Tag: sailboat

RULES: made to be broken?

A former “sea lawyer” goes back to school to revisit the rules for how to sail a boat on a race course.

A very long time ago, I got my hands on the USYRU Appeals Book. It was a short/wide 3-ring binder. In it was the “case law” for the rules of sailboat racing.

I don’t remember how I got it. But, I remember where I opened and started reading it: in a Burger King somewhere in Midtown-East. That makes me wonder if I picked it up at the New York Yacht Club in the 40’s, where the YRALIS had a small “front desk” thing going on.

Anywho, I remember getting grub and going to the downstairs seating area. I ate, and went through the right-of-way section. I started highlighting those appeals that mattered: the ones that dealt with the less obvious “what ifs” of sailboat racing. For all the good it might do…

In that pic: copy of the rule book, two editions ago. It came in the mail as part of my US Sailing membership although I wasn’t racing at the time.

Did I become a “sea lawyer?” No. Not in the generally understood sense of the term. That would mean I was always getting into it with other racers, yelling, threatening, protesting, etc, etc. That wasn’t me. I just wanted to understand the rules and be able to race within them. Sure, that meant having the occasional tactical advantage, and sometimes enforcing it by speaking up on the race course, but always better to avoid tiff and just sail the race.

The idea was to steer clear of trouble, not look for it.

The basics of the racing rules are, basically, like those that apply to everyone else. One is a common sense rule: don’t hit shit from behind. That leaves two other basic rules:

  1. A boat with the wind coming over its starboard (right) side has right of way over the opposite (wind coming over port side). When “steam” (power) driven vessels emerged, the equivalent was that when crossing, the one on the right had right of way. Then, cars came along and, well… same.
  2. When two boats both have the wind coming over the same side, the leeward (downwind) boat has right of way.

But, racing is more complicated. We deliberately cram ourselves into tight quarters and turns, often at speed, and have to deal with the mess when we converge. So, the details are tricky.

In that pic: tight mark rounding at the Finn Masters Worlds, Torbole, Italia (sailing on Lago di Garda), 2016. The Finn was the Olympic singlehanded dinghy for many Olympiads. Had a great run. Despite it being dropped, with the Laser remaining for lighter sailors, the Finn is resilient and sees large numbers of boats at regattas – for “masters” as well as the younger set. It’s a heavyweight brute, and arguably the hardest boat to sail in the world. Berit Hainoja, photo.

The appeals help sort out some of these situations for racers. It starts with a protest, when one boat calls out another over an alleged foul on the race course. If the protested boat doesn’t agree and do penalty turns, there’s a protest hearing after the day’s racing. If the loser of the appeal isn’t satisfied, they can appeal it. The race committee for the event organizes an appeals committee..

If THAT doesn’t go their way, and they want to keep it real, they can further appeal it. Ultimately, for America, US Sailing (formerly United States Yacht Racing Union, and before that, North American Yacht Racing Union) is the Supreme Court of sailboat racing. World Sailing is the global Supreme Court.

One appeal in particular always stood out for me. It dealt with mark roundings. Most sailboat racing involves crossing a specified starting line, turning around specified marks, and crossing a finish line (often the same as the start). When boats meet at those marks, the rules get tricky.

Without worrying about all those rounding rules, we’ll just talk about one principle: room at the mark, or “mark room.” Sometimes, one boat has to give room to another to round the mark, or go first. Everyone who races is at least vaguely aware of how that works.

When a good chunk of the fleet arrives at a mark roughly at the same time, it’s chaotic. Boats that are denied room at the mark have to keep clear. There might be nowhere to go! Sometimes, however, a boat that’s ahead and doesn’t have to give room makes a bad rounding or turn. That can leave room that wasn’t intended. What’s a boat to do?

If you’re coming in from behind, you can take advantage of “room given in error” (formerly, room “freely” given). So, if you get to the right place at the wrong time, but another boat struggles and swings wide, it’s fine to swoop into the gap and round the mark inside of the other boat and wind up ahead.

In my racing experience, going back to the 1980’s, this concept goes beyond being misunderstood. Most people never heard of it. It was the case then; it’s still the case now.

In that pic: BUSC, 2024 – the inaugural Brooklyn Urban Sunfish Championship, hosted by Sebago Canoe Club in Canarsie. I had to miss that one due to teaching commitments. Here, all but two of the boats shown are sailing downwind. Two have rounded a mark that must be out of the pic, and are heading back upwind. The Race Committee boat is anchored mid photo. When it’s not a required turning mark, boats passing it can treat it as an obstruction and potentially get room from competitors to do so. Not so when it’s a starting or finish mark, which it is for every race. Photog unkown.

Back when I was frostbiting in Dyer Dhow dinghies, this came up once. Bud MacIntyre (might be misspelling his name) was a nice guy in the fleet. He was ahead of me as we approached a jibe mark, which is when sailing diagonally downwind, a boat has to execute a “jibe” turn to get around the mark and on course towards the next one further downwind. The course change was typically 60-90 degrees. Jibing means crossing through the wind ass-backwards, when the winds is from behind the boat, and the sails cross over.

I was behind and slightly to the mark side of Bud. I didn’t qualify for “room at the mark.” But, Bud was a big boy. Barely fit in that little boat. He got tangled up and swung wide of the mark, slowly and painfully. He knew I was there and said “don’t go in.” Several times, I think. I don’t remember if I said anything, much less what it was.

(I do know what I’d say now: “Try and stop me!”)

