Frostbiting v. Florida (& Other Conundrums)

Fly down to the beach? Fly out to the Rockies? Drive up to them thar Catskills? Or, ponder how to sail on a milder day right here in Brooklyn? Plenty of choices.

I wanted to drive up to Belleayre Mountain in the Catskills yesterday. They were forecast to get 4-6 inches of pow overnight with another few possible during the day. I even got the ticket on line and refilled my Ski3 card for direct-to-lift access. But, it wasn’t to be.

IN THAT PIC: screenshot of the summary forecast for Belleayre Mountain in my OpenSnow app, before expanding that below. OpenSnow is a top-tier app for mountain weather predictions. It’s gotten me some epic (Ikonic?) storm chases. Free trial; $30/year thereafter and worth soooo much more.

Yes, they got the goods: 7 inches as of the morning check! But, I didn’t sleep well enough and despite actually getting up at 5:15, went back to bed within 20′ and said F it. Maybe the next day. (Little to no fresh pow would be left, but packed powder all over and no stampede to get to it.)

IN THAT PIC: forecast details expanding on the pic above. This makes it easy to see the timing of things, and the consistency and trend, which determine not just when, but IF you go. This was two days out. Final forecast was for 4-6 overnight and another 1-3 during the day. Actual snowfall as of early Monday morning when they first measured it? 7 inches.

Plus, I was stressed about getting ready to fly down to Florida to visit my partner’s family. Yes; looking forward to it, despite not being much of an FL fan. But, I’d play tennis to help get in shape for snowboarding, maybe cast my fly rod from the beach for practice and, you know… never know what’s right there within casting distance in salt water, where anything can swim anywhere it wants to.

I love the fam, so there’s that. And, I enjoy flying for some reason. But, I have to knock stuff out and get caught up before I go for 5 days and then wind up behind again. So, no. Didn’t take the whole day today to shred groomers.

Usually, when I fly down to the Virgin Islands (BVI) to run Sailing Center trips, it dumps up here upon my departure. Then, when I return, it NUKES and sometimes delays my flight getting back. I miss it and figure I’ve got it coming to me another time. This time around, I missed some storm chasing opportunities in a variety of places not because I’d left, but because I wouldn’t have enough time before my flight south. So it goes…

For this trip, it’s looking very quiet snow wise for the time I’m away plus some more for good measure. Maybe that means what comes later will be bigger and badder. But, if not, what about local sailing?

IN THAT PIC: all quiet on the inlet. View from Sheepshead Bay out into Rockaway Inlet, with the bridge separating that from Jamaica Bay in the background. Saturday morning, December 9. Those are cormorants or loons on top of the mooring ball.

It’s been relatively mild here in NYC. On Saturday, I was dressed in a fleece top and sun hat while doing crankcase and lower unit oil changes on our Carolina Skiff and checking the Tartan Ten on its mooring. By around 2pm, it was just about T-shirt weather for about an hour. Miramar YC was having a whiskey tasting, and allegedly also a pipe pairing. I had to pass as I was driving back to MannyHanny.

Saturday was a great temperature for sailing… but not really enough wind. Dead on the Hudson and NY Harbor; light down in Sheepshead Bay and Rockaway Inlet. There’s almost always more wind there, even when it’s light all around. Four to five more knots and I would have postponed some of the chores and dragged some people out for a sail. But, there will be other opportunities. Always are. (Want in on that? Hit us up to be e-blasted when we see a weather window!)

IN THAT PIC: Some of the swans at the beach that day. There are quite a few more outside the edges of the shot. Two of them were flapping away in tandem – synchronized swatting or something. Did you know they sail? They’ll travel downwind by flaring their wings to provide surface area. Feet steer.

I’m a life member at Hunter Mountain in the Catskills, which is the most well-known of them. My folks bought a house on the Mountain when I was wee. Either it came with life memberships, or there was a promotion so good my Dad was glad to buy for the whole family .Mom? I asked her later in life if shed’ ever tried skiing. “I did it once. That was enough.” Damn…

Dad was really into it, and I went to ski-school and stuff until they sold the house. Then, we maybe did one more trip in Vermont before they pulled the plug and that was it for snowsports for me and I wasn’t quite 10. It wasn’t until after I’d taken up snowboarding 14 years ago that I discovered there were other hills to ski/ride on in the Catskills. I heard of Windham first. A client from the school turned me onto Belleayre during the pandemic. He’d bought season passes for his family as a way to get out and do stuff in fresh air without being too crowded, and they were cheap. The mountain was almost empty and they had semi-private skiing. And, they liked the hill.

