There some very good bald-headed sailors
around, and over the past couple of weekends I've had the privilege of sailing
with two of Britain's finest.
Britain's best known bald dinghy sailor is
Geoff Carveth, for whom I crewed on a rather hairy (excuse the pun) outing in
the International 14 the other day. Geoff and I had never sailed together
before - except for one abortive attempt at sailing a 49er at Littleton Sailing
Club in a Force 5 to 6. If you know Littleton then you'll wonder what on earth
we were thinking of. It is very small, and very shallow, too shallow to fully
lower your daggerboard. Being surrounded by trees from almost every side, the breeze
is not the most predictable. Not the best venue for a 49er, but we must have
provided great entertainment for anyone watching.
Anyway, this time would be different,
because it would be in an International 14 on the wide open waters of Hayling
Bay. The boat was a Bieker 4 which Geoff will be guest-steering at the upcoming
100th anniversary Prince of Wales Week in Cowes at the end of
August, sailing with the boat's crew and owner from America, John Vincze. Geoff
invited me along as stand-in crew for a day of training.
As it happened, a number of top young
sailors from the 29er and 49er fleets had been invited along to take part in a
trial, to determine which of them would earn the right to take part in POW in
borrowed International 14s. The aim of the weekend was to introduce a few up
and coming sailors to the joys of the 14, and what better way than to throw
them in at the deep end, with a race out of Chichester Harbour and into the
wilds of Hayling Bay?
After a mediocre start off the line, Geoff
and I started getting into our stride, but as we headed out of the Harbour and
into the Bay, it was clear the breeze was quite a big stronger than we'd
anticipated. The rig was bouncing around all over the place, and the brand new
T-foil rudder system hardly needed to be pulled on as the boat was already
threatening to submarine into the backs of some typically steep Hayling waves.
We capsized during one of the tacks, and
lost ground to the leaders. We got upright again quickly, but the boat felt
sluggish. It felt so awful that we decided that it was worth me going into
change a few things - pull up the daggerboard, increase the rig tension, pull
on some jib Cunningham. Once we'd done this and I'd got back on the wire, the
boat really wanted to pick up and go, and we started closing in on the
opposition again. We crossed the finish line in about 5th place
after a long windward slog.
The plan had been to regroup, before the
race committee sent us off on the next leg up to Bembridge off the eastern tip
of the Isle of Wight. A four-mile beat, after what had already been a
three-mile beat! From there the plan was to reach over to the Nab Tower far
offshore, before reaching back to Chichester Harbour. But with the wind and the
waves quite a bit bigger than expected, and with a whole bunch of new recruits
discovering Fourteening for the first time, the race committee decided the Nab
Tower marathon would not be sensible, and so they sent us back to Chichester
Harbour.
Now, bearing away in a 14 is not usually
too difficult, provided you remember to release the T-foil rudder before doing
so. We did remember, but when we bore the boat away, the bow went down
alarmingly and it looked like it was never going to come up. Eventually, after
a lot of green water piling through the cockpit, we did tame the beast. Geoff
and I looked round at each other with a mix of amusement and concern. The brand
new T-foil was not behaving itself. Even on full release, the wings were not
providing enough angle to sink the transom and lift the bow. No wonder we
hadn't felt the need for too much T-foil on for the beat!
Now we had a three-mile run home to
shelter, in what would usually be lovely big waves to surf on. Now Hayling Bay
looked like a minefield. Geoff and I attempted another bear away, and this one
didn't go so well, perhaps because we'd been spooked by the first one. We
nosedived and capsized. It would be the first of many! Eventually we found a
flat spot, got the kite hoisted, and with Geoff trapezing and me sitting right
at the back of the bus inside the windward gunnel, we managed to limp downwind,
with me either ragging the kite or dramatically oversheeting it, doing anything
to prevent the boat building up to full speed.
At last, many capsizes and swims later, we
made it back to Chichester Harbour and headed straight back to Hayling to lick
our wounds, beaten back in by every other 14. Ben McGrane and Olivier Vidal
were in before us, but baffled by how anyone could ever gybe a 14 without
capsizing. Ben and Olivier are two highly accomplished 49er sailors, so they
were a bit put out that they couldn't tame the beast. They were even more put
out when they discovered that another rookie, talented 29er helm Frances Peters
with crew Neale Jones had gybed without capsizing. But then as we discovered at
the Youth Nationals earlier this year, Frances has a habit of beating the boys
at their own game.
