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September 29th, 2008 in Monday Morning Tactician.
I made it back on the water this weekend on Long Island Sound racing aboard Rima2 a Reichel/Pugh 55 based out of Stamford, CT. Having spent some time on boats of that size, I certainly knew what to expect, but in reality it was one of the first times I had been given total responsibility for tactical decisions and no more. Not having to worry about helming thanks to owner John Brim, and not having to worry about navigation and timing thanks to Ed Cesare and Molly Baxter, I was able to just put my head into the tactical challenge of getting a boat faster than the rest of the fleet through slower traffic.
The 55-footer was slightly bigger and better equipped than most of the boats in our class, so we spent much of the weekend racing against the clock, which is certainly a concept I’m not all that accustomed to. Getting off the starting line very well twice and clearing nicely in the third race, I was quite pleased with the fact that we got the boat pointed in the direction we planned to go each of the three first beats. The difficult part of racing is then to get the crew and the boat re-focused on getting into the speed groove, minimizing the number of turns, and staying out of traffic as much as possible so that we could maximize our time spent at full-speed. In one-design racing, tactical decision-making is so often focused on positioning and boat to boat interaction. Both of those ideas balanced with a focus on boatspeed make one-design racing the multifaceted sport that we love. IRC and PHRF racing is an entirely different animal where ratings become such a large part of the mentality that it can be hard to switch the rounded tactical mindset into one centered on positioning the boat in places where it’s speed can be maximized. It took me a few legs to realize that was the biggest factor.
The breeze was light as we headed out and quickly built to about fifteen knots ahead of forecasted rain. Unfortunately, the boat’s mast was tuned for the forecasted range of 4-8 knots and in the first couple races I think we were slightly slow because of the complacency to stay with that setting instead of hurrying to fix it. Regardless, we got off the line well in the first race, pulled out to leeward of the group, tacked, crossed and centered up on the racecourse ultimately making a commitment to fewer tacks and the upper right side of the racecourse. Unsure of the layline capabilities of the boat, I let Ed call the first couple laylines and tried my best to confirm his calls. A small left in the last few hundred yards to the mark really left us pinching into the first top mark. We sailed the starboard tack header down the run and ultimately gybed a bit shy of the port tack layline and had to sail deeper than optimal for the last bit of that leg as well. We corrected the mistake for the next lap, but overall had great boathandling from the group allowing me to make calls through the traffic of the other two fleets and finish very close to the next two boats on time. I learned very quickly how sailing those less-than-optimal angles for any amount of time can be detrimental in the IRC/PHRF formats. For the rest of the day I felt the need to be a bit more conservative and go a little deeper before committing to tacking. Ultimately, sailing fatter into marks was a better play for the boat, but learning that nuance took a racing context to really understand.
One of the big lessons I learned by simply being in the tactician role was to be louder and more vocal to the rest of the crew as necessary. On board our boat, the helmsman’s role was one to make the boat go straight and make its maneuvers as quickly and smoothly as possible. There was very little need for any coaching through the turns, even in traffic. But once I had thought the next few moves through in my head, consulted the navigator, and talked over the helmsman’s shoulder so he could start visualizing what was going to happen, it was then my role to relay those plans to the rest of the ten guys forward so that they could have time to work out their next move, ask questions if necessary and properly prepare for the upcoming maneuver. We had a choice at one point to go with a flatter reaching sail for a triangle course that the race committee set for us instead of the regular windward-leewards. In the only boat-handling issue of the day, that sail went up with only the head and tack attached leaving the sheets slack on the deck and the clew whipping out to leeward as we burned off our speed down the first reach. Knowing that I had to be in a more vocal role, it was my position on the boat to call the mast man to “Hold” before dropping the jib, allowing us to at least have two sails up for the rest of the time down the leg before we could pull up the bigger spinnaker.
We had a couple of classic, tactician v. helmsman conversations through the weekend where I asked him to put the boat through a gap that he wasn’t sure we could shoot, or tacking across a boat he wasn’t sure we could cross, but all in all it was a very satisfying experience where the boat went where I knew the boat could go. One situation in particular impressed me. We were approaching the windward mark in the midst of a J122 clump. We were on the port layline with the leader of their group, just ahead on the starboard layline. Making the call that we could not lee-bow effectively, I pushed the team to hold on port, and follow the transom of the J boat into a tack. As soon as we tacked, I snuck down to leeward to get a view of the afterguard of the boat ahead. With about 200 yards left into the mark, he motioned to me that he wanted us to go through them to leeward so that we wouldn’t roll them or be hoisting directly on top of their breeze as we both turned down the run. Considering he was leading his group, I would have wanted the same thing. I love when rational people can successfully communicate with each other with one wave of the hand. When I came back up to the rail and let our helmsman know the next play, he took a double take and asked me if I was serious. I let our jib man know we were going to crack of and foot to leeward of the boat ahead. We broke through their bad air in about a boatlength’s time, and rounded the mark just bow-ahead.
