In our previous column in these pages, outlining the extensive refit project of my father and his boat partner’s 1990s-vintage Melges 30, we went in depth about the deck hardware and running rigging choices we made with the help of Harken and Marlow. The next and final phase involved slightly more sophisticated steps: the electronics and then the deck detailing, which brought the boat to its current status as one fine handicap race yacht.

We decided not to invest in the older instruments that came with the boat. It was an opportunity for new technology.  Not an inexpensive proposition but a necessary one. Our goal as a 30-foot sportboat is mainly local PHRF racing with some traveling in the future. As such, we wanted good instruments, but we didn’t need a TP52 set up. Matt Fries, the go-to at B&G and Navico instruments worked with us closely to help develop a system that provided the information we wanted without breaking the bank.

First, the hidden items. We chose the Triton Edge Sailing processor. This unit is small and light, but more importantly it quickly and accurately processes input from multiple components. And there are plenty of other components feeding into it and the ‘backbone’. One thing I like about these new systems is the NMEA 2000 connections. It makes it very easy to add components or change out parts.

First into the backbone is the knot meter. We chose the DST-810. This is a wired paddlewheel with depth built in. As we sail in shallow water often, we thought depth would be very helpful. It is a “triducer,” meaning it is a paddle wheel, depth sensor and temperature sensor all in one. It saves us another hole in the bottom of the boat.

Second is the wind. We opted for the WS710 Wind Sensor package. We chose a wired set up as I thought it would be less prone to issues on a rig that was rarely taken down. It’s on a vertical carbon wand to get the instrument above the upwash of the rig. Along with this package you need the WS700 Wired interface. This small box converts wind data coming down from the wand into NMEA2000 so it can be plugged into the backbone.

Third is the GPS. Just as I use on the J/70, the ZG100 GPS feeds all of our GPS info to the system. It also has a compass and can provide heel and trim. However, there is an upgraded compass that I also use on the J/70 and that brings us to the fourth item into the backbone. The Precision 9 Compass is more accurate and faster than the compass that is in the ZG100. We’ve mounted both of these low in the boat under the cockpit. We’ve also tried to keep them away from any metals or magnetic items.

Also plugged into the backbone are three displays. Down below we have a chart plotter. We needed something small and chose the Zeus 7 Chartplotter. With a 7-inch color display it does everything we need. I had some issues getting the charts to populate but Paul Wilson at B&G got me sorted and up and running.

Outside on the mast we chose two different displays. The first is an amazing bright display that will show just about anything in any color that we want. It is the Nemesis 9 Sailing Display. We’ve set it up with bigger numbers that are visible from the back of the boat. Boatspeed, heading, and true wind direction, along with true wind angle and heel is our current pick. But we can set up pages with various information that is easily toggled through. This display is so customizable, I can even set the displayed numbers to change colors if they get to a certain number. For example, I can set the heel number as green and have it turn red if the boat heels more than 24 degrees.

Underneath the Nemesis 9 display is the H5000 Graphic display. This has many functions as well. We can display navigational information, set the start timer, ping the start line ends, see distance to the line. We can display all wind information, cross track info, and a graphic display of true wind angles, apparent wind angles and see set and drift which is helpful on areas of current. I find this unit intuitive and easy to learn.

As is the case with all instruments, good input equals good output. In order to calibrate them we took the time to find a place with flat water and little to no wind or current. First is the compass swing, which consists of around a 400-degree turn, not exceeding 3.5 degrees per second. Second is the boatspeed calibration. We do multiple runs and fine tune the boatspeed to match the speed over ground from the GPS. We do this in two opposite directions to ensure that there is no current impacting the calibration. Once we are happy with the boatspeed we make sure that the compass offset is matching the Course over Ground. Often, the heading needs to be offset a few degrees to make up for small installation errors. Later, we had to go in and adjust the angle of the wind instrument for similar reasons. All in all, however, it’s a robust package with seemingly endless options and possibilities.

