2016 DH Farallones-Not for the Faint of Heart

After a two hour delay we finally got going. The ebb in the middle was going to be a little bit less advantageous than if we started on time but our plan was still to try to play the middle of the bridge and entrance before making our run to the islands. There was a little bit of a pile up at the pin end of the line as everyone seemed to want to be out. We were in perfect position to box everyone out. Ray was right above us and he had some contact with Wetsu but we were able to sail to leeward with good boat speed and fairly clean air. Ray was over the top of us and when he tacked onto port out into the middle that cleared the way for us to do the same. It was El Raton, Abigail, Motorcycle Irene, and Ergo on port headed towards Sausalito, with the rest following suit.

As we got about two-thirds of the way to the North Tower we were looking to tack back out into the middle. Irene had already gone back onto starboard to clear his air and we followed suit. El Raton punched it all the way in under the North Tower. We did a few tacks in the middle and were now crossing through the gate. To our surprise, Will got underneath the South Tower and easily crossed us on port tack but we both put a real hurting on El Raton. We basically tried to play the middle the entire way out the entrance. As we got out, Will started hugging the Marin Headlands and staying further inside. We couldn’t quite figure that out as we thought the current was bad inside. We traded tacks with El Raton in the middle and were now both nearing the Headlands. We got really headed and decided our plan was to work back out more towards the left/middle side of the course so we split with Ray. We felt this paid huge for us as they looked to be in light air. We put in one more tack back to the right side as we approached an adverse current line well before Mile Rock. We knew the breeze would be coming up so we had started the race with the three strapped down on the fore deck (as did El Raton) and now did a quick sail change from the one down to the three, tacked back to starboard, and were ready to beat towards the islands. Ray was to starboard of us and Will was much further inside up by Point Bonita. Ray hoisted his three directly after us and a few minutes later we saw Will doing a bare headed change. My Dad always says, “It’s better to do the sail change when you can, than when you have too,” and our timing was perfect.

The breeze was building probably to about 15-18 knots and as we approached the Light Bucket it was maybe in that 18-20 knot range or more. The boat was going well, we were sailing right along with Ray and Will to the North of us. As we got a few miles North of the Light Bucket the breeze really started to build into the 20+ range on a consistent basis and I could no longer find Motorcycle Irene to the North of us? We found out later that he broke his forestay. Thankfully everyone was okay. Our competition was Ray and Steve on El Raton, parallel and to the North of us. We had sort of left the rest of the fleet behind and had no reference on any other Expresses. Some of the larger boats with reefed mains started to go through us as the extra weight was a huge benefit in these conditions. At this point, we started seeing wiser men than us turn around and head back for safety.

The breeze continued to build! I would say when we were about 8-10 miles or so from the islands we noticed Ray had started to crack off a little bit more. He clearly had better boat speed than us and started to roll over us. There really wasn’t a whole lot we could do. He had done a phenomenal job of putting himself North out the Gate. (He did the same thing last year) As the breeze built further, to the 22-28 knot range, we eased the jib slightly to help us push through the seas and try to keep boat speed with Ray and Steve. As we footed off we felt like we were keeping pace but they had to be a half mile ahead of us now. We continued on the starboard board all the way to the islands.

Ray sailed up underneath to the South of the islands and then put in a tack underneath to get back to the North side. We sailed up to his lay line and followed suit. The conditions had freshened to an extreme. I would say it was consistently 25-30 knots with gusts in the 35-40 knot range. I was driving and it took me two attempts to tack the boat back to starboard (I am a little embarrassed about that lol but that’s just how it was out there). As we sailed on port, the islands did not provide the protection in sea state and breeze that we had hoped for. It was still full on. Mas, a Moore 24 directly in front of us, lost their life raft, which was an ominous site to see given the conditions.

Ray well over-stood what you would think to be a normal lay line before tacking back to starboard to make his rounding. You just could not point per normal given the breeze. The two Moore 24s near us followed his line and we tried to cut it a tad bit sooner to make up some ground. Ray was leading, the two Moore 24s, and then us. I got a little bit un-easy and made my Dad put in one more hitch out away from the islands. We probably would have made it but I wanted to play it safe as putting yourself in sticky situation in these conditions just didn’t seem to be worth the risk. This definitely hurt us and probably gave away any chance we had at catching El Raton down wind. Such is life.