In another case, we had been sailing on starboard for quite some time and two slower J44s were going to cross us from the left side of the racecourse. From a long distance out, I could see that they would be in play, but that their crosses would be close. The last thing I wanted was a short lee-bow from a J44, the last thing the driver of the J44 wanted was to have to leebow a 55-footer and get rolled, or be forced to take a massive duck. To ease his tensions about the close situation, I made eye contact from a few hundred feet out and waved them across. Only at that point did I tell our helmsman that there were a couple boats coming across our bow. There was never any need for change of course on either boat, but often hyper-tension at the wheel leads to irrational action. The boats crossed without trouble and we were able to keep the boat going upwind at optimum VMG.
Monday Morning Tactician Says: It’s always good to have a bit of conversation going between competitors around the racecourse. Often sailboats only talk to each other when there is a foul or in some tense situation. I find that most of the time its worthwhile to have the other boat know your intentions, more often than not they are parallel to your competitor’s.
The quick summary of the weekend is that I was impressed by the cohesiveness and fluidity of the crew onboard Rima2. I think the group was well rehearsed and well prepared for the situations that we got into, and in that sense it was great to be able to step into the tactician’s seat. There were some communication items that we overcame as well as some improved understanding of the rating-style of sailing, but all in all a good experience for me. I’m really looking forward to more sailing like it, next step is finding somebody who’ll have me on board.
Photo from this weekend
(I’m behind the helmsman with the brown hat)
Next on the agenda is the move up the hill here in Washington DC to a slightly bigger place. Next week the entire US Olympic Team has been invited to attend a reception at the White House, I guess now that Mr Bush has submitted his version of the market-recovery-plan, he’s just going to host the team for the next couple of months until he’s out of office. Looming on the horizon is the Melges 24 North Americans to be held in Annapolis at the Eastport Yacht Club. Can’t wait to get racing there.
May 27th, 2008 in Regattas, Monday Morning Tactician.
Photo: Delta Lloyd Regatta. Thanks to: Sperry Top-Sider, Magic Marine, Kaenon Polarized
(note: the GPS attached to the lower mast, see bottom for race link)
First Impressions: Sailing a great qualifier series followed by an ugly day of gold fleet racing at Delta Lloyd Holland Regatta this past week was almost an opposite image of the Hyeres regatta scores that I put up a few weeks earlier (where I had a tough qualifier series and a stellar couple of days in gold fleet to end the series). The big difference in Medemblik this week was the overall positioning going into the last day being vastly different. After five days of racing in Hyeres I was only able to come back to 15th or so, whereas in Holland I fell only three spots from my high-point in the regatta and was able to enter the medal race in 8th place.
Gold Fleet: The Gold fleet day of our event was a fair amount breezier than the previous three, but the results stumble cannot be attributed to simply different conditions, but instead to just having a tough day on the water in terms of picking first beats. Where I was able to get off the line and into the first pressure about 80% of the time earlier in the week, I missed on all three first beats of the Gold fleet day leaving me in positions where I had to scramble to come back in order to maintain my top ten standing in the regatta.
The Medal Race:
The medal race day was significantly windier… (more…)
May 5th, 2008 in Monday Morning Tactician.
With the routine so set in place in France last month you might think I was ready to stay. You would be wrong. After a couple of crazy connections and having a bag lost somewhere between Dublin and Philadelphia as I write, I made it back to America safe and sound. Rain greets my arrival in DC, but I’m looking forward to a bit of rest and relaxation this week before ramping up the fitness training again before Holland Regatta mid-May. Hyeres ended up being a successful event and I’m keen to capitalize on the efforts in Europe over the last six weeks as we get into the dog days of the European spring season. At most European events the racing is very intense. The Laser fleet is especially unforgiving in the individual attempts of a hundred and fifty sailors to get around the same marks as fast as they can. Often times those sailors hold little regard for minor rules and other boats. They see an opening, weigh the consequences (and perhaps more often don’t) of their potential actions and then go for it. For this week’s Monday Morning Tactician column I think it needs to be stated and explained that the fastest boat does not always win. Yes, I said it. (more…)
April 14th, 2008 in Monday Morning Tactician.
First things first, I’d like to put up a little testimonial to embarrass my little brother Michael who, while sailing at Georgetown University’s Sailing practice last Thursday, had an incident exactly like the one described in this column last week. I’ll let him tell the story:
At practice on Thursday, the exact situation that you described in last week’s Monday Morning Tactician occurred. I was the lead boat and, in gybing around the mark, was hit on the port rail by T*&# who had bore down, had called Starboard, and hit me. Since I stupidly had not read your post, I spun my 720 and quickly found myself in the back of the pack. Post-race, another teammate was quick to point out to me that I should just have read your post and continued sailing. T*&# subsequently stated that you were of course wrong and that he was obviously right. But per usual, T*&# is just full of s*&#.
