They tell us that Gruntled won overall but how should we know, we were just focused on # 11, Flying Circus – for 68 miles and ohhh, about 8 hours. The fact that we were just about the last fleet to start must have helped us a ton as we had building breeze the whole way. This last start is commonly reserved for the big boats and it was great to upset the pursuit style races for a change as the earliest starters waited for us in San Pablo Bay.
Though the new rules allowed for us to roar up to the line with our chute up, Bart decide it was too hard to judge crossing the line perfectly at the gun, so BANG, we hoisted on starboard as the furthest east boat, and we were off and running (hehee) on a gentle flood with the other 25 Moores.
10 layers deep
San Pablo was a 5-knot affair with many lurking potholes of no wind that were gaping and trying to swallow us up, but we were stronger than that yesterday. Puffy low clouds formed over the coastal range and, to me, this meant the breeze was filling.
Duel at the front
And fill she did. The Straits and then past the Explosive Zone were a 9-knot deal which is nice but not really enough to get the heart rate up. Then, we had an explosion of our own. Having led the fleet to this point, our keel had an explosion with a sleeping mud lump. Luckily, this was mid-gybe and the boat flopped to the get-off-the-bank side and we were off again - but 200 yards behind Melinda Erkelens and Keith Stahnke on the Circus. To catch em, let alone pass em again, was an impossibility that I just left in my head, all the while verbally agreeing to “Just PASS EM!” as Bart screamed.
Green # 19 is a bit of a faker as its predecessor is 17A, not 17 so we were setup a bit early for the douse and reach, but a deliberate and unrushed turn was the way we were to pass em – for the first time. As is so often the case, building wind kinda sneaks up. It could have been the jalapeno and lime chips or the thought of a freezing cold beer in the furnace that we had entered but the wind had snuck up on us all the same and we were now roaring along. Whatever the reason, it was honking, the borrowed/stolen jibtop was pulling hard and our boat speed was just about 12 so we were happyish. The ish because nobody likes following a Circus. We were still behind and had a jump on the other Moores so this race was ours to lose and we were winning at that.
Time to bear away and hoist and, like one of those kazoo-type party favors that unroll to become suddenly rigid and noisy when you blow into them, we were off and they … weren’t. A slow unraveling of the bird’s nest that was their spinnaker was just what we needed - and we were BACK.
Ship is the origin of the familiar and much used word shi&. We know this because we screamed “Ship!”, just like they did on English naval vessels when a pirate ship was sighted. We screamed it because an outbound freighter was coming and we had to quickly make a plan.
When ahead, the trope is always don’t split with the Circus, but we could not pull this off and the Circus were able to work to other side and right back into the lead. Well SHIP! And %^$#@**! That was not the plan. My silent thoughts resolved that there could not be a better boat to lose to and I was spreading out the pillows so as to get comfortable with the reality that we were second and were surely going to finish that way. A lucky second ship encounter and the Circus let us hug the left shore while they went right and we slid past them to win our fabulous fleet by just one minute and eleven seconds.
The highlight is, of course, that we are back out racing and gathering new stories that will draw a smile when we finally grow up and sit on the nice rocker on the porch - like most people our age.
Special thanks to Stockton Sailing Club, our RYC Yacht Club and the inspired people who built these wonderful boats some 45 years ago!
PS best sighting: Bloom County going warp speed with their green Asso kite pulling them out of Pittsburg as if their tail was on fire.
PPS: The txt this AM from Melinda Erkelens’ husband, Billy (who was unable to sail the Ditch due to other sailing commitments in Spain) was just three great words: “Nice work jerk!”
let’s not get into that
my Bro’s got this
Delta Ditch: couple o’ friends and a some beers on a hot summer day
the Veterans
Nellybelly: the honorary Moore 24
Mr Clean
the Moore 24 Concourse d’Elegance winner
ants marching
the New Kids on the Block
proper Ditch form