The next item I love is the soft deck. We use these on the cockpit floors of nearly every boat I sail. Maybe I am lucky to sail in warmer climates, but I sail the small boats like the J/70 barefoot when I can. For the Melges 30, Dan Kaseler and our friends at Raptor Deck up in the Pacific Northwest helped us out. As there was no template for a Melges 30 cockpit, we had to improvise. They sent us a mylar template from a Melges 32 and I was able to cut it and tape it back together in the pattern we desired. Raptor Deck then took the template and scanned it. Voila, they were able to cut us a beautiful soft deck that matched the nonskid color of the deck above it. And if that wasn’t helpful enough, I was able to make a template of our damaged keel plate under the hull and they were able to scan it and create a proper Delrin keel plate.

For our metal work, we are blessed to have Steve Harrison in San Diego. When in need of high-end custom metal work on a racing sailboat, Harrison is a friend indeed. We wanted to beef up the stern pulpits with more support connecting to the cockpit floor like the Melges 32s. Steve was able modify them so they feel very strong when you grab them our hike against them. We also added knees to the stanchions to keep them from bending and flexing.

My father and his boat partner, Robert Plant, have had a long relationship with the folks at Ullman Sails Newport Beach. Kenny Cooper who runs the plotter at the loft also sails with them regularly as the primary upwind trimmer so it made sense to get a couple of sails from Ullman. The boat came with a new running kite but the reaching kites needed to be replaced. We got a 1.5A for light air VMG sailing and a 3A for the windier reaching. In addition, we got a couple of staysails to help that random leg reach speed.

Another area with a lot of clever thinking was the outboard storage. Like many small raceboats, we have an outboard that needs to be stored below when not on the transom. We didn’t like the idea of cutting a hole on the cockpit floor and adding a hatch. The solution was to splice a Dyneema bridle around the engine so we could hook a halyard to it and pick the engine up off the stern. This system also makes it incredibly easy to lower the outboard into the interior. My father and his partner also built a trolley of sorts under the companionway that the outboard lays on. Recycling boat parts is a favorite pastime of my father, so the trolley consists of a pair of old Harken sheaves from an old IOR 50-footer. When stowing the outboard, the halyard is eased until the head of the engine rests in a mesh basket. The system works well and saves the crew from that back breaking agony of moving a 40-pound engine around down below.

After sailing the boat a half-dozen times, it was a relief to not experience any major issues. My father and Robert have really enjoyed getting back out on the water with their friends as well as being competitive. They have enjoyed the process of the rebuild, the creativity required to mess around and develop systems, and the friendship they’ve shared over the years. It certainly helps to have great friends in the industry. We were able to ask a lot of questions and gather ideas from all over. As it was a labor of love, there was no real timeline and time could be taken to “measure twice and cut once.” This is a pace I highly recommend to anyone embarking on an extensive refit. It can be tempting to rush a project in order to be ready for the next season, but it’s better to have it done right come race day than troubleshooting mistakes mid-season.

The icing on the cake was qualifying for and then winning our local 2025 Dana Point Harbor Championships. The boat performed great and all systems worked as designed. Proof again that the hard work is worth the rewards, and more importantly, that old raceboats can definitely enjoy a second life and we have a great industry with all the tools and solutions to make it happen one way or the other.

The post <i>Still Crazy</i>’s Sportboat Rehab: The Final Touches appeared first on Sailing World.

Scenario 1: Leeward boat (Red) plays the winning move by shutting the windward boat (Blue) out.

With a well-timed tack just barely on, or slightly shy of the layline, Red can force the windward boat (Blue) to tack shy of the layline, shutting out Blue from the mark. This can end badly for Blue, who has to either slow down and unhook to tack behind, or jibe around. Either way, they lose significant distance, and worse, they are now well in the zone on port. This is not a good look if there is a wall of starboard tackers coming.

But it’s not so easy for Red either. To make it stick, first, they have to tack in just the right spot— shy of the layline and close enough to just make it. This is not without some risk. If they tack too shy, they won’t make it either, and there will be two boats trying to tack or jibe onto port in the zone. We know how messy that can get. 