Anywho, Bud swung way wide and gave me more than wee room. I took it and went inside of him at the mark. There was no contact, and he couldn’t shut me out much less round the mark well. He couldn’t have hit me if he tried. (If he could, and did, I’d have to do penalty turns or risk being protested and disqualified.) Of course, he protested. There was a hearing. He said I didn’t have room at the mark but went in anyway. I said he swung way wide and left a ton of room, and couldn’t defend the hole by hitting me if he’d tried, and that I was entitled by the appeal (case law) to take advantage of room freely given.

Despite the facts not being in question, and the appeal ruling being clear, they disqualified me – even though there wasn’t any contact. For that low-level of Sunday afternoon frostbite racing, that was silly. But, it’s what’s done, and why it’s best to avoid protests and hearings if at all possible. The people who decide it are on the spot, and usually not up to the task -which is a thankless one, really, when everyone is out playing together and then some have to referee a squabble. No good comes of it.

In that pic: that clump of red isn’t a bloody hanky – it’s a bleedin’ protest flag! This sailor is protesting another boat (or more). The flag must be hoisted or otherwise brandished as soon as practically possible. Upon finish, or as soon as possible thereafter, this sailor would have fully informed the race committee of the protest (which boat/boats he’s protesting). Finn Masters Worlds again (Berit Hainoja, photo).

Fast forward many decades. A client and friend of the school, who took some cruising classes with us and joined the Club, was racing a boat in the Virgin Islands. There’s a series where one can charter a boat and participate. He was protested and disqualified in a race, and asked me what I thought.

The details were different, but the concept was the same: room was given and he took advantage of it. When his competitor lost ground to him based on losing the boat-to-boat duel, said competitor got pissy and protested. Loser.

Unfortunately, he became a winner (at least compared to my buddy) because he won the protest. My buddy got a DSQ. He asked me to look it all over and give my thoughts. I did; and that required revisiting the racing rules.

The rules have changed a lot since I was regularly active in racing. They were simplified; oversimplified, if you ask me. (BTW: check out the YouTube channel “Oversimplified” for quick, cartoon-art videos that whittle down historical events to bite sized chunks. Super entertaining.)

It’s much easier if something is added; WAY harder to deal with simplification or subtraction. So, there was that: get acclimated to the new rules. Truth: I’d been racing again, starting in ‘23, and had NOT learned the rule changes. So, I figured that until I did, I’d avoid trouble. If in doubt, turn away from the other boat. I really should have re-learned the rules properly before I got on the race course, but it was super friendly club racing and I could get away with it.

So, I re-learned the rules more or less. Then, I re-visited my buddy’s situation. My original conclusion had been that he was in the right: he’d taken advantage of room given in error/freely. I also found a new rule that went even more in our direction: when a right of way boat alters course, they must initially allow room for the other boat to keep clear. This is more limiting on the right-of-way boat, and should also have helped his case, which was…

In that pic: diagram that Alex drew for the appeal he lodged after being disqualified from a race. He’s #7, far right in diagram.

He was sailing toward the starting line, specifically the anchored committee boat. Ahead of him was the competitor in question. (This was a fleet race; no other boats were close or relevant to this sequence so they’re not shown.) Let’s call them boat A (asshole) and boat B (buddy). Boat A hovered head to wind (pointing directly at the wind) motionless or nearly so. He was blocking the route Boat B would take, to pass directly downwind/behind the committee boat and then head up toward the wind to cross the line and start.

(nb: in the diagram above, “A” is #8 and “B” is #7.)

Something would have to give: Boat A would have to turn away from the wind at some point and actually sail if he were to cross the line and proceed toward the first mark. But, if he didn’t do so before Boat B arrived, B would have to dip below/behind A and hope to make up the lost ground with better speed. (When approaching a starting mark, the windward boat almost never has rights to room at the mark.)

Boat A, predictably, headed away from the wind to accelerate and cross the starting line. That left a lot of room for Boat B to sail in between him and the RC boat. He did. They both crossed the starting line (between RC boat and a mark way to the left, forming the starting line). Some seconds went by. Then, Boat A decided to alter course by heading up toward both the wind and Boat B. Boat B headed up too, as A was entitled to do that – but up to a point:

  1. Can’t go beyond “head to wind,” or you’re “tacking,” and lose all rights to a boat “on a tack;” or, at least that’s what it used to be…
  2. Under new rules, must initially allow the give-way boat room to keep clear. A did; B had time to keep clear at first, and did so, but stopped short of crossing head to wind. Had B done that, he would also be forced into the committee boat or its anchor. Therefore, A wasn’t entitled to force B past that point.
  3. Room freely given was almost not even relevant, but would force a competent race committee to ignore that complaint from boat A, which is what it protested about: A claimed B was “barging,” or trying to force its way in between boat A and the starting mark (which it’s not allowed to do). Barging isn’t a rule and isn’t mentioned in the rules, but it’s the common name for the situation. Rule that out, and one can then focus on the rules at hand (limits on altering course).

Boat A went beyond “head to wind,” and Boat B didn’t. A hit B lightly; no real damage. But, contact means both boats must retire (quit), or one must do penalty turns, or either/both must protest. If there’s contact, at least one must be disqualified after the hearing. (No contact? No requirement for a boat to be tossed from the race, although that’s the way it usually goes.)

My buddy in Boat B was DSQ’d as I wrote. Based on my opinion, he decided to appeal. But, he wasn’t able to get a written copy of the Race Committee’s decision and the appeal committee decided against him largely on that basis. (Reasonable, although unreasonable and odd that the RC didn’t supply the decision. Maybe they didn’t want to deal and/or be seen as correcting their own mistake, as RC and Appeals Committee might have overlapped.)

