Grenada Sailing Week 2013

Posted on May 17, 2013 by erica

“Any boat that can outsail your own boat is (a) crewed by professionals, (b) dangerously light and underbuilt, or (c) a hot high-tech expensive racing boat.” –Chuck Gustafson, How to Buy the Best Sailboat

Patronus (left) in her first race!

Keep this quote in mind as we prepare for our first race on s/v Patronus, which is (a) crewed by six children under the age of 12, (b) overbuilt, heavy, and safe, and (c) a liveaboard cruising boat…

It had been a while since we were at a marina with shore power so when we investigated the two places with docking, we found that one had a reasonable rate and we were planning on going there. But then we called the Port Louis Marina to get their rates and availability. Chris spoke with Danny, the assistant manager and an avid racer, who informed us that we could get dockage at half price for 10 days if we entered and sailed in the Grenada Sailing Week. It hadn’t crossed our minds to race our home, but half price on dockage sounded good! We invited our friends on s/v Anything Goes to sail with us as we thought everyone would enjoy the experience.

We were in the perfect place to enjoy the Super Bowl!

After a quiet Sunday and a fun night watching the Super Bowl at the bar YOLO (You Only Live Once), we were all jazzed up and ready for our big debut on the Caribbean racing scene. Grenada Sailing Week 2013 was already in full swing. In fact, we had missed two of the four days of sailing already! We were placed in the “Fun Class”, which is where they put the boats who race with their laundry, SCUBA tanks, 15 rolls of paper towels, guitar, schoolbooks, teddy bears, 30 pairs of shoes, and 6 kids.

Well, we were in the right place, because we were ready for some fun! Chris and I were beyond excited to introduce our children and our friends on Anything Goes to the world of sailboat racing. Chris and I met on our college racing team and raced for years before having our kids. Racing was a big part of our lives and we have amazing memories from Key West Race week, the many regattas held in Newport, Rhode Island, long distance races, such as Annapolis to Newport, and more. Chris, (and I know I have bragged about his sailing experience before), has done several big races, including the Transatlantic, the Fastnet, and Cowes Week.

Going over the race courses with the crew.

We headed out of the marina on Monday morning, following a fleet of boats on their way to the starting line. It was just like old times. We had a crew meeting and Chris got into “total race mode” (he did NOT get the memo that we were in the Fun Class. He was out for blood!). We wore matching outfits and our new Mount Gay Hats (the Barbados rum company that sponsors the regatta) and the kids donned all their pirate gear to put some fear into our competition. The competition pointed and smiled and said, “How cute!” Chris grizzled and almost said, “Break out the Whomper!” (Bonus points if you get that reference).

Our hearty crew intimidates the competition!

The Race Committee hoped to have two or three races that day. But first we had to wait around for the committee boat to get the course set. This gave us time to tell stories about our old racing days to the kids. It was all very nostalgic. The races began and since we were the last class to start, we had the opportunity to watch all the other classes do their starts. This was also a great way to teach the kids about one of the best ways to win a race: nail the start. The starting line is an imaginary line drawn between an anchored Race Committee boat and an anchored mark, which is a large, floating ball filled with air. The committee boat uses a series of horns, guns, and flags to signify the start of each race. The idea is to be sailing at full speed just as the gun goes off at the start of the race. You can imagine how difficult this is to do on a sailboat. Now add the fact that a bunch of other boats are also trying to cross that imaginary line at the same time.

The “crew” talking smack at the start line.

Chris is an excellent starter. He always has been. He can “read the line”, which means he can tell which side of the line is favored, accounting for the wind. He can also speed up or slow down with incredible accuracy, so that he crosses the start line exactly when he wants to. A quick thinker, he can also get incredibly close to other boats and have confidence in his knowledge of the rules so that we don’t “foul” another boat and get penalized. There are books filled with the rules of racing, defining every situation and explaining who has the “right of way” in every chance meeting of two boats. Chris seems to have instant access to this information in his mind. In our first race, we had a great start. Let’s allow him to give the particulars, shall we?

The Races, by Chris

Patronus in race mode: bimini, dodger, man overboard gear, and barbecue all in place!

We were placed in the “Fun Class” which worked out fine since there was already another Beneteau 473 in the class and we could use their rating. The race committee was very flexible about letting us in even though the regatta had started the day we arrived. We couldn’t race on the second day of the regatta either since we had already planned on running in a “hash”. I’m sure you heard about that from Erica! We prepped the boat for racing, which consisted of removing the bow anchors due to their rules. Other than that, we left our “home” intact! It was a long way from the days of limiting what each person could bring on the boat to save weight. I even filled a water tank the morning of the race since I figured we would probably need to do some dishes during the day with 10 people on board!