I guess Michael learned his lesson and gave all the boys training over here a good laugh after hearing his email. Here I am in France thinking that he is still helping me edit my columns, maybe I should start proofreading a little more before I send out a new post! Regardless, I’m sorry that Michael got into the situation, but I’m psyched that the column is applicable for every-day occurrences on the racecourse. Who knows, maybe that incident made the difference for the Hoyas winning their Conference Championships this weekend (I’m pretty sure that the months of blood, sweat and training made the real difference). This week I have a more general point to make about upwind strategy in shifty conditions. More than half of the 10 days of training that we had here in Hyeres last week were from an offshore direction making for shifty and puffy conditions. In the last quarter of any beat into a weather mark, there is a huge priority placed on hitting the last shift into the mark. Even if you have been winning the race for the entire upwind leg, your positioning relative the fleet preceding that last shift can make or break the rest of the race. An important skill to have to improve your positioning in this endgame at the top of each beat is the ability to see, anticipate, and pursue the next puff up the racecourse. For instance, if you are approaching the windward mark just shy of the layline on starboard tack even if you are looking at the entire fleet on the port layline in your window, they could be better position for a left shift into the mark. When you find yourself in this position you are then forced to make a judgment between continuing on your starboard tack close-hauled angle and sailing as though the breeze will not change, or improving your position by footing off towards the fleet to leeward and closing the distance between you and the next puff. In the diagram below, I hope to convey the fact that the yellow boat is better off after and footing towards the rest of the fleet, moving into Position 1, than he would be having only sailed on a closehauled course, into Position 2.
Because most boats accelerate as they crack off from closehauled onto a footing angle, then it is feasible that most boats would be able to take advantage of sailing slightly more distance across the racecourse if they were at a higher speed. If the VMG (velocity made good) up the racecourse are similar between footing and closehauled, and even if it is slightly disadvantageous to foot on a purely VMG basis, it still may be tactically beneficial to position yourself better on the racecourse. This is something that is not always easy to grasp for sailboat racers, especially those who have spent their entire racing careers trying to make their speed around the racecourse better. When sailing against most of the European Laser fleet it is clear that many of the sailors have been schooled in a sailing strategy that is wholly focused on sailing as fast as you can all the time. Here comes the biggest secret in sailboat racing: the fastest sailors do not always win regattas. I’ll try and write another column exclusively about this in coming weeks, but often champion sailors are the fastest boat on the racecourse. However there are many scenarios where holding up and not going full speed can be beneficial to your overall race results. This upwind positioning scenario is a perfect example of when it is not necessarily superior strategy to sail the most efficient closehauled course. By footing off towards an oncoming header, you are able to cut out the potential disadvantage of a left shift (a starboard-tack header) by closing the lateral advantage that the fleet has by being on the left side of the racecourse. Monday Morning Tactician Says: As soon as you realize that the next shift to affect you and the rest of the boats on the course will be more beneficial to the other boats, then it is often wise to cut your forthcoming losses and close the distance between you and the other boats. The diagram shows a scenario where you can not only cut future losses due to a left shift, but also consolidate the gains you’ve made up the rest of the beat by positioning yourself between the rest of the fleet and the next mark… always a sound strategy.�
April 7th, 2008 in Monday Morning Tactician.
It’s Monday again and this past week has provided its fair share of head-scratching incidents that have sent me to the rulebook for a little clarification. We’ve been in Hyeres, along the south coast of France between Nice and Marseille for the last ten days enjoying the improving spring temperatures and varying breeze common to the area during this time of the year. I was able to hook in with a small training group made up of the top Swedes, Norwegians, and an Austrian sailor who descended upon the Base Nautique for a week-long camp. Yesterday after much of the group had gone home just Kristian, Stian and I headed around the peninsula that protects the bay from westerly breezes, into the waves and wonderment of the open Mediterranean… Our coach Brian Stanford was there to capture the action. Enjoy: HyeresTrainingSession-Downwind
Now that everybody has been sufficiently distracted by the film footage, I’m sure that nobody’s reading this Monday Morning Tactician analysis, so at least there’s no pressure for good literature. We had one incident in particular this week that seems a very common after practice. It was a major point of contention a couple of months ago at a training camp in Terrigal and it came up again here this week. It involves two boats traveling around a windward mark. The boat ahead having pinched to get around the mark is going decidedly slower than an oncoming boat behind also trying to bear away around the mark. As the boat ahead heels to windward very tight to the mark and then gets his bow down leaving a space between him and the mark the boat behind is having a stellar mark rounding, wide and looking to leave the mark tight to his port side. As the boat ahead rolls into a gybe, he realizes that all of a sudden a starboard tack, leeward boat has appeared in between him and the mark preventing him from completing his gybe onto port (or in many cases, prevents the Laser from making a full 180 from close-hauled on starboard to by-the-lee on starboard). Where did this guy come from? He didn’t have room at the mark when the first boat entered the two boat-length circle… but now he’s yelling “Hey, I’m the leeward boat and I’m on starboard. Now get out of my way!” And the boat ahead must crash-turn out of his maneuver and veer off in the other direction yielding the left side of the racecourse (looking downwind) to the other boat’s control. (more…)
March 29th, 2008 in Monday Morning Tactician.