After I’d given him my initial opinion, I also asked for that of key members at Sebago Canoe Club where I race dinghies. Some of them race a lot, and travel to regattas both in the US and abroad. One guy (the most traveled) got back to me. He thought that Boat B was “barging” and didn’t have rights – which is exactly what everyone always thinks, and what the Race Committee thought as well.

I read the rules. I found the appeals. One source of help for that was Dave Perry. Look him up; he was a top racer back in his day and has been considered the pre-eminent rules expert for a long time. He’s the guy for US Sailing as far as rules are concerned. My Da and I saw him give a talk on racing back in the late ‘80’s somewhere in Connecticut, probably hosted by North U (North Sails’ educational arm). Nice guy. Well, I emailed US Sailing about the appeals; trying to find them in general and this one in particular. Dave and another fellow both got back to me.

Dave and I share a few things in common: we’re male members of the species, we’ve both lived in Connecticut, and we both raced Lasers and Solings. We’re both good at the rules (me in the past, and playing catch-up now; Dave always). The main difference is in the success level. According to North U:

While at Yale (1973-77) he was captain of the National Championship Team in 1975, and was voted All-American in 1975 and 1977. Other racing accomplishments include: 1st, 1978 Tasar North Americans; 5th, 1979 Laser Worlds; 1st, 1982, 2006, 2008, 2011 and 2015 U.S. Match Racing Championship (POW); 1st, 1983 and 1984 Congressional Cup; and 1st, 1994, 1999 and 2003 Ideal 18 North American Championship.

Dave also campaigned a Soling at the top tier, vying for but falling short of an Olympic berth.

Me? Largely learned to sail on Solings; raced them at the lowest, weakest level that existed; crewed for someone at a Soling East Coast championships once (zero tactical responsibility on my part and zero fucks given by the skipper for my opinion on anything); raced Lasers with some success at the District level (NYC/Long Island). Got back into Lasers two years ago; everyone considers me “fast.” Haven’t sailed a proper race in one yet since resuming (did so with Sunfish and Vanguard 15’s and, again, “fast,” and occasional moments of brilliance balanced by blunders and mediocrity in a low level fleet).

Dave spent some time getting acquainted with and helping me via email; I very much appreciated that. He put me onto the appeal I needed as well. It’s not the one I remember, but maybe I don’t remember it well. They do delete some and add others, so it’s possible the old one is simply gone and replaced by a “better” one. The concept is exactly the same, and it is in fact settled “case law.”

The net/net: here are the two appeals that apply to this particular race start.

First: Case 146 from World Sailing’s Case Book (Appeals). This one establishes that once a leeward boat (downwind, or to downwind side) lets a windward boat (opposite) in between itself and a starting mark, it can’t whine about it later. It also can’t force the windward boat into that mark. Normally, leeward has rights over windward, and can alter course toward it and make windward move. This is one of the exceptions those rights. The Case goes on to explain that “barging” isn’t a rule or discussed in the rules, and is only an issue when a windward boat forces its way in between a leeward boat and a mark. No force? No foul…

And now, the US Sailing Appeal on room given in error… Appeal #5, all the way from 1950!

Appeal #5 is where it’s at. One of the older appeals; still as unknown today as it was back in my day. It’s the concept of room freely given (now room given in error). One takes a risk trying to take advantage of it, but if an “attacking” boat assesses the course well, and the boat being attacked – and not required to give room – is unable to do anything about it, for any reason, it’s fine to take that room. Common sense, IMHO. Yet, all anyone can think of is “barging.”

B-Buddy (real name Alex) decided that it was a very interesting learning experience and let it lay. He really didn’t have much choice. On the race course, one can usually make this choice: get into it with competitors, or just avoid rule confrontations. Sail faster and smarter, and enjoy playing by trying to win a sailboat race. Stay out of the courtroom. Leave that to the “sea lawyers.“

”Some of my best friends are lawyers.” In fact, my two best friends ever are lawyers. I’ve lost touch with one sadly (he moved to Asia). The other is right here and we still argue about whether his wife and he saw a large barracuda, or a small shark, on one of our Virgin Island trips. He knows all the lawyer/shark jokes.

Here’s one, told by the one I lost touch with. short version (want the long version? Post a comment in reply to this, and I’ll post the whole joke for ya!).

Why do sharks never attack any lawyers they find from shipwrecks?

Professional courtesy.

And, speaking of actual sharks, here’s a story relayed by a lawyer about a lawyer: https://www.drewcochranlaw.com/2019/08/06/lawyer-bitten-by-shark-and-other-jokes-that-write-themselves/

Plus: when looking up these lawyer jokes, came across this interesting piece on, of all things, a body-shop web site/blog: https://www.fenderbender.com/running-a-shop/operations/article/33021856/lawyer-jokes

Racing Rules, from World Sailing, 2025-2028 edition: https://www.sailing.org/inside-world-sailing/rules-regulations/racingrules/

US Sailing Appeals (red-lined edition): https://www.ussailing.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/Appeals-Book-2017-2020-Section-3-red-lined-edition-December-21-2020.pdf

Olympics Day: on How Many Boats Did I Play?

Our Director reminisces about Olympic sailing class boats he’s raced, and how it helps teach you how to sail and learn to sail better.

Laser dinghy, stand-up style! On Lake Garda, Italy: from Gregorio Moreschi’s Instagram.