Wendy and Chris in “race mode”.

I wasn’t sure what to expect since I was essentially racing my home. It had been a while since I had raced, but with 5 minutes to the start of the first race my adrenaline kicked in. It does not seem to matter whether you are on the starting line with Russell Coutts (Gold Medalist and four-time winner of the America’s Cup) or a bunch of cruisers. I immediately went into hyper-competitive mode and just wanted to bury everyone else at the start. Let’s just say that the cruisers are a little easier to beat at the start than Russell Coutts! We were at least 30 seconds ahead of everyone else on every start.

Youngest Crew Award recipients

Craig trimming the jib

The racing was tough for our boat. We have an inner forestay which required someone to go forward to pull the foot (bottom) of the genoa sail around on each tack. Erica was designated the foot-puller on the first day which left Wendy, Craig and I to run the rest of the cockpit during tacks. As helmsman, I had the easy job, which left Wendy and Craig to tack the Genoa. I would release the sheet (rope that controls the sail) during the tack while Wendy waited to tail (pull) the new sheet until Erica was able to get the foot around the inner forestay. Craig was the designated grinder (person who works the winch to pull in the sheet). It was exhausting work for Craig since by the time the foot came around the inner forestay, the wind was already filling it, making it difficult to get it trimmed in.

Bow Babes

Approaching the weather mark. We’re “making it” on this turn.

I attempted to adhere to a policy of minimizing tacks due to our obvious inefficient means of tacking, but in the second race my aggression got the better of me. Instead of following the principal of trying to overstand the weather mark, we tacked right on the lay line. A wind shift close to the mark meant that we “weren’t making it”, so we had to tack two more times to get around the mark and then had to give right of way to two boats. In the end, we went from being out in front to five minutes behind. We learned our lesson: avoid tacking when you have an inner forestay!

Patronus in the lead

We did manage to set the asymmetrical spinnaker on the downwind legs a few times. This involved first furling the jib since the tack must be secured around the furled genoa. We sailed three races that first day and ended up with a first, a third and a first, which gave us an overall win for the day. Not a bad way to introduce the kids to racing!

“rail meat”

The second day was a bit tougher and we ended up with a third and a second for a daily second. After racing only two of the four days, we managed to earn third place overall for the regatta in the Fun Class (let’s just say the other boats in our class had an equally abysmal attendance record as Patronus). The racing was fun for everyone and the kids got to see firsthand what it is like to race large sailboats. We even had a few close mark-roundings, which gave the kids a taste of competitive racing.

Craig, Wendy, Erica, and Chris enjoy our first place race and a celebratory beer.

As with any racing environment, the camaraderie creates an instant sailing community. We enjoyed the after-race parties and met the racers on several other boats. The awards ceremony was delightful as we watched the kids go up to the podium to accept our trophies. We won four awards: First Place on Day Three, Second Place on Day Four, Third Place Overall, and Youngest Crew. You can imagine how excited the kids were to get their crew trophy!

John Kolius, America’s Cup Skipper, stated it well: “Sailing is a good sport. You don’t have to beat up the other guy like you do in boxing or football; you just try to outsmart him, and outsail him, and then you go out and have a beer with him.”

This one easily makes it into my top ten favorite pics for the year!

Cutie Olivia learns how tiring a full day of racing can be.

Wendy trims the main

Rounding the mark

Big hugs for a great day of racing

Our skipper does an amazing job

Receiving our awards

The kids go up for their Youngest Crew Award

The big kids get to go up for our next award. This is the most dressed up we’ve been in months!

Our awards, plus a $100 gift certificate to local marine supply store (which was spent the very next day!)

Skal! to great racing and kudos to the Grenada Sailing Week committee!

Guest Blogger: Grenada Fishing

Posted on May 17, 2013 by erica

conwaysailors.com welcomes Guest Blogger Craig Boyer from s/v Anything Goes! While in Grenada, Craig and Chris had a very “excellent adventure”. Craig’s story captures it perfectly!

Craig Boyer, s/v Anything Goes

A Fishing Tale, By Craig Boyer

Let’s boil life down to its essence. Life is about keeping your family safe, happy, fed and setting your kids up for future success. If you carry a Y chromosome, imbedded deep in your brainstem is the desire to hunt and provide food for your family. Something deep within us men makes us feel connected to the world after communing with nature and bringing back the Earth’s bounty to our table. While sitting in Chris’s cockpit in Port Louis Marina, we were talking to a local fisherman, who was trying to sell us lobster. Chris and I decided we needed a little adventure in our lives. Catching lobster sounded a hell of a lot more fun than buying them. We asked our new fisherman friend, Kaylon, “Instead of buying lobster, will you take us lobster hunting with you?”. “No problem, Mon”, he said.