I’ve been there twice now; wanted to go more, but I rarely go to the Catskills now as it’s usually better for me to drive the extra 2 hours and be in Vermont. But, I prefer Belleayre to Hunter and Windham. Hunter, especially, has a lot of potential compared to Belleayre. It’s larger, has longer runs, has more tough terrain, and has its truly beginner and expert areas separated from the main mountain. Plus, they expanded the resort into a new area and added an extra high-speed chair in that area for some of the most efficient lap-making one could conceive of.

Yes, but…

Hunter isn’t being run the way it used to be. It’s been sold several times, and now everything kicks up to Vail Resorts. They seem to have bought it for market share in the Epic/Ikon struggle over the skiing Universe. They don’t run as many chairs as often, don’t make as much snow, and don’t open up the new North area or existing West areas to as much capacity as needed. Plus, their new glade in the North area seems to never be open – which it needed badly, as there were essentially none before this. They don’t seem to care.

Belleayre?

IN THAT PIC: the Belleayre trail map. It’s very left & right, like Brighton in Utah. That’s where the comparison begins and ends, but for a small northeast hill, it fights above its weight class with a nice balance of terrain and legit glades. Plus, they seem to put some effort into their terrain park.

It’s state owned/operated like Gore and Whiteface, and there’s some connectivity in pass and ticket sales, including the state’s Ski3 discount card. My take, in no particular order:

  • It’s cheaper. A full price walk-up-to-window ticket with no discounts is $104, and if you purchase as late as the evening before, it’s less. Buy a few days earlier, and it’s much less than that. Plus, they have a frequent skier discount card that’s worth considering if you’re not sure a season pas is worth it.
  • It’s run well! They have their act together and act like they care. (Same for Gore and Whiteface, in my opinion, after one visit to each on my two shots up north to get my COVID shots during the pandemic up in Plattsburgh.)
  • Belleayre seemed to get more trails open earlier than Hunter and Windham this season, and they blow a lot of snow. Plus, they get comparable real snow. (This time, they got significantly more.)
  • They have GLADES! Real ones. If you like trees, you’ll love Dreamcatcher and some others. I went up twice; neither time had there been a dump before I went. Both times, Dreamcatcher was open. And, it had good snow and some of it deep! (It’s one of their double diamonds and it’s the largest of their glades.)
  • Don’t like glades? No problem. They have plenty of groomers for all ability levels. If you’re a true expert, and especially if you’re an extreme terrain skier or rider, Belleayre might leave you feeling flat. But if you’re most things less than that, you should be able to enjoy Belleayre.
  • They have a nice mid-mountain lodge with a great bar and nice views from it. Doesn’t hurt that they have decent coffee.
  • They have a gondola! That means when it’s running, you can usually skip it to cut down on lift lines. Plus, they have one high-speed quad that runs in another area and lets you lap a large portion of the mountain quickly.
  • There’s less hill work on the local roads driving to and from the hill. That’s important in crappy weather.

Caveat: No lodging right on site, however, unlike Hunter and Windham – so, if you’re going to hit it during a real dump or just after, and you have to drive a ways, it might not be the call.

And, back to sailing! What if you want to just sail here in the winter?

Check out “frostbiting.” It’s short course racing in the winter, and there are a number of ways to play. Most of it’s on dinghies: they can flip over and you’re likely to get wet at some point even if you don’t flip. If you’re up for the challenge of dinghy sailing in the winter, game on. Dry-suit time. Unless, of course, you’re racing Dyer Dhows at Mamaroneck Frostbite, where it’s hard to get spray on you and also harder to flip over. But, if you do, you’re getting very wet. So, a dry suit isn’t a bad idea here either.

IN THAT PIC: Dyer Dhows rigged up and ready to..? Not sure if they’re about to drop in or if some cold sailors ran in to warm up. I remember clearing snow off the boats before rigging and splashing back in the day. Pic from Mamaroneck Frostbite Association’s site.

