Finding my feet (and my sense of humor) in yacht racing

In an effort to broaden her sailing experience, cruising sailor Anna Bingham found a boat to crew on at her local club, and had a blast in the process

My friend Claire told me there was no such thing as a slow race, but that’s exactly what I got – twice. The first in Uproar, a Hunter Impala, with Mandy, a very easy-going skipper and her capable crew of six.

The second with Guy and Lizzy English in Hustler 25 Tahini. To say that Guy and I couldn’t be more opposite may be quite true, but in a round-about way, that is precisely why our paths cross. So why did we find so much in common?

Guy’s manner is a little brusque to start. He insists on paying for the coffee because ‘joining his crew is only a prospective proposition’, at this point, thus, keeping a lid on any assumptions – and leading me to deduce that he takes no nonsense. We’re in the park café and passers-by regularly interrupt us to comment on my terrier who knows all the tricks when it comes to food. But his dancing on two legs has not persuaded my companion to part with any of his scone, which baffles one lady who refers to him as Parker’s mean ‘dog daddy’.

‘I am absolutely not the dog’s daddy and bare no genetic resemblance’ he says firmly in a slightly horrified tone.

We discuss shouting and Guy explains that excessive shouting and foul language is very ‘bad form’ and that Rule 69 can be used to ban foul mouth language from racing. Yes, I imagine Guy sails by the book.

We must look like an odd couple; me with scruffy jeans and liquid eyeliner, him white haired, well spoken, accomplished. But being so different left room for me to be me even more than usual, which led to far more laughs than expected.

And then of course, there is sailing. A twinkle in his eye confirmed, ‘Yes I race to win’ but age might have softened what winning actually entails… ‘Taking people out that wouldn’t otherwise, have a blast – literally in 25 knots… trying to beat Mandy!’

Mandy is the laid-back Skipper of Uproar who kindly took me along at the beginning of the summer when one of their regular crew couldn’t make it. Despite being useless compared with said ‘regular’, her partner Dave and their interesting, and very competent crew of Bella, Ross and Pete, made me feel very welcome and didn’t shout at me once!

With more notice this time, it was a great idea to meet up and get to know each other first, taking that bit out of the equation on race night. By the end of our cheese scone lunch (race date bagged) we are discussing crossing the Atlantic together.

Race night

Two weeks later, and I’m making my way to the Flushing Yacht Club launch to take part in one of its weekend handicap races. It feels like one of those bonus summer days you sometimes get in late autumn – the penetrating warmth lifts the mood and energy levels. Four more crew join us dressed in ‘we’re taking this seriously’ gear and we head off towards a boat that is heeled right over at a worrying angle.

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Then I spot what look like snorkel-wearing seals. So, these are scrubbers? (I’d just dismissed several scrubber jokes as bar banter). And the serious four join their wet-suited comrades – shouting encouragement down to their yellow-rimmed, upturned faces as they scrub the stricken boat’s keel.

‘We’re not in the same race are we?’ I ask laughing.

‘Oh yes’, says a relaxed Guy. Blimey. And with that we are dropped off on a much slower boat with a very dirty bottom. Having established that we have stiff competition I get to work surveying Tahini, a Hustler 25. ‘She might not be as fast,’ says our Skipper, ‘but we’ve got a better picnic’. He pulls out four (homemade) pieces of flapjack. ‘Four pieces?!’ exclaims Lizzie, ‘That was a bit hopeful, wasn’t it’? Well yes, compared to their eight, it might seem so.

Importantly, I learnt from the Uproar crew and add a large bar of chocolate to the swag (which is good because the wind is so light that it may take us a while to get round even this shortened course). Still, Guy considers it necessary to take the boat for a test run. After a few tacks we check the time. 1405. What times does it start I ask? 1400?! Oh dear. And because we are late, we get jammed in with all the faster boats.

