Down The Bay Race 2017, a Multihull Perspective
Let me begin by extending a well-deserved congratulations to Ben Carver and the Entourage crew for Line Honors and their first place finish in the 2017 running of the Down The Bay Race. When the multihull fleet dwindled down to two, Ben asked me if we (OrgaZmatron) would be willing to match race, and so the race was on.
In the week and days leading up to the start, the forecast shifted around a bit and at times showed ideal conditions, which reminded me of the Christmas song, “with visions of Northwesterlies dancing in the air.” But it was not to be. When the front came through Thursday night during the skippers’ meeting at Severn Sailing Association, it was pretty violent. Friday dawned with beautiful conditions and a strong Westerly, which meant a long reach down the Bay. The new forecast predicted the strong Westerly would gradually drop in windspeed, then shift to the south, and then shut down like a light switch. The plan for OrgaZmatron was to pile on the sails and sail on the brink of disaster (within reason) capitalizing on the big air before it shut down.
The multihulls started last at 10:25 a.m., and within about 20 to 30 minutes had rolled the entire fleet. It felt like OrgaZmatron and Entourage were joined by a bungee cord, with each of us trading the lead all the way down the Bay. We both were trucking with OrgaZmatron reaching a top speed of only 22.9 knots, as we whipped down the Bay. Within about an hour we were past the Parabolic antennas and could see the tops of the gas tanks at Calvert Cliffs.
In a previous life as a monohull’er it would usually take hours to get to the same point. We watched time after time as Entourage stuffed the boat burying it underwater with torrents of water flying in the air leaving behind clouds of spray. As we approached the gas dock north of Cove Point the wind really started honking. We estimated 25 to 27 knots, true. Entourage completely stuffed the boat with the stern raising way up out of the water. Ben later said his rudder was three or four feet off the water.
Shortly thereafter they reefed and then double reefed. We definitely were over-powered and outside the baseline safety limits with a full main and a number one. We had shifted as much weight as possible to the starboard side due to conditions. As the winds continued to increase, the tops of the waves started to blow off, creating a low mist over the water. OrgaZmatron had been stuffing the boat quite a bit with a few really good ones and then we had the big one. We buried it deep with both the leeward and main hulls underwater and a good portion of the stern out of the water. I’d been monitoring my internal risk-o-meter considering crew safety first and then boat safety. I’ve always followed the reefing policy that if you think of it then you should have already done it. Having ignored it for too long, much like an automobile’s idiot light, I decided it was time to reef. We had a bit of a cluster during the reefing as the topping lift got half sucked up into the mast and then was all bunched up against the mast at the entry. All this while the first slab was half reefed.
After clearing the topping lift and completing the reef we settled down as we passed the gas dock. Thinking that it would continue to build we hugged the western side trying to keep in flatter water. First error. It didn’t continue to build and actually lightened between Cove Point and the Patuxent River, by which point we had shaken the reef. The boat felt sluggish, and we were trying everything to get more drive with minimal results. Somewhere around the targets we launched the screacher and then started moving and retook the lead. We made another error on the approach to Smith Point and headed a little too high, allowing Entourage to close the gap since they had set their spinnaker again. We had to fall off and lost some boat speed as we approached the mark sometime around 3 p.m.
We thought Entourage might end up with an overlap and potentially mess with us, but we cleared the lighthouse by about 15 or 20 feet in strong opposing current with no overlap. From there we pulled away and ended up approximately a half mile or more ahead, but the boat still felt sluggish. We were trying to do everything we could as we watched as Entourage slowly gained, reeling us in and then rolling us maybe 50 yards to windward somewhere in vicinity Wolf Trap Light.
We were hooting and hollering at each other as they passed, and so far it had been a great day, a great race, and good times. As we watched Entourage open the gap we were at a loss as to why we were not hitting target speeds. It would not be till the next morning that we understood the reason. We approached the final mark at York River “Y1R” around 6 or 7 p.m., with Entourage rounding first and OrgaZmatron, about five to six minutes behind. Per the Race Instructions we called HYC RC to notify them that both Entourage and we were on the final leg towards the finish. The response was funny. We thought maybe we had interrupted someone’s dinner, so we told them we were within two hours of finishing.
Heading toward the finish we were able to stay up heading directly for the line while Entourage went far lower than us. We were perplexed and re-checked the Sailing Instructions to ensure that we weren’t required to honor any additional marks. Entourage was way low, and we figured it must be local knowledge of current or lift, or something. We thought we might cross first. Ben later said they were all nervous thinking the same thing. But as we continued towards the line the wind was really dropping out. Entourage crossed first at 8:55, followed by OrgaZmatron at 9:19. As we finished the wind shut down, and I said, “God help the rest of the fleet.” We later learned that boats had anchored and were still finishing approximately 14 hours behind us.
When we got in to the slip at Hampton YC (HYC), and after tying up I asked, “Clean up the boat or free beer?” The answer was unanimous. We were beat from the strenuous sailing, the grinding, the pounding, and the sun. We had consumed all the water and all the Gatorade, and it was only half a mile from the finish when the second round of beers was cracked. It had been a single tack all the way down the Bay and then two quick hitches 300 yards from the finish. It had been an epic race with conditions that only come around once every decade or so.
Epilogue
After a good night’s sleep at the hotel, we returned to HYC in the morning to clean up the boat. Looking at the boat from the dock it was listing pretty far to port. When I climbed up on the starboard hull, which was out of the water, it didn’t budge. This was highly abnormal. We figured there was some water in the hull, and when we opened the hatch there wasn’t just a little water, but to our surprise the entire compartment was full to the hatch. We saw that the seal was deformed and off the track, but the real issue was that the hinge pins had either been sheared off or forced out during one of the times we stuffed the boat and buried it under water. My hunch was it happened during The Big One. All that was holding the hatch were the dogs, the raising cylinder, and a tiny nub on one end of one hinge. So the water had just been streaming in through a big gap the whole time, and the extra weight killed us. I asked Ian what the volume of the center compartment was, and he said it was one quarter to one third the total displacement of the hull (5600 pounds), which translates to 1400 to1867 extra pounds of water. Bummer! But in hindsight, given that was the worst that happened, we are grateful. No bodily injuries, nothing broken, only some aches and pains.
In the club the previous night, we had talked with the guys on the Farr 400, the first of the monohulls to finish behind us. They reported gusts to 32 knots near the gas docks and also said they broke their backstay with the chute up, recovered, made repairs, and continued. Boy, were they lucky (or most likely skilled).
When asked if we’d do the race again, I thought it was so wonderful that we wouldn’t want to ruin the memory, and that we’d never do it again. But that’s not the case. We’ll do it every time we’re able until we’re either not standing or taking the dirt nap. Again, a well-deserved congratulations to Ben Carver and the crew aboard Entourage: Josh Nealy, Andrew Harris, and Larry Forgy. And of course a big thank you to my crew aboard OrgaZmatron: Cem Karabekir, Karl Liebert, and Kurt Willstatter.
By Josh Colwell
Click here for photos and video of the 2017 DTB start