Rules matter here, too, so as soon as Red starts their tack (passes head to wind), Rule 13 says they are the give-way boat until they complete their tack (are on their closehauled starboard course.) Rule 10 (port-starboard) says they now have the right-of-way. But Blue need not anticipate or take any action until the tack is complete. And even then, Red is not completely in the right yet. Rule 15 says that once they acquire right-of-way, they need to give Blue room to keep clear. In short, Red needs to get onto a starboard closehauled course with enough time for Blue to get out of the way.

Correctly played, Red’s powerful offensive move effectively shuts the door on Blue.

Scenario 2: Leeward Boat (Red) Delays Tack or Overstands, Allowing Blue Inside Overlap

Red may not be savvy to the above shut-out move and sail too far, or they may know the move and just misjudge and leave room for Blue to tack in there. I won’t spend much time on this because either way, Red just plain blew it. As long as Blue can tack to leeward without breaking the rules, and they can lay the mark, they should be able to round. Red has no choice but to keep clear as a windward boat and because Blue has mark room. Blue wins that chess exchange.

Scenario 3: Windward Boat Executes the Shutout

The third scenario is my favorite; it’s the “shutout” move where Blue takes full control of its destiny well before the layline, and well before either boat tacks. Blue needs to be thinking a few moves ahead and recognizes that Red, if they tack in that perfect tight layline spot, could shut them out (as in Scenario 1).  

The shutout begins with Blue aggressively bearing off to a position still to windward, but much closer to Red, preventing Red from completing its tack without fouling. By the time Red would start its tack, Blue would already be in a position where Red could not finish the tack while providing room to keep clear (Rules 13 and 15).

An important practical consideration during this maneuver is communication. Since Blue’s move might catch Red by surprise (as Red is likely focused on the starboard layline, approaching boats, or the mark itself), it’s smart—though not required by the rules—for Blue to hail, “Don’t tack too close!” with enough time for Red to see and digest the situation. This hail alerts Red to Blue’s presence and intention. Red should realize they have no viable option but to wait for Blue to tack, then tack and follow them around the mark.

The bear-away is the key to success; it has to be done right. Blue needs to do it soon enough to leave time to communicate, and close enough to be effective, but not so early and close that they risk slowing considerably in Red’s backwind.

Now let’s add the next layer of complexity: we’re in the zone. If Blue tacks outside the zone, as in our example, they have mark room and can aggressively use that (short of tacking) to get around the mark. But when Blue tacks in the zone, Rule 18.3 puts significant limitations on their actions. Even though they don’t have mark room, they are leeward boat (Rule 11) and Red can’t bear off on them to prevent them from going in there. But Rule 18.3, puts significant limitations on Blue’s actions, they can’t head Red up above closehauled. In a subtle update for the 2025-2028 rules that came out this year, this applies whether or not the original leeward boat, Red, tacked before or in the zone. In short, if Blue tacks outside the zone, Blue can do just about anything it wants to (short of tacking) to get around the mark making Red’s job of shutting them out harder. But if Blue tacks in the zone, Blue’s options to head Red up are limited, making it easier for Red to shut them out.

Occasionally, I use the shutout in the open course, not just on a starboard layline. Suppose I want to lead Red back, but I don’t want to tack just yet because of traffic or something like that, I can then hold them off from tacking for a bit. Wherever used, I love this move because Blue uses the rules to successfully reverse the control dynamic and put themselves in the drivers seat.  It’s a cool move to have in your tactical toolbox.

The post Tactics: Shutout at the Weather Mark appeared first on Sailing World.

The first twilight race of the year is a special time. After thinking about sailing and racing all winter long, we finally get to go ­evening racing again. My wife, Libby, has a J/70 that she races on Lake Washington, and sometimes I get to tag along. Our first Wednesday-night outing was the start of her season, and excitement was high.