Two days later we were hailing a bus, which is just a guy with a van for hire, heading for the fishing camp in Bagati Bay. It was a typical bus ride in the Caribbean. The driver was blaring soca music and driving hell bent for leather up and down winding streets, dodging dogs, cars, women with strollers, and school children. Miraculously, the driver stayed out of the gutter, which was literally 3 feet wide and 2 feet deep, where the shoulder should be. A little hair raising for the uninitiated. Finally, we arrived at the end of a rutted dirt road that passed between the airport runway and the medical school. Chris and I really didn’t have any idea what we were getting ourselves into. How hard could it be? You just dive down and grab the big bugs. Caribbean lobsters don’t even have claws. Well, it became a little more challenging in a 23 foot open boat, 12 miles off shore, diving 70 feet deep, in 6 foot seas and the wind howling.

Bagadi Bay was a small beach with only a handful of local wooden fishing boats. These are very common up and down the island chain, as every fisherman has one. Every time we saw one bobbing at sea, we would say, “Man, I wouldn’t want to be out there in that.” It was obvious at that point we weren’t taking out a modern dive charter boat to get our catch. Nope, this was the real deal, as it has been done for centuries in these islands.

Getting the boat ready

There were about twenty guys scurrying around getting ready for the day, while Chris and I stood around kicking the sand, talking, trying to look nonchalant and less useless than we were. Guys were loading gasoline tanks, scuba tanks, spear guns and lobster snares into the boats. Pretty soon we were motioned into one of the boats so we could leave. All the small fishing boats in the leeward and windward islands are painted orange or pink inside. I was told it makes them easier to see when they are out at sea. Some even had a cool paint job to match the outer hull as well. Not our boat. Let’s call our boat well seasoned. It was a 23’ boat made out of plywood, epoxy and rusty nails. Any orange paint inside of her hull had worn away at least ten years ago. The outside was a little better, there was still a little green paint left in a few spots where it hadn’t flaked off yet. There were four wooden benches and a center console for the skipper. The gas was in a blue jug with a hole cut in the cap for the fuel line that was held in place with a rusty screwdriver. Chris and I gave each other a look that said, “Holy shit”. Kaylon and a couple of his fishing buddies, Simone and Glen, were in our boat. Glen then pulled the cover off the V6 Yamaha 200hp engine and wrapped a rope around the flywheel and gave it a yank. Electric starters were clearly a luxury that these guys couldn’t afford and frankly were not needed. About this time it was becoming clear that we were in the presence of real men.

Kaylon gets suited up

The engine fired to life after a few pulls and we were off speeding into the fresh morning air and sea. Kaylon told me to get my wetsuit on as he put on a full length yellow rain slicker. Within a minute it became clear why. We were one of seven boats that fanned out into the bay together. We passed a small island just outside the bay and we were then in the open ocean. We sped due south through six foot swells and 15-20 knot winds. The waves were crashing over the bow, drenching us and filling the boat. The spray stung my face as our boat surged into the sea heading for our hunting grounds 12 miles off shore.

The boats split up into smaller groups as we motored through the rolling waves. None of the boats fished alone as a safety measure. We were clearly on the ragged edge. These guys didn’t depend on ANY technology for safety, but they trusted and depended on each other if anything went wrong.

When we arrived at our destination, I told Kaylon that no matter what happened, from then on I had already done the coolest thing I’d done in years. I live on a boat with my wife and three girls and I don’t get many chances to hang out with guys doing guy stuff. This was about as manly as it gets. Simone stayed on the boat as we prepared to dive. Chris and I strapped our tanks to the BCDs and got our gear out and basically looked ridiculous as Kaylon and Glen plunged into the ocean. We had bearly stopped the boat in 70’ of water when Glen had donned his round Jacques Cousteau mask and tied his tank to his torso with some kind of nylon strap/rope. He flipped over board in his polo shirt and cargo pants! Time is money and these guys were efficient. Meanwhile Chris and I struggled to put on our mask, flippers, snorkel, BCD and tanks. The weights in the BCDs made the BCD/tank combo so heavy it was hard to put on in the rolling boat. We eventually threw the tanks overboard and put them on in the water. Let me add in here that I am not dive certified. Kaylon was not concerned at all when he asked me this 2 days before. Chris is certified and I have done a couple of dives with him. That’s it. Glen also mentioned to us that he was not certified either. After a couple of dives he told us “I am not certified, but I am qualified”. Chris and I turned to each other and said in unison, “Yep!”.