Bob McKillop, yes that Bob McKillop, the insolent yet patient coach who took his Davidson players past my Hoyas last week in the NCAA Tournament said something that struck an interesting chord last week after his squad played their way into the ‘Sweet Sixteen.’ In response to a question about whether he had expected his team to get this far in the tournament he answered: “…We try not to set goals on this team, expectations only create limitations…” I stopped and reread the sentence that I had just seen. What!?! Here we have a coach that deliberately urges his players not to set goals for themselves! How can this be? Certainly this slaps orthodox coaching practice in the face, or does it?
Everybody sets some sort of benchmark or goal for themselves in certain situations. Just last week when we were talking to a new coach we were working with before Palma one of the first questions on the table: “What is your goal for this regatta?” I thought this was a valid and indeed a good question to start a conversation. Without a goal we have no starting point no standard for achievement. Without that standard we have no need for competition. Certainly the lack of focused goals within a team would ultimately produce anarchy as players played towards different levels of achievement. When there is no unifying ideal for the team to rally around then what are they meant to strive for? It seems that safe and practiced coaching and playing strategies in any sport has a goal oriented system in which teams and players set an ultimate end for their performance at a higher level than they start out. Then, by tackling smaller goals along their training and competitive season they may ultimately arrive at their pre-conceived goal wherever it may be. Goals are a critical piece in the puzzle for keeping teams focused through practice and through minor competition as they seek the greater prize.
On the other hand Goals can perhaps be a hinderance as Coach McKillop says. Once you’ve achieved your goal then what incentive do you or your team have to continued higher up the ladder towards the top? To achieve a goal earns a sense of pride in that self-oriented measure of success. Pride can lead to Sloth and ultimately hold a team or player back from their true potential in the given context. By not setting a Goal at the beginning of the season and instead putting all your team’s focus in a system, then you avoid the limitations of benchmarks and personal-expectations. By focusing on the system then the surprise of exceeding expectations is diminished because you and your players knew all along that their system was superior to those of other schools and should continue winning.
But what are we really talking about here? There must be goals set somewhere even within this system otherwise there is no satisfaction at the end of the season, only frustration and angst. Coach McKillop was responding directly to a question regarding whether or not he was surprised that his team had made it this far in the tournament. If he was not surprised that his team had played that deep into the bracket then he must have had some sort of expectation that they might be capable of doing so ahead of time. His response implies that he did not sit down with his team before the tournament and say: “Our Goal is to make it to the Sweet Sixteen.” That’s fine and a bit easier to swallow. Once you arrive at the doorstep of a tournament where you are only five wins away from a National Title, then everybody in the field is playing to win that National Title. There is a clear goal in the sights of every team on the courts across the country when they enter the NCAA finals: to win the championship. Some teams may have set the goal at the beginning of the season just to make it to the tournament, or to do better than they did in years past. Those are dangerous goals for a team to have no doubt. When you are simply satisfied to be in attendance, then there is really no point in being there. Teams always have something to lose and something to gain every time that they step onto the court or into the boat. Whether or not they are already beyond their own expectations or beyond those of their peers or their elders should not interfere with the goal that every player should always have to play his or her best while trying to win the game at hand. Perhaps this ability to reassess ones goals mid-stride is something that Coach McKillop cares not to address. Perhaps it is too complicated for his players while they ride the national momentum as tournament Cinderellas. Everybody refers to the Final Four appearance a couple of years ago by George Mason University as one of the ultimate Cinderella experiences, and yet while I can see that many of those players were probably surprised at how far they played into the tournament, I refuse to believe that they did not have a goal to be playing deep into they tournament. This year, Davidson is a team many are talking about in the same context, albeit not yet to the same level of success as GMU. So, for the coach to say that they didn’t set a goal to be at the point where they sit is insulting. However, to say that they are not surprised about their position is valid and honorable.
I agree that goals are potentially dangerous tools to use in a team environment. If you set your sights too low and thereby exceed them, then there is a risk of being satisfied with less a level lower than your ultimate potential. If you set your goals so high that it is unlikely your team can achieve them then there is a risk of apathy towards the process that might take you towards that goal. However, it is an important skill to be able to adjust one’s goals to an appropriate level to place them consistently just out of reach so that the team and players feel the need to extend and perhaps overextend themselves to get there and at the same time make the goals achievable so that there will be a camaraderie and confidence that for the team to build on with the knowledge that they can do it, that achieving one’s goals, one’s dreams (to use the cliche) is possible.