Back to us old folk, though, and Geoff, it
transpired, had taken a nasty gash on his head during our swimathon of the past
hour. His baseball cap had long disappeared, so he had been without head
protection for our battle with the 14.
Being bald can make sailing a risky
business. Wearing a hat is a good idea, as a bald pate gives you none of the
warning signs that a good head of hair does. But Geoff tells me that your
average baseball cap can in itself be quite a risky item for a bald man to
wear. Pretty much every baseball cap you ever see has a big metal stud on the
peak of the cap. Apparently, if during a gybe the boom skims over your hat and
makes contact with the metal stud, it goes thwack into the top of your skull,
leaving you with a nasty little indentation and a not-inconsiderable headache.
Things that we folk with a full head of hair just don't need to worry about.
But some food for thought for baseball cap manufacturers out there. It appears
there is a gap in the market for a studless baseball cap for baldies like
Geoff.
So, hats off to our best known bald
sailors, the Geoff Carveths, Ian Walkers and Jez Fanstones out there. They cope
with a whole set of dangers that the more hirsute among us never have to worry
about.
Another talented baldie is Andy Budgen, who
is perhaps not as well known as 10 years ago when he conquered the Laser 5000
class with his brother Ian (slightly more hair), before they moved into the
49er class where their best result was 2nd in the 1998 world
championships. While Ian moved into professional sailing, joining GBR Challenge
for the America's Cup and then doing the Volvo Ocean Race aboard Pirates of the
Caribbean, Andy retired from full-time sailing to build his property empire in
Southampton. Now he sails a Sigma 38 for fun, although he's still in demand as
an Olympic coach to overseas 49er teams.
I've sailed with Andy a few times before
and he is one of the best out there, even now. He asked me along to do a
weekend's racing in the Laser SB3 as part of his build-up to the much
anticipated King of Cowes regatta, first prize a £40,000 Volkswagen Touareg. With
boat owner, the strapping young Alec Russell doing bow, and me sitting in the
middle, we were on a fast learning curve. Neither Andy or I had sailed a Laser
SB3 before, although Andy has a knack for very quickly picking up what makes a
boat tick.
He is extremely fussy about jib-sheeting. I
guess it was all about what he could feel through the rudder, getting the boat
balanced up so it tracked through the water nicely. In the end he had Alec
pulling the thing in as hard as it would go, basically sheeting it like an
Enterprise jib. It seemed to work. Boatspeed seemed as good as anyone's in the
fleet, although SB3s are so similar in speed it's hard to tell. They are a
great boat, and it's no wonder the class has taken off like wildfire over the
past couple of seasons.
They are not the most refined of boats, but
they're very functional and the racing is even. Downwind they go pretty well
for something with a big lump of lead hanging off the bottom. As someone said,
the SB3 is a keelboat upwind and a dinghy downwind, which is a pretty fair
description. It plods along upwind at about 6 knots from a Force 2 upwards, and
can probably almost match windspeed downwind in light to moderate conditions,
getting somewhere north of 20 knots' boatspeed in a good breeze.
The other thing that impresses me about
Andy Budgen is his sixth sense for knowing how close to the line he is. I'm a
stickler for getting a transit on the shore whenever possible, but Andy seems
to have an innate sense of where the imaginary dotted line is, even when he
can't see the ends of the line. We got excellent starts most of the time, which
is gold dust in a fleet where boatspeed is even and every metre is hard fought.
Laser SB3 hasn't quite tempted me away from the exhilaration of
high-performance skiff sailing, but it was nice to be able to watch the race
unfold in slow motion for a change, and to able to track the windshifts on a
compass without worrying about keeping the boat upright.
Also, three is a very nice number. Two crew
is great, but three is better. In fact some teams, including Geoff Carveth's,
sail the SB3 four-up, which you're allowed to do provided you come in under the
270kg max weight limit. You can have some really good banter going between
three or four of you, and there's an added team work element that comes into it
with an extra person or two. It's a shame there aren't more three-people
dinghies around. Of course, there's the 18-foot skiff, but somehow I can't ever
see that going mainstream! I'm thinking more of a three-person GP14 or RS400.
Well, I suppose I'm talking about a Laser SB3 without a big lead stabiliser
under the water. But the lead bulb, in the end, is part of what makes the SB3
so popular. It is a great leveller, in every sense of the word.