Dyers are NOT self rescuing. Back in the day, the chase boat would come rescue you and drop you off at the committee boat. That was a houseboat with a wood-burning pot-belly oven for heat. Wring out the wet clothes, warm up, and go back out. After bailing out your swamped Dyer, of course. Never again for me. I’d rather get the exhilaration of a fast dinghy, and have a good chance of a “dry capsize” where one jumps up on the rail and never actually gets wet. Most dinghies people race are self bailing, meaning water that gets in goes back out on its own. That includes the Sunfish, which is arguably an inefficient design, but it works – and it’s fun and fairly forgiving. That said, it’s harder to right one when it does flip, but at least it’s self bailing/rescuing. At that point, you might want to brace yourself thusly…

IN THAT PIC: fire (in background) and firewater in front. Whiskey tasting at the Miramar Yacht Club (home port to New York Sailing Center).

Why don’t we “frostbite” on the keelboats from the school? Well, we will! We’re going to go out from time to time this winter when weather allows. But, it has to not be actual frostbiting weather. That means seasonally mild temps and winds. So, it will be fewer and farther between than a typical frostbite racing program, and no racing. Just one, maybe two boats out with a few people having a good time. Fill a flask with the firewater of your choice; just don’t drive afterward.

How to get in on that? Hit us up to be included in an e-blast about it.

Want to do true frostbiting, with the racing and the cold & wind sometimes, and the potential for getting wet? Here are a few places to consider…

Mamaroneck Frostbite: a single-purpose seasonal organization that goes way back. I used to do this from 1979-mid 1980’s. They race Dyer Dhows as do some other clubs in the region. Not surprisingly, they’re in Mamaroneck, NY.

Cedar Point Yacht Club: a year round racing club in Westport CT that encourages newbies as well as seasoned vets. They have a frostbiting program. Details not on their site (at least nowhere I looked), so go to their site to contact them. They race Lasers and RS Aeros.

Centerpoint YC Frostbiting: CPYC is a year-round membership club with a frostbiting program in the ‘off’ season. They’re on Long Island’s North Shore. They race several classes of dinghies: Lasers, Penguins, and JY 15 sloops.

Weather and whether… that’s the continuing conundrum. Just go out and do something.

Old Sea Dogs & New Tricks

Whether learning how to sail a boat, advancing your ski skills, or flying a kite from a board, it’s seldom too late to learn a new trick.

Bucket list: heli skiiing. In my case, snowboarding. It was on the mental list of things I really wanted to do but wasn’t sure about the cost or logistics.

Heli YEAH!!! Our machine approaches to pick up the next group and drop them in the backcountry. We were next. Revelstoke, British Columbia, Canada.

Turns out…

It can be done for just a day, and less expensively than I’d imagined. So, when our trip to Revelstoke, B.C. was fast approaching, and snowfall had been somewhat subpar for awhile, I figured the best way to guarantee pow was to fly to it. And, if there were enough on the resort, maybe I could try my first cliff drop.

So, I booked a private lesson for Sunday, and a heli day two days later so I could rest up in case I needed it. Yup – I needed it. Both: lesson and rest.

I’m pretty experienced, and get out more than most people I know. I was a certified instructor, too. (Lapses if you don’t keep paying dues and doing the occasional continuing education course. Re-ups as soon as some back dues and course are done.) When you’re an instructor, you get paid to TAKE lessons. Not much, but it’s better than paying a LOT to take them. Plus, in a group clinic with other instructors, you are with peers and, in my case, superiors. It pushes one to pick it up and ride with it.

I didn’t take the lesson to work on general skills or techniques. I wanted to have a shot at doing a cliff drop. I had no idea where to go on the mountain to do it, nor where it was reasonable and safe based on conditions. I booked a Level III snowboard instructor who was also Level IV alpine ski. Plus, he knew the mountain intimately. This was my guy! Mike M.

IN THAT PIC: Mike and I are taking a quick break so I can breathe and get a video. It was super cold that day… bad cold snap… but bluebirdy views, and in the afternoon, the sun made all the difference despite the actual air temps. View is from Separate Reality Bowl, Revelstoke. Note the Columbia River at the bottom. That view never gets old, and when it’s obscured, it’s usually amazing low cloud formations that are equally stunning and always a little different.