I’ve been at this for awhile. I started sailing as a small boy aboard whatever my parents were on, and sometimes boats that just my Dad and I were aboard. We were both relative latecomers to one thing: sailing dinghies. He started WAYYY late, and I started somewhat late (at 15). Some of my fondest memories are of the two of us on separate Dyer Dhows in the Mamaroneck Frostbiting Association winter series. I sailed ‘Dyer Straits;’ he joined the next season on ‘Apocalypse Dhow.’ We had mixed race records, with a modest rate of success (i.e, staying in A Division and taking home some plaques and platter) But we hands-down had the best punny names for our Dyers.

But, I digress. Apparently, yesterday was Olympics Day! I figured it out on my Insta feed. I’ve followed Olympic sailing to some degree for decades. While I never competed at the national or world level, I did compete to one degree or another in three different Olympic classes:

  • Laser
  • Soling
  • Star

Sadly, I can’t find a single photo of me in any of those boats. There’s a great shot of me sitting on the rail of my capsized Laser in between races off City Island one day. In between races, one could sail by the committee boat and ask for a can of Coke. I flipped my boat so I could just relax with my feet on the daggerboard sipping my soda while others wasted energy sailing around for no reason. I won the regatta that day. I lost the photo. But, temporarily; it’s somewhere in family photo records.

Late 1970’s; a Soling converted for sailing instruction. This was when our family owned and operated New York Sailing School. We installed custom bench seats on two of the boats to make instruction and day sailing a little easier. Harsh boat otherwise, but oh, boy – did it sail! Almost all schools eventually switched to more student-friendly designs that were more effective for instruction. Almost. (We ditched them in the early 80’s for this purpose and never looked back.)

The Soling came first, as it was the teaching boat used at our family’s first sailing school (NYSS, or New York Sailing School). Dad sold that school in the winter of 86/87, and I started mine in the fall of 1997 with classes underway in the spring of ’98.

The Soling is a truly elegant, pedigree little yacht. 27 feet of purity and grace and zero creature comforts. It’s a racing machine, straight up. Yet, it’s fun to day sail and a surprisingly good teaching boat. However, the lack of seating, lifelines, etc and the wet nature of the boat really interfered with instruction and learning. So, when Dad found a better alternative, he took that tack away from the fleet of other schools.

I mostly raced Solings at the school. We had a Tuesday night series in the summer. No, not really very competitive – but still, super instructive as it was repetitive short-course racing with tight starting lines and put a premium on tactics and boat handling. And, we used spinnakers. My favorite was a solid black chute with a stark white steer skull in the middle.

Relatively recent action on a Soling: only the skipper stays on or in the boat on a windy day! Not just a venerable Olympic class, the Soling was heavily used by adult sailing school programs across the country if not the world.

The highest level I raced a Soling? The East Coast Championships one fall out of Stamford Connecticut. I was crewing, not skippering. Perennial class champ Hans Fogh of Canada was the skipper to beat that time. We didn’t. Windy couple of days; I spent much of it hiked out over the side in the manner shown in the photo above.

The Soling was an Olympic class for quite awhile. Two veteran American racers who did well in Solings were Dave Perry and John Kostecki; Perry also excelled in the Laser. One of the best sailboat racers in history, Robert Scheidt of Brasil, won 5 Olympic medals combined in the Laser and the Star: 2 gold, 2 silver, and a bronze. Only man to win Olympic medals in both dinghy and keelboat classes. Hmmmmm….

1972 Olympic Gold Medalists: Australian style! Star Class.

Then came the Star. The Stuyvesant Yacht Club on City Island, which was around from the late 1800’s, had a nice fleet of these sloops stored on trailers which they dry sailed by lowering and hoisting on a dedicated lift. I was invited to crew on a couple of occasions for Sunday afternoon racing. We had light winds, so it wasn’t too exciting – but it was fun and tactical. No spinnaker, so easier to shift gears on shifting winds in an instant and focus the whole time and tactics and strategy.

Star white room; typical recent scene for this low-riding, wet and athletic class that has seriously withstood the test of time.

The Star was in the Olympics for some time. It was the 2-person keelboat. One crew hikes over the side when needed; both sailors need to be decently sized to hold that boat down. It’s work. While no longer in the Olympics, the boat is still super competitive and used in series including the Bacardi Cup in Miami and the Star Sailors League Invitational regatta. Dennis Conner of America’s Cup fame was a world champion in the Star before he got involved in the Cup.

Next: the Laser, which came later to the Olympics but was already one of the world’s most widely sailed boats and is now the most. It’s a singlehanded performance dinghy with one sail (cat boat or uni rig), with three choices of sail size.

Olympic medalist Anna Tunnicliffe, from Steven Lippman’s shoot in ESPN’s In the Buff series. Note the cuts; this is an athletic boat to sail competitively.

I started sailing these in the early 1980’s and raced them for a few years in the NYC/Long Island district of the Laser Class Association. I also qualified for the Empire State Games once and drove my Laser atop my Pontiac Ventura Hatchback up to Syracuse. I was only about 118 pounds soaking wet, and raced a full rig – but as we’re in a light wind region here, I got away with it. The one time I actually won a regatta saw 15-20 with some higher gusts, but some of the better racers in that district didn’t attend. But, I sailed hard and beat larger sailors. First race: chose not to jibe on the screaming reach to the jibe mark. I did a ‘chicken jibe:’ I lowered the board, spun around in a tack, and continued. The guy I was basically fighting the whole day for 1st place? He kept it real and jibed. He flipped. I won the regatta by a hair and his capsize spelled the difference.