We tacked back to starboard and were now rounding the islands. You know how usually when you turn down wind and your apparent wind decreases significantly? Yea, well, it still felt like it was blowing like crazy! We were two sail reaching with the three up and the wind forward of the beam. There was no chance of setting the kite. Normally we set behind the islands, douse, get back to the North and then re-set. There was no chance of that today. Now that we were somewhat flat, we started pumping all the water out from the interior of the boat and were on our way.

My Dad wanted me to drive about 75 degrees but when I looked back at the islands this made no sense to me. I knew we were not sailing high enough. We had to get further North if we were going to get over to Marin upon our entrance. We bickered about it a little bit as we flew along at 7-12 knots with speeds as high as 16-18 knots. It was breath taking speed with water everywhere and the Express 27 showing you why it loves the big breeze. Catching a big wave on a 25-30 knot puff and using our big rudder to stuff it down as you accelerate has got to be one of the greatest adrenaline rushes out there. Absolutely phenomenal stuff! For the first time ever, I buried the bow once or twice only to see her pop out and accelerate like a 505 skipping along down wind.

Finally, my Dad admitted that our compasses were off. We calculated by as much as 20-30 degrees. They are brand new and were dialed in incorrectly. Luckily I had sort of been ignoring him and working up to the North when I could as he was down below warming up and drying out a little. After an hour or so having the time of my life sailing the Express like an overpowered Laser he took over and I went down below to warm up and try to find some dry gear. We keep all the seats and wood on our boat (cough cough to some other owners) so it was much more comfortable down below even though we had about six inches of new water filling the bilge again and spray dripping in consistently.

About 20 minutes after I stripped down it was BAM! We had been hit by an enormous blast of breeze and rounded up. I was more or less standing vertical on the leeward seat staring up through the windward window as our rig was just being thrashed and the sails/rig shook extremely violently. Definitely a little bit scary but when you are out in the Ocean you don’t think like that, you just keep pushing. I tried finding anything I had dry to put back on and sure enough I was being yelled at to come back up as these conditions were a two man job.

We were now flying in the channel with ship after ship and even a cruise ship going by us every 20 minutes or so. We were close reaching to stay up above Ocean Beach. We got our good radio out to monitor speeds as we were cold and wet but having an absolute blast. Consistently hitting 14-16 kts over the ground as the sun started to set and darkness was upon us.

As we started to get into the entrance our main concern was finding Mile Rock. Oh, there it is, where is the flashing light? Oh well, we are good. Five minutes later….oh crap, there’s Mile Rock. We had to harden up a touch to get around it but it was no big deal (FYI NO LIGHT). There was quite a bit of ebb here, as we expected, and we needed to get inside near Baker Beach for relief. We found relief but did not go all the way in because the wind was not backing, as it normally does. We did not want to have to beat up to get around the South Tower. As we got closer to the bridge we got some great right to left relief to push us around the Tower. The breeze was starting to back off and it was probably only blowing 8-12 knots now.

We were absolutely exhausted and my Dad had a pretty severe finger injury that had torn back open. We had lost Ray and I did not have the halyard tied onto to the spinny. We said screw it, lets’ just two sail it to the line and go home. We gybed onto starboard to get inside on the city front and ride the flood relief to the line. It was ripping in our favor. In only 5-8 knots of breeze (maybe more/less, my mind had been re-conditioned at this point) we gybed back out to get around Anita Rock and then back one more time for our trajectory towards the finish. We finished around 830PM I think.

We tip our hats off to Ray Lotto and Steve Carroll on El Raton for showing why they are still the killer combo to beat in the Ocean. We thought we were the last boat to round the islands but heard Matt Krogstad and Daniel on Tequila Mockingbird at the 9 PM check in as we sailed back to the CYC. Congrats to them for sticking it out and finishing. To add insult to injury, the wind completely shut off at Little Harding and we had to put the engine on to get home lol. When we got to the dock, we literally tied the sails to the boat with sail ties and headed home. We had left it all out on the water!

For perspective on the breeze, at 750 PM the Light Bucket recorded a one minute maximum wind velocity of 29.4 knots and another weather service I checked showed the Farallones as having wind velocity of 35 knots and 27 avg at 2 PM, 39 knots and 30 avg at 5 PM, and 41 knots with a 33 avg at 8 PM.

Thanks to the race committee and all the other boats, especially the Express 27s and Moore 24s, that tried to make the trek. The next day I was extremely sore. I felt like I had just squatted for the first time in three months but had a real sense of accomplishment. You buoy race the Express for competition, day sail it for fun, and go in the ocean for the challenge. We own the best boat on the face of the Earth and I will certainly remember this race for many years to come. What an experience.

Oliver Kell Abigail Morgan 18394