However, when we arrive at the boat and start rigging, we discover a major issue: There is no tail to the jib halyard. The thin rope used to hoist the jib is lost inside the mast and nowhere to be seen. There is only one approach to fixing this problem: We’ll have to pull out the halyard from the top of the rig, rerun it down inside the mast, and then fish it out through the narrow halyard exit slot in the mast wall. Fortunately, we have more than an hour until the start, so we are confident that we can make it happen and not miss a thing. We’re darn well going to try anyway, because we really don’t want to miss the season opener. 

One of Libby’s crew is 20-year-old Esther Goodell. She is smart, capable, eager and fearless. As I am preparing to get hoisted aloft on a fender repurposed as a bosun’s chair, Goodell volunteers to go up instead. Let’s see…her 110 pounds or my 180 pounds?

Yeah, sending Goodell up is a much better idea. So, we haul her to the hounds carrying a weighted string to feed into the mast. After a couple of attempts and some fiddling with it, she finally gets the string to drop all the way down. Then comes too many unsuccessful attempts to fish the string out of the slot, until Libby finally snags it with a hook and pulls it out. Success! We are definitely making the start.

Not so fast, cowboy. As we try to pull the halyard through, the messenger becomes disconnected, and we are back to where we started. We have to go through the whole process again, but soon enough, we have a working halyard, and finally we can lower Goodell to the deck.

Sails go up, and we’re off the dock with 20 minutes to spare. Spirits are high until we go for our practice spinnaker set. The halyard skies to the top of the mast, and the spinnaker falls into the water. In our haste to get going, we had tied a poor knot, and now our kite halyard is at the top of the mast.

After a brief discussion of our options, we head back to the dock to try to tip over the boat and recover the halyard. I have seen this done with other J/70s, but I’ve never done it myself. Turns out, it’s an exciting exercise but perfectly doable. We start pulling the boat over onto its side using the main halyard and pulling on the shrouds. It takes the full weight of the crew pulling like crazy until we get it far enough over to grab the runaway halyard.

With the mainsail back up, we’re in business and hustling to get out to the racecourse. But by now we’ve missed the first race of the night. Bummer, but we were good to go for the second and final race. We sail well and get a fifth place in the 27-boat fleet. 

While our DNC and fifth-place scores might not seem that great, for Libby’s team, it’s a positive night. We’ve worked together to overcome multiple challenges. It would have been easy to give up and say it was all too difficult, but we’ve persevered, kept a positive attitude, and problem-solved our way to making a fun second race. It’s amazing how adversity makes us stronger and brings a team closer together. The lessons for us are obvious: Think through solutions as a team, don’t give up, and take your time when tying halyard knots.

A Skied Halyard Recovery Kit 

If you’ve never accidentally sent a halyard to the top of the rig, congratulations. It’ll happen eventually. Getting back into action requires the right tools at the ready. A few essentials in an onboard tool kit, or in the dock box, are all you need. Also, to make the job easier, have a reeving splice in the tail end of every halyard.

• Length of small-diameter Dyneema that’s
  at least twice the mast height
• 6- to 12-inch section of bike chain
• Sewing kit with whipping twine
• Electrical tape
• Seizing wire to make a hook
• Bright, narrow-beam flashlight

The post Recovering Skied Halyards: Lessons From the Racecourse appeared first on Sailing World.

Racing sailors frequently encounter situations where port and starboard tackers converge on the open racecourse. While the rules clearly give right of way to the starboard tacker, there’s often a calculated game of chicken that can happen during these encounters. Understanding how to navigate through the intersection can make the difference between maintaining your tactical advantage and losing critical boatlengths.

Tack or Cross? It’s Starboard’s Decision

When two boats are approaching on opposite tacks, the starboard-tack boat has right of way while the port tack boat must keep clear. We all know the rules are as simple as that. However, the starboard tacker may have a tactical or strategic play to make: maintain the right of way by making the port boat tack or duck, or waive that right and allow the port boat to cross.

When the port-tack boat hails and asks: “Tack or Cross?” What’s the starboard tack’s boat best course of action?