Medals in the Laser Class, District 8 (NYC/Long Island). From back in the day when our Director actively raced the world’s most popular sailboat. It’s still in the Olympics despite recent challenges by upstart imitator classes.

So, sailing on some Olympic classes paid off. First, it made me a better sailor. Second, it made me better understand how boats relate to teaching beginners and intermediates. Our family started teaching on the Olympic Soling in 1968. Since then, we’ve used three more designs for teaching beginners, in this order:

  • J/24, in late 70’s (immediately abandoned and returned to Solings)
  • Sonar in 1980 or thereabouts, continuing until NYSS sold;
  • Beneteau First 21 with my new school in 1998

I could have gone out and bought a fleet of Solings, Sonars, or especially J/24’s to make a cheap fleet. You get what you pay for. Spare parts for our Beneteau First 21 sloops typically exceed the purchase price of a cheap used J/24 and often that of a Sonar. I leave that for the multitudes of other schools that don’t know or don’t care.

Our Beneteau First 21 sloops have an enviable distinction: they’re the only sailboat design ever endorsed by a national sailing school organization such as ASA or US Sailing. The First 21 is the same boat as the Beneteau 22 and the ASA First 22. What’s the only difference between them? The ASA First 22 had a longer cockpit and smaller cabin. It’s the same exact hull, keel, twin rudders, mast, etc. The only real difference is the cockpit to cabin ratio. The Beneteau models have plenty of room already, so no problem there. Guess we got it right in 1998!

Here’s a couple sailing one back to our moorings on a windy day. This couple has a fair amount of experience: both raced J/24’s in NY Harbor; both sailed J/105’s. He did a Transatlantic! Also grew up cruising Maine. She did two levels of ASA courses in NY Harbor as well as an offshore delivery from Florida to New York.

Guess which Club they belong to now, and what their current favorite boat is? It’s ours – what many European sailors call the Baby Ben…

“At NY Sailing Center, we know a thing or two because we’ve sailed scores of boats, not just a few… including 3 Olympic classes.”

Captain Stephen Glenn Card, Director and HBIC (Head Bozo in Charge).

A Folkboat Joins the Fleet

We tried her out last weekend, and liked her… so we got her.  Say hello to the newest acquisition in our fleet…

folkboat-and-cc
“Silent Reach,” our International Folkboat.   To the left is a C&C 34.  Very good – but very different – boat.

We’ve seen these boats around for a few years – and by around, we mean the world.  Or at least the hemisphere.  But these boats get around, literally and figuratively.  “Silent Reach” was built in Sweden by the preeminent manufacturer of this class, Marieholm.  We first saw them in the British Virgin Islands (BVI) at Biras Creek Resort.  Then, back at the ranch on City Island, we saw the very one you see pictured above and learned what they were.  And now she’s ours.

So, what’s the deal with Folkboats?

  • Born of a design contest in Sweden in the 1940’s
  • Over 5,000 have been built (prolific)
  • Over 4,000 are probably still sailing (whoah)
  • They started out as wood but became fiberglass in 60’s and onward
  • Traditional design with full keel
  • Point very well and are super seaworthy (circumnavigation-so)
  • Popular all over

We sailed Silent Reach on a light wind weekend day with some motorboat chop.  The wind was a little stronger when we were rigging, so we used the working (small) jib.  Despite the smaller sailplan in light wind, and a dirty bottom, the boat pointed well, sailed fairly fast, and was maneuverable for a full keel design.

The next time out, after closing on her, we had more wind.  So what did we do?  We used the larger jib (genoa)!  This is one stiff boat.  Yet, she’s lively and fun to sail.  Can’t wait to see her true pedigree when we clean her bottom.

International Folkboats are also known as Swedish Folkboats.  They’re popular in Scandinavia of course, but they get around the world.  We’ve seen references to a Transatlantic and a circumnavigation so far.  That means these are ocean-capable boats, yet, they are fun on inland waters too for both daysailing and pocket cruising.  The previous owner of Silent Reach sailed her to Block Island a few times.

Here’s a sister ship with the same color cabin top/deck and similar hull color (Silent Reach was the same red originally but had recently been repainted professionally)…

follkboat-sister-swedish-red
A Marieholm Folkboat, apparently in Sweden, that’s basically identical to ours. (This one sports a dodger over the companionway.)

The one above is sailing with its working jib.  Here’s one under genoa:

folkboat-blue-genoa
This one appears to be in a race, almost at the layline for the next mark. She’s spinnaker equipped so might be about to pop the chute.

The boats were originally wood with wooden spars (masts and booms). The Marieholm ones that are prevalent are all glass outside except for the tiller.  This makes them lower on maintenance yet still appearing quite traditional.  The interiors have a lot of wood.

Engines could be inboard or outboard apparently.  Ours is o/b.  They were designed to have the engine in a well in the transom (see the hatch under the tiller in the shot above).  Some put them on the transom too, as shown with the red sister ship further up.

What will we use her for?  The sheer joy of sailing.  She’ll predominately be a daysailer.  She can be overnighted as well, although space is a little tight belowdecks.  Ours has an Origo 2-burner stove and a porta potti. Nothing fancy, but with the V-berth and two settees, there are places to sleep.  And being very stable, she won’t rock around as much as a lighter fin-keel design.

folkboat-blueprint
Plan of the International Folkboat. Elegant, traditional design.

Despite being a more classic design with traditional transom and full keel, there are performance elements to the Folkboat.  Note the fractional rig. The boats have adjustable backstays, for crying out loud!  Plus, sliding gooseneck for the ultimate in shaping ability, and a cunningham for tweaking that shape.  Large mainsails with manageable headsail choices make for performance and ease of handling.