We go from sight-seeing to shouting in about 6 seconds. A rather expensive-looking boat is fast approaching us from starboard. ‘STARBOARD!’ she shouts at us. There’s no time to think, we just need to move… And we do an emergency tack just as the words Green Magnum scrape our bow.

Oh, I love not being in charge. And anyway, everyone is laughing…especially Green Magnum. It’s like bumper boats but (hopefully) without the bumps. ‘Oh, a coat of varnish is more than enough of a gap’ says Guy. I guess it depends on how expensive the varnish is… not that Guy’s boat has much left to worry about.

In the slow lane

Remaining in the middle of the pack entertains us for a bit longer. But the course officer has done a good job; sailing into the wind in the first leg sorts us out and it’s not long before our weight (and let’s face it – a tonne of seaweed and me) holds us back and we are beating out on our own. We set up the spinnaker pole and tie its bag to the pulpit whilst reaching to the next mark.

There’s time to learn a bit about strategy. We discuss judgment of tacks, how there is less differentiation in speed on a run, and the use of local knowledge to identify bends verses shifts in wind direction.

As we approach the next mark we aim to arrive on the starboard side of other boats to stay in control of our line. A tactical suggestion is that we could use our position to either steal wind from another – giving them dirty air and potentially resulting in extra tacks – or stay on our line and hold another on to force it to tack late.

This is rather theoretical right now. But it explains Mandy’s ‘eat my dirt’ giggles of delight as we took Hawk during my first race experience. Guy states that it’s best to get out in front and keep your air clean altogether, which is only a remote possibility for heavy Tahini on very windy race days.

We’re ready with the spinnaker as we round the next mark for our first run and deploy it smoothly. At the next tack I’m assigned to bringing it back in but I’m not forward enough of the shrouds, which results in it dipping into the sea. Just two seconds worth of water is shockingly heavy, so it’s literally all hands-on deck to pull it back into the cockpit.

It’s another reach to the next mark, but the wind dips to 4.5 knots at points. There is literally nothing we can do so we take to eating chocolate and checking out the enormous superyacht in the bay. ‘Guess how long it is?’ Lizzie quizzes… starting off an impromptu game of Top Trumps. ‘Guess how much it was’, she asks, consulting Google.

One more mark to go and it’s another spinnaker run. The handset crackles into life. ‘Are you going to retire Tahini?’ it asks.

‘No, we’ve still got our main and spinnaker up,’ explains Lizzie, ‘so although slow we’re going to continue’.

‘Are you sure?’ Tasss…crackle, crackle… and it becomes apparent that it’s not us they want to question, but an even slower boat with a similar name. Great. We’re not going to be last.

Finally, we cross the line and this time I retrieve the spinnaker fairly professionally, which is good seeing as everyone else is already on the terrace watching.

Club community

Flushing Sailing Club seems to have a particularly healthy culture and community that has grown out of its working-man roots. Its YTC ratings-based racing and low membership cost means it caters for all sailing types, boats and speeds.

No secret handicap formula or team-racing, knock-out mentality here. But room for competitive types and tactics nevertheless. The club WhatsApp group gives access to all the crewing opportunities, photos and socials
a person could want.

This time we don’t stop for tea and cake. We had plenty to eat on the way round and I feel under pressure to get home. I’ve really enjoyed myself though. I totally get that it’s about getting out whatever the weather, for us anyway. I guess that the variety of boats, crew, and weather means that every boat has its day at some point if you race regularly.

It really is a leveller in other ways too. I never imagined that I’d enjoy the racing and the people so much. I’d quite like some stronger wind next time to test the reactions, but I can see how racing tactics and strategy are useful to cruising, proving the point that sailing across disciplines is beneficial to all.

I really must stop here as I have to go and meet Guy. He’s giving a talk on Holy Wells at 1900 tonight, and I’m going to be his assistant. Yup, this sailing thing really can take you to new places! Give it a go. Make new friends. You might like it far more than you think.

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