It is a certain Aristotelean principle that people should always strive towards excellence as their ultimate goal. Excellence is personified by the perfection of whatever it is you want to achieve or to be. It is defined as: outstanding or extremely good, but I think it goes beyond that. Excellence playing at one’s level of potential. I think this is what Coach McKillop was talking about and I applaud him for that. By refusing to set concrete goals of Sweet-Sixteen or Elite Eight or Final Four status, then he has only presented his team’s Potential as a goal for which they should strive. Conventional goals are concrete items that can be written in newspaper columns or websites. Teams can be judged against history by these parameters. If instead the players focus within themselves to play to their personal potential within their team’s system then the ultimate satisfaction is in the achievement of excellence. It is incredibly lucky for a team to be able to align its personal level of excellence with that presented by the establishment under which they play. If Memphis or UCLA, or even my poor Hoyas played to their potential, then they will win the tournament and the championship. If Davidson, on the day, plays at their potential against these powerhouses of the sport and those teams do not, then Davidson may be able to surpass those big teams. The true measure of success should be for a team to realize that they played to their potential even in the face of a loss. This is the most difficult achievement in sport and rarely ever happens. Teams often blame their losses on the fact that they played a superior team before they were able to realize their own true potential. But it is the most powerful pursuit in sport to achieve one’s potential on a personal level, to achieve Excellence (with a capital ‘E’) is what Coach McKillop is striving for and he should not be reluctant to say so.
Keeping in mind that McKillop’s pesky Davidson team was the giant-killer that took down my team, I will be rooting publicly against them even as their Cinderella bandwagon fills up with under-dog enthusiasts. I hope that they keep in mind that just as the recent Nike ad points out “There Are No Cinderellas.” These teams have worked harder than ever before to earn the success that they are having.
_________________________More to come from Hyeres, France and the training camp here before the 40th Semaine Olmypique Francais this month.�
March 25th, 2008 in Monday Morning Tactician.
This week in Palma presented a number of possible situations worthy of discussion from the Monday Morning perspective. The Medal Race is always one of those scenarios that provides an increased number of close calls and debatable decisions. As we lined up for the final approach to the starting line in the final race of the event with a shrunken fleet and big breeze it became apparent to me how important starts had become again in my sailing.
While they are always a very important piece of the puzzle, on the Olympic circuit a good start rarely guarantees a good race. In bigger fleets on big race courses, it is only critically important to have clear air up the first beat and be in the front row. Paired with good boatspeed, clear air will create opportunities for a good finish. For the weekend warrior, Medal Races on the Olympic Circuit may seem of little interest for improving their tactical awareness, but with their short courses and small fleets, place that additional importance on starting because there are simply fewer boats and each one of those boats has a more aggressive agenda than usual. Just as the last race in any series counts for a bit more than the rest of the series in the minds of the sailors, the Medal Race is just an augmented version of the make-or-break final race that was going to happen anyway. With double-points it just lets sailors potentially move more across the leaderboard. It is always vital to win the favored end of the line if you intend to better yourself in the score card. If you have a match-race-style situation on your hands the start becomes less the priority than just beating your opponent to the line, but being ahead early still retains the same demand for urgency.
In this past week’s race I made the decision early on that I wanted to be left up the first beat. I essentially had nothing to lose in the race in ninth place in the standings basically tied (one point ahead) with the tenth place sailor. If I could get out and win the race then there was possibility to get out and take down a couple of players. With the breeze way up, almost 25 knots and big waves, I knew that the angles would be relatively low upwind due to the overpowered nature of the Laser. In the warm up I had been sheeting out almost two and three feet from the transom with boomvang strapped. Being bow down, headers are only accentuated by the angle and I felt strongly about being in the leeward group of the fleet. With thirty seconds to go I was set up as the leeward-most boat of the fleet. At twenty seconds or so, Julio made a blasting move down the line to take a close position to leeward of me. I decided to make a double tack and gauge off his hip. In retrospect this was a tough place to live going up the beat for the reasons listed above, but because I was able to pull the trigger better than he was I started bow even and maybe slightly ahead of him. My windward position did not pay off due to a slight boatspeed difference that hampered my progress up the first 300 yards of the course. I was able to round the mark right with him and eventually pass him on the final run into the finish later in the race to maintain 9th place overall in the regatta.
Even though my strategy did not pan out exactly as I had planned, the necessity for having that plan ahead of time along with proper execution will all but guarantee a strong showing in the race. Strong positioning can rarely fight off superior boatspeed, but persistence can. I hope that the coming weeks in Europe with some of that continued persistence will make the difference next month in Hyeres SOF. The most important lesson to be learned from this medal race scenario is that taking a slightly more aggressive stance on the start line can lead to a string of good events throughout the race and ultimately a good finish. There are any number of paths to follow that may also lead to good finishes, but by playing the high-percentage move at the start and being bow-out in a clear lane you will have greatly improved your likelihood of a good score.
March 10th, 2008 in Monday Morning Tactician.