“The short answer is, ‘It depends,’” explains Sailing World Racing Editor, Mike Ingham. “But I love hearing that hail as a starboard tacker because that means they’re deferring to me for my choice. So, I can either say, ‘tack,’ and I can keep going that way…or I say ‘cross.’”

This decision often comes down to the starboard boat’s broader race strategy. If the starboard tacker wants to continue in their current direction, having the port boat tack in front can be detrimental, forcing the starboard boat into dirty air or requiring a double tack to escape.

“Often when I want to keep going, the last thing I want is to get stuck in somebody’s dirty air or have to double tack if I want to keep going,” Ingham notes. In such cases, allowing the port boat to cross means giving up a small immediate advantage for a larger strategic gain.

Tactical Considerations for Starboard Tackers

The key consideration is whether the port tacker could execute a successful lee bow tack if forced to tack. This maneuver, where the port boat tacks in front and to leeward of the starboard boat, can significantly disrupt the starboard boat’s progress.

“Let’s say you lose a half a boatlength in the tack,” Ingham explains. “That means they’ve got to be at least halfway in front of you, a half a boatlength in front of you. If it’s a full boatlength loss per tack, they have to be almost crossing to pull off a lee bow.”

In most cases where a port tacker asks “tack or cross,” the situations involve small ducks that cost the starboard boat very little while preserving their tactical plan. The starboard tacker might lose less than half a boatlength but can continue sailing in their preferred direction.

Clear Communication is Critical

The language and timing of communication between boats is paramount in these situations. Port tackers must hail early and clearly to give starboard boats time to assess and respond.

“You better say it—you can’t just say it once quietly, and you can’t say it late,” Ingham emphasizes. “Very early, you have to repeat yourself…‘tack or cross, tack or cross.’ Maybe even sooner.”

Body language also plays an important role. “When I’m doing it, if I’m in that port boat, I am looking straight at them, and I’m also taking my arm, and I’m pointing through…You hear a hail and see my arm, you know I’m asking, even if it’s noisy.”

For larger boats with crews, preparation is essential. The entire team should be ready for either scenario before the hail is even made.

“If they say ‘tack or cross’ or don’t say anything at all, the starboard tacker has no obligation to respond,” Ingham points out. “If I’m the port tacker, it’s a courtesy, and I am fully ready to do that tack instead, and the team knows that.”

Taking Control as the Starboard Tacker

Rather than waiting for the port tacker to initiate the conversation, experienced sailors often recommend that starboard tackers dictate the action.

“I’ve done that a lot,” says Ingham. “I’m the starboard tacker. They don’t say anything… I’m like, well, I really don’t want them to leebow. And I’ll just say, ‘cross, cross, cross.’”

This proactive approach gives the starboard boat control of the situation. If the starboard tacker wants to go right, they might prefer to force the port boat to tack, effectively taking their lane and bouncing them to the left side of the course.

“If you don’t do that, it might look like this: you tack instead of pinging them, you want to go right… and maybe you pinch them off eventually, or maybe you’re now at their mercy,” Ingham explains. “Much better off flushing them out early. It’s a really nice move to essentially take their lane and leave yourself options.”

Understanding the Rules and Cultural Norms

Interestingly, the racing rules don’t specifically address this practice of asking “tack or cross.” As Ingham points out, “The rule book has no provision for this directly. There’s nothing that says if you waive your rights, then this happens. So this is purely a cultural thing in our sport that’s practiced quite regularly and efficiently.”

This does create a gray area if conflicts arise, however. If a starboard tacker allows a port boat to cross but then a collision occurs—perhaps because the starboard boat couldn’t bear away quickly enough—the basic right-of-way rules still apply.

“For the most part, I think that the starboard still has right of way,” notes Ingham. “So, really, you’re taking a little bit of a chance if you’re the port tacker doing this, but it’s tried and true. I can’t think of a race day that I don’t use it.”

These interactions build the community aspects of racing. When you allow another boat to cross, you’re creating goodwill that might be returned later.

