Sailing is so in your head. Sailing is swagger. Sailing is confidence. Yes, sailing is the details of rig and boat handling and tactics and rules and weather prediction, but more and more to me, it is heart and head.
When Kyle Dakin won the Snipe Canadians this past weekend, I was on the course (see entry: Snipe Canadians) and know what he had to do to get to the top. In the first race, he had a breakdown and I saw him way back in the fleet on the first beat. Remember, this is the first race! The start of the regatta! I know Kyle and Franchesco were expecting to rock that fleet, and to start with a breakdown and a 4th could easily have knocked the wind out of them. Yes, they pounded the second race and won it, but they were no heros in the third. Kyle had to work back from deep to get his 2nd place. In fact, I saw him deep a couple of times.
But the real challenge for him came on the second day when he was completely out of it in the race that was ultimately abandoned, and then went right (the correct call) in the real race and sat on the rail while the guys on the left hiked their bags off and rounded well ahead. He caught a 5th and his main rival came 2nd, to wipe out all his work on the previous day. "Morale in the boat was low," says Franchesco with a wry smile when we talked afterwards.
We all know what that is like, and we all know that sailing delivers those moments all the time. And we all know how we sail when we let those discouragements get into our heads. James and I had a bad day as well, and I let it get to me in the last race. I berated myself and sailed with the sick feeling all the way around the course. The results show it with the worst result of the series. But Kyle and Franchesco pulled it up and trashed the fleet in the last race to win the Snipe Canadians. They didn't let their challenges get to them.
Being of weaker mind and heart, I had a harder time, but sometimes, I rock. Last night was race night at the Rat, and I was late and missed the first race. They were in sequence as I sailed out to the second race, but you'd think I planned my start from the dock. With barely a skipped beat, I sailed all the way from the club to the start line and crossed it on the gun at the boat. Joe Van was just below me and was incredulous afterwards, "Where did you come from!" he said, eyes wide.
It was a blustery, shifty northerly, which is now my closest friend and provides my favourite conditions. We hit a header, I tacked, I sailed on towards the Rat Spit, hit another header, rounded first and never looked back.
In the second race, I waited till the last minute to decide where to start, started in the middle, and met Richard Sewards at the top mark. He rounded ahead and I followed him to the leeward mark. We had a great back and forth up the beat, but in my head, I knew I was going to beat him. As it turned out, I was just below the layline on starboard when he came up on port. He waited too long to decide to duck me, and tried to bear off. When it was clear he was going to T-bone me, he tacked under instead (thank you Richard) and had to wait for me to tack to the mark, and follow me. That was it. I was better downwind, and the race was done.
In the third race, I was behind a bunch of boats, with Nic Kim in the lead. I was also outside at the jibe mark and dumped. On the second reach, I was 6th But I knew I was going to make up ground. Sure enough, the first half of my good luck came in the form of Allen Lathrop. He is the consummate luffer, and was in second place with four boats above him trying to get the inside line at the bottom mark. He took them to Ottawa and helped me gain about six boat lengths so that, by the time I was at the leeward mark, I was right up behind the 5th place boat. I knew we were on the lift rounding the mark so I held for the header. I got it, and tacked on the big, big lift. I am not sure what everyone else was doing, but I knew left side was better and stayed to the left of everyone. At the top mark, I crossed below Richard and just ahead of Allen (Nic was in 1st and never let it go). At the mark, I was even with Richard and I knew I would pass him on the run and that's exactly what happened.
In the last race, my confidence couldn't have been higher. I had some problems in the evening (the dump being just one of them), but never for a moment thought they would slow me down enough to discourage me. My head was on straight. It was like I knew I was always where I needed to be. And that is the point of all this. I wish I could bottle the feeling, the head space, the heart attitude - whatever you want to call it. And it seems so much more mysterious than the things we believe are the difference between winning and losing. We work so hard on the things we can control with the expectation that those are the things that matter, and they are. But without a mature head, all that stuff won't get you past the first mark.
I started at the pin and picked up enough of a header to cross the fleet. Again, I decided to stay to the left of the fleet and the fleet made it easy for me by tacking underneath as I crossed. There were some that went deep left, but I just kept my eye on them. I didn't follow because I had seen the same guys do the same thing in a previous race and it didn't pay because they were going left too early. Right in the middle of the course, I got a crazy header that I am surprised the rest of the guys below me didn't tack on (except for Nic) and got lifted almost to the mark. Nic and I rounded ahead by a mile and we stayed that way. I think I might have beat some boats by a leg. The night ends with a 1, 1, 2, 1.
Is all this bragging? Maybe, but I wrote this to make a point to anyone who likes to race boats and cares about winning. Did I?
Rob Koci races in both the Laser Full-Rig and Laser Radial fleets around District 3. Currently, Rob is the District 3 secretary and maintains a frequently updated race diary on D3Laser.com. Rob's home port is St. James Town Sailing Club in Toronto, Ontario.
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