First thing we did was work on the popping off small natural terrain hits and drops in the trees. Fun; hard; scary in some spots. Mike knew where to find exactly the kinds of terrain that would imitate cliff drops, enabling me to work on the physical skills and let him assess my progress. He also took me through the small terrain park a few times to hit certain ramps without doing the features, as they’re very structured for the purpose.

My progress? Didn’t do no cliffs. So, apparently not so good. But, I did get time in and repetition on similar terrain. One piece had a basically vertical drop, but a perfect runout. I got my head around it due to Mike’s explanations, and also the fact that I’m happy in a half pipe. I did that one just fine, which gave me hope.

Almost more importantly, when we were heading back down through the lower mountain and had some icy groomers to contend with, Mike picked up on something that wasn’t quite right with my edge angles and balance that was costing me heel edge hold. One suggestion and the problem was solved. No, I wasn’t carving heelside on ice on demand, but as close as one could expect. The general idea and specific fix both carry over into riding in general, so that’s a lifelong benefit from a 2 hour cliff lesson with no cliffs!

And, later in the week, I stumbled upon some small cliff drops and did them. One time was perfect. Exactly what Mike had worked on with me. Another time? Lame, but I didn’t get hurt. I found this stuff in the middle of the mountain, in the last place I would have guessed. I know where to go back to warm up for a proper ridge drop into a bowl. When I’m ready…

IN THAT PIC: I did NOT do those cliffs. But I did a fair amount of what you see in this pic, which is a good example of the off-piste terrain variety Revelstoke has to offer. Trees? This is not even getting started however. There are some amazing, world-class glades here, and glades take up a large percentage of the in-bounds terrain.

And, so on to heli! I booked with Selkirk Tangiers Heli. In Revelstoke, there are almost more storefront heli ops than there are coffee shops – and they like coffee. Three of the major players are here plus others: CMH, Eagle Pass, and Selkirk Tangiers. I went with Selkirk as they’re owned by Revelstoke Mountain Resort, have been around for 40 years, and have the largest tenure (exclusive territory) in the area. Solid operation; I’ll be back.

No cliffs for us here – just open alpine and trees. But, those trees were a train wreck half way through and most, if not all, of the 9 person group had trouble with that section. It was so bad I gave up riding out of it and started hiking after radioing the lead guide that I was safe and hoofing it. After a few too many times sinking one leg hip deep, I resorted to laying half on/off the board and doing some combination of kick boarding, surfing paddling, and army crawling which led the tail guide to get me back up using her ski poles. That worked, and gave me enough rest to finish riding out on my own at the end. Whew!

IN THAT PIC: Makunda, our lead guide, on the right and one of the skiers in our group smiling, cuz… why not? Guides have a tremendous responsibility, and it has to be stressful. But the rewards are bountiful untracked powder they get to track first – every time. And, seeing and hearing guests whooping and laughing, and knowing they’re the ones making that happen for them. Kudos! After the first stop on our first run, Selkirk Tangiers Heli, Revelstoke. (Still frame grab from a video.)

More to the point of the post, my tree-buddies for this section. Once we were about to hit the trees, we stopped and the guides explained how we were to ride and ski them: in pairs or threes. We were to call out regularly so if we DIDN’T hear our buddies, we knew to stop and figure out what was going on. I buddied up with two guys who came together who I’d befriended already. They were also snowboarders (as were all but three in our group despite having two ski guides).

And, here’s the fun part. They are both kiteboarders. No, I’m not, but I’m a boardsailor (windsurfer). And, that’s not even the best part.

They each own their own kiteboarding/surfing school in Aruba! They’re competitors – but friends, who go off on snowboarding trips together each winter. How kewl is that!? Plus, they sail. Armando has a lot of time on Hobie cats and we were comparing notes (I have a tiny bit of time on those and a funny story or two.)

Armando and Lysander. Both rocking Jones Mind Expander snowboards they rented from the heli outfit (included in package price). I rode my own Sims Solo, a sick powder board that’s also surprisingly good on groomers and can handle tight trees.

IN THAT PIC: Armando starting to stop at the end of the first section of the first run, on Second Choice. Blower smoke powder – best I’ve experienced, and pretty deep! Boot to knee high, as promised. (Still frame grab from a video.)

We got those two runs in. I was late to lunch but didn’t matter. As we wrapped up, the pilot radiod Makunda to advise that due to poor visibility, the only run we could do next was the same damn one. He announced this to us, saying we could try to stay more to the right and avoid the worst of the bottom half. I said, “If that’s all we can do, I’m bailing out.”