“It’s a little bit of a live and let live sort of thing,” Ingham observes. “If you just wave somebody through, they’re pretty happy… And next time that crossing comes and it’s your turn, they’re more likely to say, ‘cross, cross, cross.’ He let me through once.”

This reciprocity benefits everyone on the racecourse, making for better racing and fewer conflicts.

Advice for Less Experienced Racers

New sailors sometimes feel intimidated when more experienced competitors hail “tack or cross.” Ingham emphasizes that the hail is merely a request, not a demand.

“I ask all the time. And I’m never trying to make them do something they don’t want to do,” he clarifies. “I’m always trying to give them an option, and I’m not expecting them to give that to me. And I’m certainly not angry with them if they don’t.”

Understanding this can help newer sailors feel more comfortable making their own tactical decisions rather than feeling pressured to comply with more experienced racers.

The post Tack or Cross or Game of Chicken? appeared first on Sailing World.

Many sailors believe that it’s best to avoid the port-tack layline whenever possible, simply because the rules are tricky. More often than not, the port-tacker leaves the protest room disappointed. But that doesn’t mean the port-tack approach is off the table. Top tacticians use it as a way to get a quick jump at the top of the beat. It’s either gain or pain; what’s your preference?

When I think back to all of my riskier weather-mark port-tack approaches, I usually think of gaining nicely on the fleet (happy times), but I recently made a mistake, and the ­penalty was painful. I’ll also never forget when one of my skippers recently asking me why we don’t approach on the port-tack layline more often. He said that he had seen our competitors taking advantage of it and coming out strong. His question surprised me because most skippers don’t like being guided into the weather mark on port—with no rights and everyone yelling at them not to do it.

When the opportunity does present itself to do so, however, there are a few considerations that will help you get in and out clean and free. First, let’s briefly touch on the rules that come into play when tacking in the zone, keeping in mind that the rules are created to discourage boats from jamming in at the weather mark. We’ve all seen how ugly that gets, especially in big fleets.

If you approach the top of a beat on port tack and inside the three-boatlength mark zone, know that the rules are stacked against you. No one else around? All good. But if there is a starboard-tack boat already in the zone and fetching the mark, you’re not allowed to tack too close. If you do pull off a clean tack, you cannot then force the starboard tacker to sail above a closehauled course.

That second part is what makes it so risky. Even if you pull off a clean tack and they luff above closehauled because they think you were too close, you will most likely lose the protest. There is a nuance of the rule, however. If two boats approach on port tack, inside the zone, and they both tack from port to starboard, it’s OK if the trailing boat has to go above closehauled after the tack because you both have tacked in the zone.

OK, enough of the rules. Let’s get into it.

To help convert your port-tack approaches into gains instead of pain, there are three big considerations. The first is a concept I’ve adopted called “Tim’s Lane.” The second is what I’ll call “Three Versus One.” The third consideration is how to identify when to apply the ­previous two. 

First to Tim’s Lane. I was once fortunate to be on a US Sailing Team conference call led by Tim Wadlow, a two-time Olympian and College Sailor of the Year. He spoke for 45 minutes on this exact topic, and a big takeaway was to approach the weather mark at the 4- to ­6-boatlength zone, which takes away any potential rules issues. In Tim’s Lane, there is often space beneath starboard tackers that are overstood. Even if you tack below a few starboard boats in this area, you have only a few lengths to sail in bad air before rounding the mark, which is definitely better than coming in late to a wall of boats.

The Three-Versus-One-Tack philosophy takes into consideration how boats are stacked up on the starboard layline. Imagine a line of boats, all overstanding the mark, hipping up on one another like geese flying south for the winter. That last goose is always way overstood. Tactics 101 tells us that the earlier we get to the starboard-tack layline, the more things can go wrong. If we get headed, we might not lay the mark, and when it later comes time to tack, there’s nowhere to go, so it requires two quick tacks to get around the mark, which is slow. If we get lifted when on starboard-tack layline, we overstand. Finally, if another boat crosses and tacks on you early on the starboard layline, you have a long way to go in bad air with no escape.

