To make the four days of driving worthwhile, the boys in Florida provide a little regatta in between the two biggies, the Midwinters and the Florida Masters, called Midweek Madness. Less guys show up. A lot of the good guys go home to run their businesses. Some go home to rest. It means a few less competitors, but better chances to do well.
The first day was a howler for two races, and not so howler for the next two. I went out with the Radial, as did all of the little guys. My starts were good to stellar and in the first two races, the Radial was the right choice. Still, I should have done better. In the first race, you had to take to the shore as quickly as possible, as Ari Barshi did (he said he sailed to shore till his centerboard hit the sand) and then tack to the mark. The wind was from the northwest and backed as you went to shore, giving you a big lift once you tacked to port. I started just above Ari, but on the first header, I tacked away into the middle of the course while he continued. I played shifts and he banged the corner and was never challenged in front. I was one of the guys that ended up on the right side of the course, and watched as Ari and friends lifted high above us to take big leads.
The second race started in similar breeze but the course straightened out a bit. Not to be caught out, I sailed deeper into shore than I did last race, and went in too deep this time. It was a typical rookie mistake. I knew the course was straightening out, but didn't trust my instincts and decided to believe against my better judgment that the shore would do the same thing as last time. It did, but not as much, and the right side came in huge at the top of the leg to make the shore truly bad.
The third and fourth races were sailed in full rig conditions, so being passed by full rigs while I sailed the radial was par for the course. And as the wind died and the chop remained, I found myself not only going the wrong way, but going slower than the boats around me. The wind got shifter and I got more frustrated, which is not a good combo. I ended the day good enough to be in 9th place, but it was a lousy 9th, in my opinion, because the competition was not that fierce, and Peter Sidenburg was in fourth and well ahead of me on points.
I resolved to be a student of the light conditions. The only problem with getting better in light conditions is that I am not sure how to explain what the difference is between being very bad and being good. I got better with the light conditions that prevailed on the second day, but how? One thing is for sure; I looked up more. Looking up it a double edged sword, however. On the one hand, you see more of the shifts and what is happening on the course. On the other, you see when your competition had found something good that you have not. If you are at the bottom of a lift, and all the boats to weather are lifting above you, it is not a pretty sight. It is however, important to know, and if you can be patient and wait your turn, there is a good chance that the header you need will come, and you will lift above your competitors as they lifted above you. In the races of the second day, you had to catch the shifts correctly, but you also had to catch the puffs. It was no good lifting in a lull, so there were a few headers you had to sail through. Which ones? Always hard to guess. But you had to guess, and you had to accept that some of your guesses were going to be wrong.
There are a few basic rules when sailing in light shifting conditions that I think everyone knows; don't get to the laylines too soon, don't sail headers (by sail I mean cross the course on one. Sometimes you have to take a small one to get to the better one), keep the boat moving at all costs (don't pinch), don't get into one-on-one battles and have patience. Big leads evaporate quickly. Big mistakes can be wiped out in a second. Beyond those rules, it is as much feel and experience as anything else.
I had a good chance to watch a couple of the best, John MacCausland and Peter Sidenburg, on the second day. John in particular did very well with what we had. He always seems to stay in the middle of the course He only jumps to one side near the end of the leg. He said to me after the race, quite honestly, that it is a lot easier to find the shifts when you are ahead, and I think he gets ahead as much on boatspeed and handling as smarts. But he once he is ahead, he finds the apex of the shifts very well. I followed him a few times, but even in the following, he gains because he is more accurate in finding the points where the tack makes the maximum gain. At each tack, when I go tack for tack with him, he gains a boat length, or two or ten. Half is boat speed, I believe, but there is plenty he gains from smarts, too.
Peter takes shifts longer, and picks sides better, I think. He will sail through a header to a better one over and over again. When I am tack for take with him, there is always a tack that he takes that I don't believe in, and so I split and when I come back, about four times out of five, I was wrong and he was right. There was one tack where I did get it right at the end of the last race, and finished third. I think he was fifth.
The only REALLY painful part of finishing 7th overall is that David Hartman finished 6th and Peter Sidenburg finished 4th, both being GGMs.
I am writing this the morning of the first day of the Florida Masters. The conditions promise to be exactly the same as the Midweek Maddness regatta, so we'll see if I have learned anything.
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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