wallowing and fighting its helm instantly becomes manageable upon launch of the fenders.

There are times, of course, when the sea and wind builds to such a crescendo that all forward movement is inadvisable. In these conditions, I heave-to.

I’ve never seen God’s face, but the closest I’ve come is aboard a small boat in a large ocean, pirouetting atop a giant wave.

Heaving-to is easy and fast. You merely allow a tiny amount of sail to remain up to steady your vessel’s roll and to keep her positioned approximately 45 degrees off the wind. This usually means I have the extremely rugged storm trysail up —  with perhaps a double or triple reefed mizzen — and my helm hard over. Helm hard over? Yes. I leave the helm hard over as if to come about. Since the boat isn’t moving there is no water flow past the rudder, so the rudder doesn’t work and the boat doesn’t come about. But it tries to, and stalls out on repeat. The boat gets a little forward speed, the rudder kicks in — and kills that speed.

If at first she hunts, I micro-adjust my mainsheet, traveler, vang, and helm until she is almost dead in the water. She will sit there for days (I’ve hove-to for 72 hours plus, at times) as pretty as you please. This has worked for 90% of the gales I’ve encountered on my circumnavigations. If you perfect heaving-to to the ultimate degree, your vessel will have zero speed forward and be pushed directly downwind sideways with your keel making considerable turbulence in the water.

This resulting ‘slick’ to windward serves to trip/trick the waves into breaking before they reach you. I’ve made it through major gales with patches of dry deck showing amid huge breakers, all because of this ‘slick’ effect. Remember — losing all forward motion isn’t easy nor quick to accomplish, but it’s well worth the effort. As a test, drop a wet paper towel into the sea to windward. If it appears to be magically sucked up directly to weather, that’s perfect, because it means the boat is drifting directly downwind!

Another option is to ‘run off’ before the wind and breaking seas.

This can be done if

1. the gale isn’t too severe;
2. you have plenty of sea room, and;
3. you’ll be heading fast in the direction you desire.

One advantage of this method is that it presents your highly buoyant transom to the waves. The downside of this method is that, as the wind and waves increase, your vessel starts sliding down the face of such large seas so fast that her rudder aerates. She can spin out (broach) or tumble end-for-end (pitch-pole) during such conditions. Pitch-poling is nearly always catastrophic to the vessel, and often fatal to the crew. This is where a Jordan Series Drogue is worth its weight in gold. This is basically a long rode (line, Nylon) with (in the case of our 43-foot ketch) 136 small cones or drogues attached.

The advantage is that the series drogue isn’t in one wave while the boat is experiencing a different wave (and the horrible resulting shock load), but rather it is immersed in many waves. Thus, there’s little shock loading (except when a large sea breaks aboard) and the Series Drogue suffers almost no damage even in prolonged hurricanes.

Of course, the boat is oriented transom-to the waves. This makes the rudder vulnerable. So it must be secured amidships. The plus side of this is that 99% of sailboats want to drift nose down, so it is easier to keep them in this attitude than to maintain a ‘head up’ position to the wind and waves. If I don’t want to offer my transom to the waves, I deploy my Paratech sea anchor on 250 feet of stretchy Nylon attached via a shackle to 250 feet of heavy chain. I’m careful to make sure that we’re crest-to-crest. This means that the boat and the parachute anchor crest on the waves at precisely the same moment about 400 to 450 feet apart. This is important. If the boat crests a wave while the parachute is in the trough, they are suddenly 40 to 60 feet different, and the resulting shock load can snap lines, rip off chocks, and decapitate the main bitts.  All these tried-and-true options, once mastered, take the sting out of storm strutting. Now, in many ways, I look forward to an approaching gale. I call them to me — not in challenge, but in acknowledgment of their power and beauty and majesty.

I’ve never seen God’s face, but the closest I’ve come is aboard a small boat in a large ocean, pirouetting atop a giant wave.

SILVER SPIRIT BECOMES 'SPIRIT OF POROS'....

Latest News:

After talks with the mayor of Poros, we will be renaming our Whitbread 60 , “Spirit of Poros Island”. The idea is to advertise the island and show it as an Ideal place for yachts to visit and stay. To start the ball rolling we will be entering the Yachting spring Series. Starting with the Hydra race in March, the Poros Race in April finishing with the Kythonos race at the end of April.

We are looking for Crew, we need 15 new crew members. These are volunteer places you pay your own expenses. The yacht will supply basic services during the race weekends only.  Starts and finishes will be in Athens, off Palio Faliron, Marina Flisvos.

PLEASE CONTACT US FOR CREW PLACES AND DETAILS ABOUT POSITIONS AVAILABLE.