An interesting rules question went through the Scuttlebutt threads this week, and the rules were discussed and then corrected and explained. But, as often happens with rules discussions, the tactical ramifications of the scenario were not discussed. It is well and good to discuss the rules and debate their nuances, but without putting them in a tactical framework, they are useless to the everyday sailor. Here is the discussion from the Scuttlebutt #2546:
RULES QUESTION…. CORRECTEDIn Issue 2545, we provided a rules question, but in our attempt toparaphrase the situation that is posted on the ISAF website, we apparentlymessed up the applicable rules. So much for a simplified system. Here is thesituation again, with some help from the ‘buttheads:Two boats are sailing closehauled, both on port, overlapped, and a half of aboat length apart with the leeward boat’s bow slightly ahead. They areapproaching the finish line, of which a committee boat is on the right sideof the finish with a finish line flag positioned halfway between the bow andstern.While the windward boat can fetch the finish line flag, she can’t fetch thebow of the committee boat. The leeward boat cannot fetch the finish lineflag, and her course is directly aimed toward the committee boat, and willlikely need to tack to both cross the finish and clear the stern quarter ofthe committee boat. Can the leeward boat hail to the windward boat that sheneeds room to tack, and is the windward boat obligated to keep clear?RULES ANSWER…CORRECTEDBecause the windward boat cannot fetch the committee boat, Rule 19.1applies, which permits the leeward boat to hail for room to tack due to theobstruction, wherein the windward boat must either tack as soon as possible,or immediately reply “you tack”, in which case the hailing boat shall tackas soon as possible and the hailed boat shall give room. However, if thewindward boat was able to fetch both the finish line flag AND the committeeboat, then Rule 19.2 applies, and the leeward boat would NOT be entitled toroom to tack under 19.1. However, in this situation, the windward boat muststill keep clear if the leeward boat wants to luff up and shoot the finishline flag.* Here is the link to the example on the ISAF website:http://www.sailing.org/1548.php
Now, let us filter the rules from this particular scenario into something that we can actually use to our tactical advantage. We’ll take a few perspectives: 1: as the windward boat fetching the anchor line, 2: as the windward boat not fetching the anchor line, 3: as the leeward boat not fetching the finishing pin, but on a collision course with the race committee boat’s transom.
Keep in mind… when you are coming into the finish of any race, it is of critical importance to realize that the race is not over as soon as you cross the finish line with you bow. At this point you are finished, but in fact you are still racing by definition until you have both finished and cleared the finishing area. This is why this rule question even comes up. The windward boat may be finished and the leeward boat may not yet be finished but they are indeed both still racing. That said, you need to continue using your tactical brain not only through the finish line, but out of the finishing area entirely.
As the windward boat in the above scenario, and going into any finish for that matter where you are the boat keeping clear it is tactically sound to get the heck out of there as quickly as possible or get into a place where you are in the right of way. This scenario perfectly illustrates a Monday Morning Tactician-style situation where a windward boat has finished but then somehow manages to foul after the finish. You would come in from a day of racing kicking yourself in the head and giving your tactician the boot. If you are the windward boat overlapped with a leeward boat, and you can see that she will at some point be asking for “room to tack,” then it is your best course of action to get away from that guy as soon as tactically possible. There is a clear advantage to be had to putting pressure on that guy, but there is inherent risk in waiting until he asks for room to tack before taking evasive action. The safe move is always to avoid this type of questionable rules situation in the first place.
If you are in the position of the leeward boat and you are going to lay the pin but not the anchor line, according to the rules you are enabled the right to ask for room to tack at the obstruction. With that in mind, there are a few things to consider. You also want to avoid questionable rules situations, so it is critical to make it clear to the windward boat well ahead of time that you will: one, be coming up to at least head to wind to cross the finish line and avoid the committee boat, and two may need room to tack. If you make it clear to that windward boat ahead of time, they are more likely to understand what is about to happen and may tack off earlier. Vocabulary is paramount. While sailing with the Georgetown team last week we had a long discussion of the very topic. If you do not use the words “I have an OBSTRUCTION… I need ROOM TO TACK” then there is simply too much grey area in the rules to depend on them. Using those words exactly when you mean them is the single most important part of this rule. In the case of a stationary obstruction like a committee boat, or a rock wall, or a kelp patty there is leeway only in the sense that you can better judge how much time and how much room you will need to tack. Remember that the windward boat only has two possible responses: He can tack away as soon as you ask, or he can say “You Tack” and then react to your rate of turn. However, as soon as he responds, you must then tack as soon as possible. If you ask for “Room to tack” and then get a 20 degree lift that just allows you to lay the pin and then you sail off away from the line on port… you have committed a foul. Even if you get a freak lift that allows you to lay the committee boat, if you have asked at any point for “Room to tack” then you must physically tack or risk being disqualified.
If you are the boat to leeward and you cannot lay the committee boat end of the line then you had better start pinching. I’m only halfway joking. If you can pinch and make it so that you will need room to tack at the committee boat, then you are better off than driving off and attempting a last minute tack onto starboard and duck on the finish line. Anticipation all of a sudden becomes the biggest issue here. You need to sort out well ahead whether you are going to lay the finish, and if you cannot and are too close to the boat to windward to tack safely onto starboard without mixing up in a tacking-too-close situation, then your best move is to start footing away from your opponent as soon as possible. Optimally you will have gauged enough distance away from him by the time you get to the committee boat that you can safely tack onto starboard for a final approach to the mark. There is a whole can of worms to be opened at another time with this close tack onto starboard. Last winter there were a couple of Monday Morning Tactician columns written about the exact subject and how to improve your position within them.