Armando: “I’m bailing too.”

Lysander: “If he’s out, so am I.”

So, I’d started a mini revolt. The whole group had trouble, and not just the snowboarders. At least one skier wound up on his back, head downhill, and had to be helped up and out of his landing by the tail guide. Evian was basically a goddess that day, cleaning up the mess as we all tumbled our way through the variable pitch, irregularly spaced, can’t see around the corner and don’t want to race-track the lead guide’s path like the Baker Banked Slalom terrain. I fell a little too often and got a little too tired. Conditioning is very important for this. While I didn’t expect tight trees and cross-country sections, we got them. I had planned on being in shape, and I’d been trying. But a knee injury had been talking loudly to me, and I’d backed off the intensive stuff and started PT for awhile leading up to the trip. It helped the knee, but cost me the conditioning.

We sat it out. They flew us to another staging area and we eventually spoke with the head guide for the day so he knew where we were at, got feedback, assessed damage control, and made a plan.

The rest of the group opted to do that run again. A good snowboarder in that group reported back: “it was cross country skiing all over again.” Translation: sucked.

IN THAT PIC: looking down at one of the other groups as the Arubans and I are shuttled to another staging area. That group has either just gotten out of the trees at the Lumber Yard run, or are about to drop in again (probably former). Just watching things unfold, and the trees, from the heli was worth a good chunk of the price of admission. (Still frame grab from a video.)

Again, if I were a better rider, and in better shape, I would have managed it. Even at my current level, if I were in much better shape I could have done it better the second time as I knew what to expect. I wouldn’t have relished it. But, the first section of that tree run was actually spectacular, and what one signs on for with heli: great powder, good tree spacing, steep enough to move, and beautiful.

After that 3rd run, visibility hadn’t improved despite a brief tease of extra sun. (It was a powder day, so mixed blessing of extra snow and reduced vis.) They called it and brought us all back early.

And, to their credit, and probably due to my bailing and complaining rightly or wrongly that they shouldn’t have taken us on that run in the first place (and certainly not again), they refunded everyone’s money for not just the missed 4th run, but also the 3rd that most of us took. That was excellent management of the situation. I bought some merch. The Arubans? Tried to apply the refund to a 2-day heli trip later in the week! And, they got the trip. Great time; 4 runs each day and tiring.

IN THAT CLIP: a bunch of kiteboarders are at it during one of our learn to sail lessons out of Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn. Where there’s steady wind, one finds windsurfing and kiteboarding. We see plenty of both – as well as dolphins!

So, back to sailing… or kiteboarding! I’ve been interested in this for awhile. We keep seeing it on our Virgin Islands trips. On one trip, a younger client and I came damn close to booking our first lessons at Bitter End Yacht Club on Virgin Gorda. We had the time. It was just too damned expensive; not a fair deal in our opinions. Then, the back to back hurricanes that fall which ended it. They destroyed much of the Virgin Island, and obliterated the areas around Bitter End. A lot of it’s been built back, but a fair amount didn’t survive or rebuild. Hundreds of charter yachts were destroyed, and the repercussions of that were many, including consistently and vastly higher trip charter fees going forward.

Anywho, there’s plenty of kiteboarding around the Caribbean basin, and in the Virgin Islands (including our favorite Island, Anegada).

IN THAT PIC: kiteboarders literally at the edge of the entrance to Sheepshead Bay. That’s the Marine Park (Gil Hodges) Bridge in the background.

And, there’s regular kiteboarding right next to the Sailing Center in Brooklyn! Plumb Beach, part of the Gateway National Recreation Area, is almost adjacent to Sheepshead Bay and a few minutes sail away. There’s wind here, so there’s boardsailing and kiteboarding. We see it all the time. I won’t try it here for the fist time, however. I’ve got a standing invitation to Aruba, and I’ll learn from my tree buddies. As soon as I can squeeze it in without interrupting powder chasing!

CLICK TO BLOW UP! View from off the top of the Stoke Chair – the one that goes closest to the peak. Stunning views on almost any day, and endless terrain variety from here as well as off the gondolas and the Ripper Chair below the North Bowl. Hard to go wrong; hard to decide!