The other approach is to plan out three tacks: tacking 50 to 100 meters below the starboard-­tack layline, sailing up to the top of the triangle with more options, and then completing two more tacks to get around the mark as you get closer to the mark. I have noticed that the good teams most often opt for the three-tack approach versus one. This is especially true in boats that tack efficiently and quickly. If your boat is slow to tack and accelerate, one tack versus three might be the smarter play.

Because the three-tack option is often best, it’s important to have solid tacks. With great boathandling, you can three-tack without much of a loss. The only downside is that the rules come into play if your third tack ends up being in the zone. The no-stress gain-potential strategy in a big fleet is usually the three-tack approach—putting that second tack into Tim’s Lane.

Are there times when you can approach right on the port-tack layline and actually tack around the mark in the zone? Absolutely. Feel free to do so when you’re in the front of the fleet or in the very back where the traffic is likely clear. Also, sometimes a gap will magically appear, and tacking around is drama-free. These gaps often present themselves at the front of the fleet or on the second lap, when the fleet is more spread out.

In a big fleet, the first weather mark is where port-tack trouble often appears, especially if you are in the middle of the pack. Here, you have to make the difficult decision of when and how to insert yourself into the lineup. Consider traffic density on the starboard-tack layline, and what might happen when other port-tackers eventually come knocking and looking for a hole. When you get to the top of the course, take a good look around for groups of boats and consider how they are all flowing into the top mark from both directions. It helps to visualize this from a drone perspective to picture how everyone will come together.  

If you have a few hundred meters to go before getting to the top mark and you tack—let’s say 80 meters below starboard layline—you can look over your shoulder and watch the gains happening as boats stack up and start slowing down one another, pinching, overstanding, and sliding sideways. Typically, any boats that are crossing ahead of you in this situation will continue all the way to the starboard-­tack layline, giving you a free lane all the way up the beat. As they drive themselves into the traffic, you can instantly make big gains. The key is to keep monitoring the starboard layline, making your move before it’s too late.

Ultimately, if you find yourself approaching at the top of the beat near the port-tack layline and the nearby starboard layline area looks crowded, the best thing you can do is identify the safest spot to insert, and if it’s back a few boats in the parade, do an early duck and then turn back up so that you are closehauled before you engage the boat you need to leebow.

What often gets people in trouble is sailing to starboard layline, realizing there’s no space, bearing away hard, then sailing downwind looking for an opening. When it does finally come, they have to do a 180-degree turn, which almost always results in a terrible leebow tack or ­fouling another boat.

The smarter move is to look under the boom, identify the boat that you want to leebow, bear away early before you get to them, and then head back up into a nice, smooth high-speed turn into the tack.

No matter what you do, commit to getting around the weather mark clean, with no penalties, so you can live to make your gains later in the race. A sacrificial duck of a few boatlengths will always be faster than a pair of penalty turns. Plus, you don’t want a reputation as the one who sticks it in at the weather mark every time, causing nothing but pileups and flaring tempers.

The post Port Tacker’s Guide To The Weather Mark appeared first on Sailing World.

The above video illustration shows the steps of a proper reach-through escape. The windward boat (blue) is jammed up on the hip of the red boat and going slow. A viable escape option is to bear off and reach through the red boat’s wind shadow, passing behind and into a clear lane to leeward. To make it work, blue should aggressively reach, quickly passing close to the red boat’s stern where the wind shadow is narrowest. Once clear of red’s wind shadow, blue can head up again to its close-hauled course. As long as blue’s apparent-wind direction (as shown by its telltales) is pointing below and not at red, blue’s air is clear. This new clear lane below is surprisingly close, only a boatlength or so to leeward of red.

How to Escape

With a quick look, you see a gap below the leeward boat. This is where the reach-through escape becomes invaluable. Instead of suffering in dirty air or tacking into a mess,  you can bear off, pass behind the leeward boat, then reestablish yourself in a clean lane to leeward. 