“Silent Reach” will be available to our graduates (and well qualified outsiders) to rent as well as to our Sailing Club members.  Come see, and sail, an example of sailing history that won’t go out of style!

Two articles on Folkboats…

Good Old Boat (The Folkboat: Little Beauty with a Big Heart)

Yachting World (‘Did you sail that thing here?’ – solo across the Atlantic in a Folkboat)

“A school has no name…”

…or is it no location?  Or too many, so a school is confused about where it is?

Do two (or three) wrongs make a right (location)?

Wonder what percentage of you get the GoT reference of this post’s title. (If you don’t get GoT, let us know and we’ll bring you up to speed.)

Hint…

GoT final scene
Wings over water – on sailboats and soaring dragons. Final scene of season six finale, Game of Thrones.

WTF am I talking about?  Sailing schools who are geographically challenged and are either so confused they don’t know where they are – or want you to be so you sign up for their school at one of their dubious digs.

Example: a school is named after a geographic location.  An island.  They had to move from that island to a neighboring state.  They still reference teaching at that original island in their blurb on the ASA School’s page. But a girl has to cross a river to get to them.  (oops; there’s another GOT reference…)

Another example: a school has three locations, none far from the others (and all in our state).  One moved across the bay it’s located in.  Map page still shows it where it isn’t.  At least it’s the right bay.   One is entirely new.  It’s listed on the ASA page as being in a particular Bay, where they say the sailing is Great.  But a school is not in this bay.  It is in another, far away, and the sailing is not in this tiny bay.  A school sails in an inlet on an ocean. (And a school cannot hide from that ocean’s swells.)

What do we care?  We like good old fashioned, straight up honest advertising.  Plus, we’re very proud of our location.  It’s extremely accessible from so many places, both by public transit and car.  The area is insanely good for teaching sailing and just enjoying a day sail or a cruise.

Some schools have multiple locations.  Some locations have multiple schools.  Tiny little City Island, barely a mile and a half long, has historically been home to two sailing schools – sometimes just one, and for a time, three.  Plus, it has two college sailing teams.  Both those universities have campuses on Manhattan.  But, they sail out of City Island.  Finally – we have three yacht clubs on the Island and the vast majority of their members’ toys are sailboats.

We have had opportunities to add a satellite location at the “bay on the ocean,” on the Hudson, etc.  We have always declined.  Not worth having a location slightly more convenient to Manhattanites, or to spread ourselves around hoping to capture another demographic, just to take clients’ money and give them a piss-poor education and experience that, if they even learn properly from, they’ll soon outgrow.

A school has an ethic.

Watch Live Feeds of Olympic Sailing in Rio

Live footage begins today on NBC…

http://www.nbcolympics.com/live-stream-schedule/sailing

Today, at noon, we have Laser racing.  Awesome little boat that is one of the most important classes in the history of the sport.  Well worth checking this out, and also sailing one yourself at some point.  Most America’s Cup skippers in recent history were winners in Lasers at some point.

The Dockmaster's collection of Laser racing awards
The Dockmaster’s collection of Laser racing awards

The medals above are NOT from the Olympics.  They are from the local/regional level in Long Island Sound/NYC.  But they are so kewl.  That’s the boat as profiled on each medallion.  Check out the live coverage or recaps as the Rio Olympiad rolls along and you’ll see why this boat rules.

Thanks, Bruce Kirby, for designing it.

Design Review: Beneteau First 21.0

We recently came across this review of our learn-to-sail boat, the Beneteau First 21.0.  It’s sometimes called the First 210.  Many Europeans call it the Baby Ben.

Beneteau First 21.0 sloop sailing fast upwind.
One of our Beneteau First 21.0 sloops at New York Sailing Center.

It’s the smallest sailboat made by the largest (and oldest) sailboat manufacturer in the world.  It’s two and a half editions, or generations, or models old depending on how one defines that.  Started with the First 21.0; became the First 20.  (Boat didn’t shrink.)  Then, Beneteau and ASA (American Sailing Association) teamed up to produce a slightly modified version – that’s the “half” to which I refer – called the ASA Trainer or First 22.  (Again, the boat didn’t grow.)  The chief difference on this one is that they made a smaller cabin and larger cockpit.

asa first 22 pair
A pair of ASA First 22 sloops duking it out somewhere. Note sail number: “20,” same on both, leftover from Beneteau’s standard production model – the First 20.  They’re all the same size boat.

But, all versions have these things in common:

  • Hull.  (Boat body)  The size and shape are the same.
  • Keel.  (The fin that stops the boat from going sideways and from flipping over.)
  • Rudders.  (Steering fins.)  Yes, plural.  There are two.
  • Rig.  The spars (poles that hold the sails up, out, etc), and basic sailplan, are the same except for the squared-off top of the mainsail on the newer boats.

Bob Perry, a highly esteemed naval architect and author, with a regular column on design in Sailing magazine, penned this article some time ago. Here are his words, and some pics we saw fit to slip in…

Perry on Design: the Beneteau First 21.0.

(Bob’s prose appears below in quotes.  Any editorial notes I couldn’t resist are indented in parentheses as I’ve done here.)

“Let’s go small and look at a trailerable boat. This one is from the board of Group Finot and built by Beneteau. It is a very different approach, abandoning tradition and going after speed and convenience with modern design features.

ben blueprint
ABOVE: Blueprint of the Beneteau First 21.0, showing the swing keel in both extremes of its range. This is a ‘high aspect’ design: the sails and the keel (foils) are tall up and down, and short fore and aft.