Want more info about learning to sail, cruise or navigate with us? Start here…

Want more about kiteboarding and surfing in Aruba? Check these guys out… Armando’s school and Lysander’s school in that order:

https://kitesurfingaruba.com/

https://www.arubakitesurf.com/our-team/

Want to check out Revelstoke? Here’s the mountain resort’s link, which is a great start…

https://www.revelstokemountainresort.com/

And, here’s a link to Selkirk Tangiers Heli…

Turn Initiation: it’s not just for Skis and Snowboards anymore…

As we’re deep in the throes of a cold start to the winter – polar vortex/arctic blast kind of cold – thoughts are somewhat removed from sailing.  But not entirely.

While on the slopes enjoying fresh pow over the holidays, and warming back up to techniques shelved during the boating season, I was reminded of the concept of turn initiation.  Don’t ski or ride?  Don’t even sail yet?   No problem – we’ll break it all down and maybe even get you stoked in the process.

Looks like this rider either tried an abrupt start or ending her last turn that way. Wasn’t there; can’t be sure. But it looks like she made a zig-zag of quick pivot turns in a that are on the right in pic. Her edge and bottom of board are a brake right now. Good if she wanted to stop quickly. How does that translate to the rudder of a sailboat? Read on…

“Turn initiation” is the technique used to get a ski or snowboard to go from flat on the snow to beginning a turn to one side.  Anyone who can link turns on either kind of plank knows what I’m talking about.  It’s like this: we make certain motions to suggest to the equipment that we want to turn instead of going straight.  After it starts listening, we add more motion to shape and complete the turn to the extent we want.  Regardless of what kind of turn we make, we have to start it – and eventually end it.

Same with boats!  Techniques, and consequences for ignoring them, are different.  Thankfully for sailing, there are usual no real consequences.

If you ski or ride, but are beginner to intermediate, it’s time to think about this again as you begin your snow sliding season.   You experts out there don’t think much about it, but warm up your technique and self-critique as you get your form back each season.

These guys are about to go down a moderately steep trail at Killington in Vermont. Skiers have two planks. Duh. Translation to sailing? Twin rudders that can operate independently. Kewl!

Back to sailing and turning a boat.  Let’s leave special techniques like steering with sails, and with body weight, out of it and focus on the thing we all use all of the time: the rudder.  (Don’t even sail yet?  That’s the fin that we turn back in forth behind the boat to make the boat turn, like a paddle stuck in the water and angled to one side.  Makes the boat turn.)

At the most basic level, we angle the rudder to one side or the other when we want to turn a boat.  Some boats have a stick attached called a tiller, found on smaller boats and almost mandatory to learn with.  Once the boat is in the upper 20-foot range, and especially at around 30 feet, it tends to have a wheel instead.  As the rudder is angled more to one side, the pressure of the water hitting it pushes it back the other way, taking that end of the boat with it.  The boat pivots in the middle, and turns.  (The direction the fin aims is also where it want to go once it gets moving.)

So, to make a slight or narrow turn, the rudder does not need to angle much to the side.  To make a sharp or tight turn, the rudder needs to move pretty far over.   Turn initiation is really the rate of motion to get it started, so that the whole process works better.

On a board or skis, if we suddenly wrench the plank over to the side, we often catch an edge in the snow and catapult or slam.  No fun.  But if we get the edge to gently start engaging, and then add more edge and pressure, we can smoothly get the plank on its edge and into a turn.  Can’t usually skip steps: have to START the turn before shaping and completing it, before ending it.

I haven’t skied since I as a boy, but I’ve watched a lot of skiers.  Good skiers are graceful in their transitions.  I’m a pretty solid boarder – somewhere in the advanced range by objective standards I’ve come across. I’ve watched a lot of boarders too.  I won’t pretend I know how to turn skis.  But Im supposed to be expert at understanding how to turn a board, as I’m a certified instructor.  So, I’ll talk about boards.

“I PISS on snowboards and boarders!” That you?  That’s fine. We’ll just shred around you and share the slopes with others.

For most turns on a snowboard – and some experts say all – we initiate by twisting the front of the board slightly so one edge is pressing into the snow and the other starting to lift.  Think of holding the ends of an ice cream stick with your thumbs and forefingers.  Now, think of holding one end level, but rotating or twisting the other end slightly.  That’s the general idea.  In the air, this does nothing but flex the stick.  But on snow, one edge of that stick presses into the snow, and starts to take the rest with it to that side.

