Yesterday evening's race at the Lake did not go to plan. Although a 30 knot squall and heavy rain came through at 1800 just as we were beginning to rig the GP14, once it passed through it dried out and the north-westerly wind dropped into the low teens.
So the wind wasn't really the problem.
The problem began with the start line. The race was run from the committee hut ashore, so it was a reaching start due to the wind direction. The GP is a lovely boat, and the more I get used to her, the more I enjoy her, but she's got a very large genoa, so visibility is a bit rubbish.
Which wasn't the entire problem, but certainly contributed. It didn't get in the way of me seeing the Scorpion approaching us on starboard, for example, just as we'd hit a lull and a shift that gybed us onto port but otherwise left us stationary in the Scorpion's path.
"Protest"
Fair enough. And with another thirty seconds to go before the start, plenty of time to take a couple of penalty turns and reposition. Unfortunately, whilst I was looking for the best space to do that, half an eye on my watch and head full of tactics, neither I nor Amanda spotted the Laser hidden behind our genoa. That is, until the thump came and our bows rode up onto her.
The freeboard of a Laser is pretty close to the water, and our relative lack of velocity and the line of our bow-stem meant we just slid up and then back off; a bit of dark scuffing but no apparent damage to our boat or our victim. Damage to our pride was another matter altogether.
No excuses. It was a dumb thing to do. Yes, the start-line was crowded, but sometimes you've just got to remember to sail the boat, and first and foremost that means sailing clear and not hitting anybody else.
By the time I'd apologised profusely and we'd done our two penalty turns (and I'm not sure if it shouldn't have been four, two for the Scorpion and two for the Laser) the rest of the fleet was over the line and most of the way to the first mark.
Still dizzy from our turns, we ducked back to the line to ensure we had a clean start, set the spinnaker for the reach and set to chasing the fleet.
It could've turned out okay. It was gusty, and upwind we made good time with both Amanda and I hiking hard to keep the boat flat and pointing. Downwind, it was painfully obvious we're both still very new to the spinnaker.
The hoists and drops are getting better. And to our credit, despite the occasionally blustery conditions, we didn't hesitate to hoist at every opportunity. The sail isn't intimidating us any more as, if I'm honest, it did at first. However, we messed up a couple of drops, bringing the kite back into its bag on the wrong side of the jib sheets.
That made for a horrific tangle on the next hoist, and once the bird's nest of sail, sheets and halyard was unwound, the kite went up in an uncontrollable figure of eight that took another drop and hoist to sort out. And dropped us out irredeemably to the back of the fleet.
But it's all good practice. She's a good boat, we just need to use her to her full potential. I should stress none of this was the crew's fault, and although I think Amanda was frustrated with herself, I really hope she realises that.
Forecast looks light for Sunday. We shall have another go.
No photos. My hands were too full of boat to think of taking any. So the photo at the top is from a sunny, calm Sunday a couple of weeks ago.
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