“The benefit of this type of boat is the ability to move easily to exotic or semi-exotic locations for regattas. The 210 will make a great daysailer or a camp-style cruiser. While trailerable sailboats are seldom examples of refined design, the First 210 shows design innovation aimed at sparkling performance and eye appeal. This boat is also unsinkable.

ben trailer
Keel fully retracted, a First 21.0 on its trailer and ready to roll.

“With an LOA of 21 feet, the First 210 shows a modern, round bilge hull form with a very broad transom to give it dinghylike proportions. Look carefully at the plan view, deck layout or interior. Note the location of maximum beam. In most modern designs the maximum beam is located at or around station six. If you use the same system of establishing stations and break the 210’s DWL into 10 segments, you will find the max beam around station nine! There is even a curious little hook in the deck line right at station nine. The result of this shape is extreme maximization of the small volume available in 21 feet and a wide platform aft to optimize the righting moment effect of crew weight.

(We’ve always called this boat a big dinghy with a keel on it.  A dinghy is a sailboat that can flip over and requires the crew’s weight on the rail to hold it down.  The Beneteau First 21.0 is very sensitive to crew weight, and reacts immediately to changes – but it won’t flip over if the crew fails to react.  That makes it ideal for learning and training.)

ben 20 birdseye
Bird’s eye of the Beneteau First 20 plan. Note how wide the back, or transom, of the boat is and also the twin rudders on the back. All this is the same configuration as the First 21.0.

“The extremely high-aspect-ratio centerboard (ed. note: it’s a ballasted swing keel, not a centerboard or centerboard keel) is housed in an odd shaped nacelle below the hull for a board-up draft of 2 feet, 3 inches. Almost every appendage is a candidate for “ellipticalization” these days, and I find it interesting that the designers have ended this board in a sharp point. In profile, the rudder looks ridiculously small until you realize that there are in fact two rudders. They are canted outboard at 15 degrees. With this extreme distribution of beam aft a normal rudder would pull almost clear of the water at high degrees of heel. With the two rudders, when the boat is heeled one of the rudders will still be at an effective working angle with the water. This is a slick way of reducing the required draft of the rudders. Note that the draft of the twin rudders is the same as the draft of the board housing. The rudders are linked through the member at the top of the open transom.

ben 20 sailing
A First 20 in fine form upwind. Note the rudder barely touching the water. The other one is all the way in and fairly straight, meaning it works well. When a sailboat leans to the side, its rudder loses some effectiveness and this twin rudder design reduces that.

(The design was great by itself, but what puts it over the top is the twin rudders.  Sailboats lean to the side naturally, as shown in the pic above. The more they lean, however, the less effective their rudder (steering fin) becomes.  It loses its bite on the water, so it has to be held to one side to go straight.  This creates drag and further reduces its effectiveness.  But the twin rudders on the First 21.0, each one angled outward, become straight when the boat heels a normal amount, and when the boat heels too much, the rudder angle isn’t bad. This makes for a forgiving feel that allows students to learn from mistakes rather than be confused or overwhelmed by them.  And that makes them better able to sail any boat afterward.)

“There are no overhangs on this little packet. The bow profile shows a hint of concavity to allow some flare into the forward sections. There is also a tiny amount of tumblehome in the midsection with a moderate BWL.

“The shrouds are taken to the deck edge allowing a small jib to be sheeted inside. The mainsheet sheets to a single attachment point on the cockpit sole. All halyards lead aft to jammers within easy reach of the helm. The spar is deck stepped with a hinged step. The interior is a one piece GRP molding with small sink and one burner stove. The portable head is under the V-berth. The small interior space is divided by a trunk that carries that top of the swing keel. A hinged leaf table is attached to this trunk. The four berths are all adult sized.

“On deck, the swim ladder and outboard bracket fit neatly between the twin rudders. The two cockpit lockers contain a space specifically for the outboard fuel tank. The bubblelike desk is striking and set off by a varnished mahogany toerail.

asa first 22 1 boat 1 couple
Closer view of the newer ASA First 22. Larger cockpit, smaller cabin, and Stars n Stripes graphics are the key differences between the original First 21.0 and this version.

“The First 210 appears to combine careful styling with performance and safety. The general approach to this design is similar to the Mini-Transatlantic Class, but the boat is not as radical in proportions as a true mini-transat racer. Beneteau’s tooling of molded parts is as good as any in the business and their approach to finish and style is perhaps the best in the business. These aspects combine to ensure that the little 210 will be a standout.”

(“Mini-transat” refers to the Mini 6.5 class boat: 6.5 meters, basically the same as the first 21.0.  It’s a serious racer.  How serious?  They are raced singlehanded across the Atlantic – with spinnaker.  No shit. They have twin rudders like the Beneteaus.  This class is also raced doublehanded for some regattas.)

ben b & w spinn
Black & white is so timeless! Here’s a great shot of the First 21.0 flying along while flying a kite (spinnaker). Note the simple, spacious cockpit, balancing well with the open deck space making it easy to go forward to moor, anchor, rig a non-furling jib (which is best for learning to sail), etc.

We love this boat, and while they’re fewer and farther between, and much more expensive to buy than the boats more commonly used in sailing schools (J-24’s and Sonars come to mind), they’re worth it as they just work better for teaching.

“Don’t take our word for it!”  Everyone says they have the best boat.  But this is the only design ever endorsed for sailing instruction by a national sail training or sailing school organization such as ASA or US Sailing.

Here are a couple of related links…

Clipper Race: story from one of our students who did it.