Of course, we add some at the other end, and make more of a turn.  And, release.  And, rinse and repeat, maybe mixing it up from time to time to not get bored.

How do we translate this to turning a sailboat?

Think of the rudder as the edge.  initiation is turning the rudder ever so slightly to suggest to the boat that it should stop going straight, and to pivot.  Once it listens, we gradually increase the rate of turn but angling the rudder more.  But at what rate?  And how far?

This is the beautiful part, elegant in its simplicity.

We slowly, steadily, move the tiller to the side.  One simple, steady motion.  Easy.  How far?  Until we like how much the boat is turning.  For how long?  Until we’re half way through the turn, at which point we reverse the motion at exactly the same rate.

What if we need the turn to happen quickly?  Well, there is no shortcut here unless we’re throwing the boat around with our body weight, and/or using sails to help turn the boat.  Again, let’s leave it at rudder only for this discussion.  (And even when we’re using other techniques, rudder action doesn’t change.)

Too many sailors just jam the rudder over hard when they want to make a quick and/or large turn, especially for tacking (crossing through the wind quickly and ‘catching’ it again on the other side).  Jamming it over skips the initiation.  Consequences?

Drag.  The rudder is now sideways to the water, creating lots braking resistance.  Imagine gliding along in a canoe or kayak, and suddenly jamming the paddle in the water off the back end, with the flat side perpendicular to the direction of travel.  Sea brakes!  Craft slows down.  Think of air brakes on a plane.  Overuse them at the wrong time, and the plane starts to drop.

Stalling.  Because it’s angled too aggressively to the flow of water, the water doesn’t flow around the far side of the rudder, and and bottlenecks against the near side.   Water flow around the rudder allows the rudder to take the back end of the boat with it in an arcing turn, and therefore makes the front go the other way, pivoting around the middle.  Stall the flow, and we stall the turn.  (This also increases “leeway,” both when turning and when trying to go straight, for those with more sailing savvy.  It’s why excessive rudder angle has to be dealt with one way or another when going straight.)

Sorry, only one color still had ink… On your left: outline of a sailboat and its rudder, shown twice – straight, and also cocked slightly to port (left). The curved lines and arrows show how the water would flow over it on both sides and allow good turn initiation. On your right: severe rudder angle typical of many sailors when they make a large turn, especially to tack (cross through the wind quickly). Arrows and squiggly lines show turbulence with little to no water flow.  This is what happens if you simply jam the tiller over.  What a drag…

It’s slightly counter-intuitive at first.  “I want to turn hard, so why not just turn the tiller/wheel hard?”  Doesn’t work that way.  You’ll get there sooner by starting slower.  A slow, steady, linear motion of the tiller (or wheel) gives you everything you need:

  1. Turn initiaiton.  Suggests to the boat what you want to do, and it gently begins.
  2. Shaping.  We turn the rudder enough to get the turn shape/speed we want.
  3. Completion.  So simple – half way through the arc of the turn, we just reverse what we did with the rudder at the same steady rate!

The tiller moves in a linear fashion, but the boat turns in a crescendo/decrescendo.  See?  We’re teaching to both logical learners and musical/rhythmic ones!   If we graph it out, we’ll see different patterns for the tiller and the boat…

On your left: graph of what the tiller motion is like – linear in speed.  On your right: the effect this has on both rudder angle and boat’s turn shape: good turn initiation, shaping, and completion. WooHOOO!

The more rudder angle, the greater the turn.  To get there, we simply move the tiller steadily to gradually increase rudder angle, and therefore the rate of turn.  Your boat will take over, and the rudder will follow.  When you feel that, you’ll know you got it right.

Then, you’ll be ready to shred!

Want to learn more about turning a sailboat?  See us at NY Sailing Center in the spring.  We start in April.

Want to learn how to snowboard?  Already ride, but want to improve or take it to the next level?  Our Director, Dockmaster and rambling Editor at Large, Captain Card, is a certified snowboard instructor who loves to teach.  Hit him up to discuss getting out on snow.  This can be as close as Mountain Creek, NJ (an hour from the GWB), as far as South/Central Vermont, or mid way at Hunter or Windham in the Castkills.