A tricky crossing and challenging weather conditions
We leave Kinsale by sailing along the South-East coast of Ireland with Fastnet on portside. Here begins the long crossing of the Irish Sea and the Channel to reach Aber Wrac’h on the Britanny headland where there is a course mark we have to respect. The last lap of the race takes us through the Channel Islands and once we have negotiated the tricky passage of Raz Blanchard, we reach the finish line in Cherbourg.
The weather is autumnal; the anticyclone in the Azores is starting to subside, the depressions and the fronts that accompany them start to sweep through North Europe. We can expect a rainy warm front with a W SW wind until Fastnet followed by an active cold front that will pass over us in the Irish Sea during the night bringing us NW winds of between 25 and 35 knots and which will last for 24 hours.
Organisation of the start of the Solitaire
The principle of starting a race is as follows: the start line has to be anchored, delimited by a Committee boat and a buoy with a sighting device. The racing committee launches a procedure of 8 mn at the end of which we must have crossed the start line. That day the wind was SW as predicted and the breeze was coming in rapidly. Those among you who have experienced the start of a crew regatta will know just how tense this moment is. The boats cross within centimeters of each other while trying to concentrate on their own priorities. The stronger the wind, the trickier the maneuvers and is both exhilarating and stressful at the same time. Because the Figarists are so intent on an excellent start, the race committee has to launch two general recalls and renew the procedure and all the while, the wind is getting stronger and the pressure is rising. During the third procedure the inevitable happens. Two boats run into each other at more than 7 knots: a loud bang on the water, yelling, fear, a leaking stem for one and a shattered chain-plate for the other. Impossible to go out to sea for three days in these conditions so the Solitaire waits in Kinsale for these competitors to be ready.
As you can imagine, the next procedure was very cautious… and finally the Committee boat announces « good luck to you all ! ».
Tacking through the « mizzle »
These typical SW winds of warm fronts are always accompanied by rain, in the form of an incessant drizzle, which is great for Irish gardens. The air is warm and humid; visibility is low. We navigate in these conditions in the 44 miles separating us from the Fastnet which we reach around midnight. When approaching the lighthouse we hear its fog horn but can hardly see its light even though it is more than 50 metres high. We wind around the rock keeping a safe distance as it is impossible in the night and this drizzle to perceive the distances correctly; it’s a very strange moment and characteristic of all the numerous stories about the Fastnet and those lucky people who have wound around it.
The breeze spinnaker
Once we pass the lighthouse, we launch our spinnakers in a wind of 20 knots swinging to the W. During the lighthouse passage, the fleet is held at less than 2 miles and we have to hold the Spinnaker in a very strong breeze all night with no visibility. The boat rapidly surfs the forming waves that are crossed by a SW swell. Scary but a lot of fun, all the Solitaires are going to be stuck at the helm all night and all the next day: no rest in sight.
A stylistic device and I am left behind
I want to change and lower the front sail under my Spi because the strong winds that are already announcing their presence mean the boat has to be perfectly balanced. I test the drive of the boat under pilot and when satisfied undertake the maneuver. I quickly take of the genny and put it away, the wind is already at 23 knots. I get the Solent out and, attached to the lifeline, make my way to the bow. The moment I hook the tack of the Solent, I feel the boat swing suddenly to counterheel, the mainsail jibing violently, the Spi swings to the other tack, the boat keels over forcing the spinnaker boom into the water. As luck would have it the downhaul pullies break before the boom does… my Solent falls in the water held only by a snap hook to the front of the boat. The boat is down, in around 30 knots… the Spi wraps itself around the boom and the lift and and cracks above the water… as for me, I am still at the bow in the lines where I am experiencing the Irish sea at 13 degrees.
I feel so cross with myself at this moment to have made this move as I know the fleet will be sailing at an average of 12-13 knots while my boat is lying flat in the middle of the night and to get the boat working again will probably take me at least an hour, if not two. I won’t even mention the fact that physically the efforts I now need to make and the stress are going to wear me out…
I take the time to put everything back in place and restart the boat after having tidied/repaired/checked everything … no question of relaunching the Spi without controlling the paths of the sheets, the halyards … with a wind this strong another mistake could be dangerous.
This takes me around 1h30 and when I relaunch the breeze spinnaker, I can’t see any lights of the other competitors on the sea… my friends have all gone, obviously. The classifications at 5 a.m. in the morning show I am 16 miles behind the leader … I’m a long way behind …
Navigation in the Solitaire
Given that I now know I’m not going to catch up with the other competitors, my mode of functioning takes another turn: I decide to simply enjoy the navigation in the Solitaire now that the challenges of the race are over for me… I must admit that usually I can’t do this as it is the contact at sea with the other competitors that motivates my passion.
At this moment I have approximately 300 miles to go for Cherbourg, more than 36 hours. I modify the rhythm aboard and allow myself more time to concentrate on managing the boat and the skipper. I eat and sleep regularly, take time to analyse each stage of the navigation, watch the nautical ballet of the dolphins that come to say hello. At night I study the stars … and realize that after many open sea races I have never actually done this….
I enjoy this last leg of navigation and savour every minute on the water, the Solitaire will be over soon…
Summary of the Race
This is my fourth participation in La Solitaire du Figaro, and it has been the most fabulous. I have met a number of difficulties throughout the event but it made me test myself in situations that I would never had imagined in everyday life: to go that much further, to know myself better.
The ambiance with the skippers has been fantastic throughout the event which proves without a doubt the solidarity that exists between seamen. The welcome I received from my competitors was absolutely magic….
Well, there we go, end of the race reports and back to everyday life. I hope my brief dialogues have given you a taste of what life is all about in open sea racing. For my part, this is the first time I have been able to share this passion…. COOL!
Bye for now !
Didier