By the time we started descending to the ocean floor, Kaylon had a lobster and several lambi (conch) that he was putting in the lambi basket. The Ocean floor was flat and featureless with a lot of small corals and rocks scattered about. Chris and I searched for lobster but didn’t see any. There were, however hundreds of lambi and we went about collecting what the sea would give us. I managed to keep barf out of the bilge by throwing up overboard between our dives.

We were told before we left that no matter what, don’t let go of the Lambi basket. Chris and I both said “okay” without having any idea what a lambi basket was. It turns out that it’s a basket tied to a rope and drug across the ocean floor by our boat. Ours was about 2 ft wide and about 40 inches deep and made out of rusty chain link fence and old rope. After the basket was full, we all went to the surface and climbed in the boat. The basket had a large buoy tied to it that the last man up had to fill with air to float it to the surface. Then a couple of the guys would haul it up beside the boat and start unloading it. Once the lambi made it into the boat, Simone took a hatchet and cut a hole in the base of the shell. He then passed it off to Glen who stuck a knife into the hole and cut the lambi’s attachment to the shell. The conch was then easily removed from the shell and tossed into a 5 gallon bucket. Eventually our bucket overflowed and the lambi started falling into the bilge to mix with the salt water, paint chips, rust, gasoline, sweat, blood, scuba tanks, and bare feet. That’s where your conch fritters come from, folks.

cleaning the day’s catch

The boys did a total of four dives, while Chris and I did two. Our boat only returned with two lobsters. Unfortunately, we were hoping to catch more of the critters we were in search of. However, we were able to buy some more lobsters from the other boats so we wouldn’t return short handed. On top of that we split the catch of lambi and speared fish, which was quite a haul. At the end of the day we had a ton of fun, hangin’ with the local fisherman learning how things are done in the islands.

the happy fishermen

Passage to Grenada, by Chris Conway

Posted on May 17, 2013 by erica

The seas are calm enough for dinner up on deck

We departed Dominica begrudgingly, but knew that there was more to see in the Caribbean and figured we could always stop back on our way north if we had some time in the schedule. We left on a Monday morning with what looked like a perfect weather window. The wind was forecast to be out of the East-North-East at around 20 knots with some higher gusts. The heading to Grenada from Dominica was just west of south so we should experience a 120 degree wind angle which is about as good as it can get in open ocean sailing!

The trip started in light and confused winds as we headed south in the wind shadow of Dominica. Due to the height of the mountains as well as the length of the island, the winds in the first few hours were from every direction and very light. As we approached the southern tip of Dominica, we started to experience the large ENE (East – North – East) swell that was wrapping around the island. The swells were about 6-8 feet in height, but spaced apart enough to just roll the boat around a bit. As we motored on, I saw what looked like a white water river ahead. There was a wall of white caps and larger waves even though we were in only 5 knots of wind. Finally we hit the “river”, which turned out to be the end of the wind shadow from Dominica. Our friends on s/v Anything Goes watched as we went from rolling around in the swells to taking on a modest heel to starboard as the wind filled in. The wind went from 5 knots to 20-25 knots in about a quarter of a mile and off we sped.

After a slow start, we were finally realizing the potential of the forecast as well as enjoying perhaps the fastest point of sail for the boat. We were consistently averaging 8+ knots as we barreled south towards Grenada. As night drew near, we again had a slight lull in the wind as we hit the wind shadow of Martinique, even though we were over 15 miles to leeward of the island. While this slowed us down a bit, it did allow more attention to be paid to the fishing gear. We were rewarded at dusk with two Bonita which I promptly cleaned on the back of the boat (add a stable fish-cleaning table to my list of things I miss.) The Bonita later became one of the kids’ new favorite dishes- fish tacos!

The night brought slightly lighter winds, but given the direction we were still averaging 7-8 knots. By morning, clear of the lee of Martinique, the wind had freshened to 20+ knots again and the boat was absolutely flying! I ended up hand steering for 6+ hours in the morning just because it was so fun. The boat was rolling down the waves hitting over 10 knots consistently and at times over 12 knots on a few of the bigger waves. I enjoyed the morning watch with the kids on deck and some music playing where I demonstrated that you can both dance and steer a 47 foot sailboat in 25 knots of wind at the same time.

As we approached Grenada, we realized that we had run about 200 miles in the past 24 hours. What looked like a daunting passage of 220 miles now turned into a little more than an overnighter. I wish they all could be like this! We arrived in Prickly Bay with plenty of time to check into customs as well as explore the area in the afternoon.