All things considered, avoiding mayhem at the finish is the most important thing. Taking a good look ahead of time at all the options will save you points and potential for disqualification. Any time you can get through a situation as tight as the one described above without incident it should be considered a victory. I’m off to Palma de Mallorca in preparation for the Trofeo Princesa Sofia to start next weekend. My next report will be from the European circuit.
March 4th, 2008 in Monday Morning Tactician.
After a couple of weeks of R, R & R (Rest, Recovery and Reorganization) at home in San Diego, I’m back on the road again stopping briefly in Washington, DC to spend a few days teamracing with the Georgetown Hoyas and catching up with former teammates in the city. I leave for Europe on March 10th and the plan of action upon arrival is still being worked out. If the all goes according to that plan I’ll be waking up off the redeye, taking a cab to the shipping yard, meeting Chris Rast (the US 49er crew who is driving in with a new trailer from Switzerland to replace the one that was stolen from Melbourne) unloading a container loaded with a coach boat, two 470s, four 49ers and my Laser. We’ll take our gear out and likely have to put some of the stuff for the guys who can’t be there back in, and then head over to the ferry landing downtown before getting aboard an evening ferry for an overnight ride to Mallorca.
While sailing with the Hoyas yesterday we had two two-and-a-half-hour sessions in sunny 65 degree temps in front of the Washington skyline, or lack thereof. The water still hasn’t had its fair time to warm up, so I don’t think it was 40 degrees, but the 15-25 knots of puffy breeze made that Potomac chop kick up and the sailing very fun. We had twelve boats, six 420s and six FJs all set up for the spring teamracing season. One thing that became quickly apparent was that tacking duels in 18 knots for two people not entirely used to the 420 training should be avoided at all costs… We got a few laughs out of botched tacks and missed opportunities to cover in places we knew we should have been but intentionally avoided. What the lack of boathandling demands is the use of your brain to stay ahead. Instead of speed or skills helping to keep ahead of the guy you need to beat, you have to use proper positioning on the racecourse.
For instance, when you are the boat behind and you are being intentionally covered by a boat ahead (this happens most often in Match and Teamracing, but believe me, it happens its fair share in Fleetracing as well) you have to make every tack count. That means that when you have a third party coming across from the other side, you tack in a way that would make your opponent have to make a decision he might not normally like to make. Matchracing (and in many ways Teamracing is just three matchraces going on at the same time) is a game won by making your opponent make choices that he doesn’t want to make. He thinks: “If I tack on my opponent, as I would prefer, then that means I’ll be tacking into somebody else’s bad air… But if I keep going another couple of lengths to get into a clean lane for myself, then my opponent is sailing alone in clear air.” By putting this guy in a no-win situation you’ve always bettered your own position. As the covering boat you need to think about ways in which you can better your position by making fewer maneuvers. For instance, yesterday we were in a tacking duel covering the opponent up the right side of the racecourse. We needed to slow our pair down so that we could balance for another teammate out left. In the 420 my role is to watch our opponent and react accordingly, while my crew’s role is to look upwind and make macro-scale tactical decisions about laylines and windshifts. Our opponent made another tack onto port heading back out right and we had the opportunity to tack on his face and hurt his breeze. “How do we look?” I asked. “We’re about 5 lengths from the starboard tack layline and we’ve got breeze in the middle.” In my mind that was music to my ears… and immediately meant that we would let our opponent nose out into clear air on the right. This may sound odd. Why would I let my guy get into clear air? By letting him think that he is getting away he will commit himself to a life of marginalization and pain on the starboard tack layline… AND we would minimize our own maneuvers by sailing a little longer and tacking a few moments later. After sailing the rest of the way out right bow-even with our opponent instead of in a cover position, we leveraged ourselves properly to tack right on his nose for the final approach to the finish on the starboard tack layline. At that point we have total control over his speed and breeze and can properly balance for our teammates.
Monday Morning Tactician Says: Anticipation is key from both perspectives in a tight cover situation. If you are ahead and need to maintain control, then you have to be able to anticipate the future decision’s awaiting you up the racecourse as far as laylines, breeze and third parties in order to position yourself into a dominant role. If you are the boat behind you have to have the foresight to put your opponent into situations he didn’t anticipate. You have to make him uncomfortable, you have to make him second guess the correct move and force him into a costly mistake. Anticipation is something gained through racing practice and racing practice alone. In no other context do you make decisions at such a high rate of speed and with such a high demand for accuracy. Through communication within your boat and a proper delegation of responsibilities you can make things a lot easier for yourself.�
February 25th, 2008 in Monday Morning Tactician.