We previously reported on the tragic death of two sailors in the current, ongoing Clipper Race. This long, multi-stage race around the world is unique. It’s one-design racing with a fleet of a dozen 70-foot sailing yachts. They look a little like scaled up versions of our 21-foot Beneteau sloops, but most of what they have in common with our little guys is twin rudders.

Most serious distance ocean racing events use boats with twin rudders, including the Mini-Transat, with 6.5 meter boats singlehanded across the Atlantic! However, almost all other boats use a single rudder. Twin rudders are best for these long races, and also best for learning. (For more on how that works, and why ASA decided that the twin-rudder design we’ve been using since 1998 was their idea of the ultimate learning machine, see more on our web site.)

The fleet has departed Seattle, having completed a grueling leg from China, and is en route to New York by way of the Panama Canal.

A student from our school, Fabio Peixoto, sailed in a prior Clipper race. We asked if he’d share his experience and perspective, and here’s what he had to say…

“The Clipper race is considered the longest sailing race around the world. It is not only that, but it is also the only sailing race around the world open to amateurs! Everyone in the boat is a paying passenger, except the skipper. This feature makes it a very unique race and it gives the opportunity to amateur sailors like me to have an experience as close as possible to the Volvo ocean race.

The Clipper race stops in many ports, including New York City. When I learned about it I decided to check. This was back in 2010. I contacted them through their website and had a face-to-face interview with the sailing director when the boats arrived. The interview went well; I think they just want to make sure the candidate is not insane, and I decided to go ahead and book my first few training sessions.

Everyone can sign up for the race, from complete novice to Olympian sailors and everyone has to go through the same training process; a 4 level training session, around 32 days total. You can split the sessions anyway you want. I did the first 2 levels in 2 weeks in November 2010. The third session was in April 2011 and the 4th session in June. The race started on July 31st, 2011.

The training happens in the Solent, south of England. It is very professional, intense training. The instructors are old race skippers or new ones in training. We go out in any condition – no wind or gale force wind. We should because during the race we will have to face whatever Mother Nature throws at us. A lot of novices who sign up with romantic views of sailing give up after the first level. Sailing is wonderful, but it has its rough patches. But most people who are sailors know what to expect and have a great time! It is awesome to train in those big, racing boats under any condition. You feel like a professional!

I signed up for the first half of the race. It would be a little over 4 months of racing, from July 31st to December 13th 2011. We started in Portsmouth, England and had our first stop in Madeira Island. Then we stopped in Rio de Janeiro, Cape Town, Geraldton, Australia, Tuaranga, New Zealand and Gold Coast, Australia, where it was my last stop. The race continued to China, crossed the Pacific to San Francisco, crossed the Panama canal, and sailed to New York, before crossing the Atlantic again and finishing in England. The complete race takes one year. Half the boat is booked for circumnavigators and half to leggers.

I can tell you that the race was an amazing experience! I have nothing but praise to the Clipper race! It is a very well run race, and they are very professional. I have sailed through squalls, gales and storm force winds. I have also seen amazing marine life, two lunar rainbows and, I believe, a green flash. I highly recommend the race to sailors who want to gain offshore experience. Offshore sailing is one of the last true adventures in the world!

The current Clipper race is their 20th edition. There have been many injuries before, including during my race. It is inevitable given the conditions that we sail; broken ribs, broken legs, concussion, etc. However they have never had a fatality in all those years. Unfortunately it seems they ran out of luck; there has been already two deaths in this race. Coincidence or not, in the same boat, Ichor Coal.

The first casualty happened right on the beginning of the race, on their way to Rio. It is still not clear the reason, but it seems that right after a reefing procedure, Andrew Ashman was hit by the main sheet or the boom and fell unconscious. They tried to resuscitate him in vain. The boat was diverted to Porto in Portugal to drop off the body.

This was the first death in 20 years and the conditions seemed to indicate an unfortunate causality. However, on April 1st 2016 another sailor on the same boat, Sarah Young, fell overboard in the Pacific during rough conditions. She was not tethered when a big wave washed her overboard. After one hour of searching, she was found. Unfortunately she had already died of hypothermia and/or drowning. Due to the distance to land, a decision was made to have a sea burial.

The first death seemed to be an unfortunate case but the second one shocked me. Specially because I went almost overboard in very rough seas in the Southern ocean. It was 2 AM and we were going through a gale with gust to 60 knots. I had just finished driving for one hour when the skipper took over. I was sitting next to him and then I decided to go down in the cabin to have some water. As soon as I unclipped to go under the traveler, a huge wave hit the boat. I felt this very strong water pushing on my back. My left hand was holding the binnacle and I wasn’t letting it go for nothing! The only thing I was thinking was “F****, I am not clipped in!” Fortunately I was able to hold myself and the only damage was a little bleeding on my nose from hitting the skipper’s leg and a bit of a twist to the binnacle frame. If I went overboard at 2 AM under those conditions, it would be very hard to find me. And even if they’ve found me, bringing me back into the boat with that sea state would be extremely difficult!

Even after these two tragedies, I still have trust in the Clipper race. Their training program is excellent and there is a big focus on safety! We are reminded of clipping-in all the time, not only during training, but also during the race. Andrew’s death seems to have been bad luck, but Sarah’s could have been prevented if she was tethered to the boat. I do not know if it was her fault of if she was in the process of changing jack lines, like in my situation in the Southern ocean. I just know that accidents happen, especially in extreme sports like offshore racing. I hope that the rest of the race goes smoothly and I wish the best to all racers! There is no adventure without risks.

Fabio Peixoto