When approaching a Laser worlds like the one we just finished in Terrigal, and similarly to the one going on at present for the masters fleet, there are a few concepts as well as concrete preparations you can give yourself to maximize your experience and performance at that regatta. After a few days to reflect on my event and drawing upon my own set of experiences I’ve come up with a few things worth remark. My first Worlds in 2001 in Ireland, I was a 17-year-old high schooler fresh on the scene and fresh to the boat in reality. I had only recently come out of the laser radial and was probably over my head thinking I could jump right in with any real success. Now, at 24 after having sailed in Cadiz (’03), Jeju (’06), Cascais (’07) and Terrigal (’08) I have a better feel for what to expect and how to approach the event mentally and physically.
1. Show Up Early:
By getting there with plenty of time to go before the regatta, you can take advantage of the time to both acclimate yourself to the new location and get your head around any potential jetlag, but more importantly you can take advantage of training sessions that are second to none and only available specifically before the Laser Worlds. There are never that many top Laser sailors together at the same time for a more concentrated week of sailing than in the ten days before the world championship. Never, on any other racecourse, in any other fleet will you have such an open and available mix of high quality sailors ready to train at such a high level except in the ten days before the Laser worlds. Lining up against world champions, european champions, top-ten ranked sailors and top-level sailors in the varying conditions is a relatively easy thing to do in this precious time period because everybody hits the water in or around midday.
1-Corrollary:
Practice your rabbit starts. Rabbit starts are the most commonly used procedure used on the training course before the worlds. It is not uncommon to have 75 or more boats ducking a single rabbit before going upwind for 10-15 minutes to a coachboat or small training mark. The key to getting the most out of this training period is to get out from the rabbit start with a clear lane and then hold that lane for as long as possible. Obviously this is the key to most starts in most aspects of sailing, but being at full speed just below close-hauled or at close-hauled when your bow passes the rabbit’s transom is paramount to having a successful training race.
The best part about the large fleet rabbit situations is that there is always somebody new going fast each race. There are always people sailing in and out of the group so you always have fresh legs and fresh faces. If you want to practice holding your lane on somebody’s close hip, then you can do that. If you want to practice footing from a pin end start, then you can be the first boat to duck. If you want to see how you’re going against the group from the right, you can be the rabbit. The informality allows for flexibility in your personal training. That said, there are some negative aspects of the training that you need to be aware of an account for else you may walk away frustrated.
2. Don’t Get Burned Out by Practice:
I say this because the Laser is a very simple boat. It is not entirely difficult to get the boat going fast. The beauty of the class in many ways is that it is not hard for new sailors to hop in a get up to national-level speed in a very short time. Because of this, there are generally about 100 boats capable of having top-15 finishes at the worlds in any given race. I’m not sure that can happen in many other classes. It is very common for first-time Worlds participants to be absolutely blown away by the lineups before the regatta starts. The ruthlessness of the competition, the lack of commitment to the rules, the desperation for any extra ounce of speed, and the peak condition of the athletes sailing during this training period makes the sailing extremely difficult and at times frustrating. Try as best as you can to keep that from happening. Besides wasting time and energy getting frustrated, you waste precious minutes and hours of training before the biggest regatta of the year. It is easy for nobody, so hang tough and keep putting your nose in the front row and be reasonable about the number of hours you train.
3. Know your threshold for good training:
Following the same idea we just discussed, it is important to have a good feel for where your body is physically before you start each day’s training in preparation for the worlds or any major event on your calendar. Have a good plan about which days leading into the first day of the event you will sail and which you will take off. For instance before this recent worlds I counted the days before the worlds and in the final week before the first day of racing I planned to sail in this pattern:
7 Days until Race Day (RD - 7): Sail a 2-4 hour session. Light/no gym.
RD - 6: Sail a 2-4 hour session combined with normal gym session.
RD - 5: Day off from sailing. Light gym work and covering the small details like re-rigging and ensuring that all the parts and pieces, extras gear etc. is set for the upcoming regatta.
RD - 4: Sail for a 2-3 hour session, normal training intensity. Last gym day before the worlds. Put up the racing sail if the breeze is light-moderate.
RD - 3: Sail for a 1.5-2 hour session near the projected start time posted for the upcoming event. Put up the racing sail if the breeze is light-moderate.
RD - 2: Registration, Measurement, and a short sail to see where the race committee sets up for their practice race. I chose not to sail the practice race but instead to get in ahead of the crowd, get packed up and put away and go home to eat large amounts of food and start to rest before the event
RD - 1: Day completely off and away from the boatpark except to check for notices and changes to the schedule/sailing instructions.
Day 1: First two races…
By tapering the intensity of the sailing and gym work you can ensure that your body will be totally rested before the first day of racing. It is critically important to force yourself to take a day off here or there as the recovery is more worthwhile in terms of the upcoming even than another day’s training.
Monday Morning Tactician Says: Have a decent plan for exactly what you want to do before the big event and then stick to it (as much as you can regardless of day-to-day conditions) and you will see improvement of your performance.
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Check out the recent SAIL Magazine February for my article on the US Olympic Trials format.
Monday Morning Tactician (TM) is written by Andrew Campbell for CampbellSailing.com.