Bearing off, you want to use that reaching speed to pop through quickly so you don’t linger in the leeward boat’s wind shadow too long.  Aggressively bear off with both tiller and body weight, make sure the vang is set right so that you don’t twist the mainsail too much, then ease the main and jib to match your sailing angle.  The whole process should take just a few boatlengths.

Timing is critical. You have to bear off while you can still duck close behind the other boat’s stern where the wind shadow is narrowest. If you hesitate and wait too long passing further back, you will need to sail through a much larger wind shadow. If you pass through close and quickly, you may lose only a half a boatlength. If you wait longer, the losses will be significant. If all goes well, you’ll end up approximately two boatlengths to leeward (the distance needed to clear the wind shadow) and about one and a half boatlengths behind.

How do you know when you’ve successfully cleared the wind shadow? Your telltales, masthead fly, and the feel of the wind on your face provide the answer. What you care about is where your apparent wind is. If your apparent wind points below and in front of that boat, you’re free.

There are three options when you are stuck above a safe-leeward boat, and all of them have a loss associated with them.  Sticking it out is a slow burn loss.  Stay there for 30 seconds and maybe you lose a boatlength or two before.  A double tack, even executed perfectly without traffic considerations, could well cost you a boatlength each tack. Tack into traffic and you could lose many boatlengths.  The half boatlength loss of a well-executed reach through does not seem so bad in comparison.

Assuming you want to continue on, the strategic advantages of the reach-through extends beyond the immediate position gain. You clear your air quickly, avoid getting tangled in fleet traffic, and maintain your preferred strategic direction. Most importantly, you regain the ability to put your head down and sail at full speed.

The post The Reach-Through Escape: How to Get a Better Lane appeared first on Sailing World.

This story originally appeared in the June issue of Sailing World, June 2010

The day before the first race of the 2009 Melges 32 Gold Cup in Fort Lauderdale, the kick-off to the class’s winter series, it blew 25 knots with big waves. By the first race, the wind dropped to 5 knots, with leftover 2-foot waves coming at 40 degrees to the right of the wind. This made one tack dead into the waves. Each time a boat slammed into a wave, it would then have to reaccelerate. A slight lift or a little more pressure pushed the bow just above the slamming angle and allowed that team to take off. Anyone caught in a light spot or a header stopped dead, as footing meant heading directly into the teeth of the waves.

Most venues don’t have such extreme differences between the wind and wave direction, but it’s not unusual, even on an small, inland lake, for one tack to feel considerably better, or worse, or simply different than the other. On one tack, the waves might be right on the bow, and you’re banging into them—”chopping wood.” On the other tack, the waves are pushing the boat sideways. Clearly, the wind and waves are not aligned, and if your boat is set up identically for both tacks—jib leads in the same place, backstay and sheet tension the same—you’ll be paying a big price in the speed department.

To be fast on both tacks, the most important sail setup considerations are depth and twist. There are other considerations, but these are the two most important ones and the two you can most easily adjust for each tack. I think about it this way: when the waves are not aligned with the wind, you need to set up the sails with more twist and greater depth on one tack.

Stay out of the woodshed

At the Gold Cup that day, port tack was right into the waves, so we set up the sails with twist and a fair amount of depth. If you only let the sheet out to twist the sail, you’ll lose too much power. That’s why we need deeper sails. Think of this as the “wave mode.” Here’s what you can do, from the back of the boat forward.

With the main, you want the clew to be further to windward and the top of the sail a little more open. Start by moving the traveler to windward. Ease the mainsheet a little to open the top of the leech, ease the backstay slightly to add depth to the top two-thirds of the sail, and ease the outhaul to kick the lower battens to windward a little bit and provide slightly more depth down low. On a boat like a J/24, you’re playing the backstay, traveler, and mainsheet—that whole loop—from tack to tack, so you’re always balancing those three controls. If it’s rough, you’re moving the traveler up, easing the backstay a little, and easing the sheet slightly.

If you were observing from behind the boat and looking at the sail, instead of seeing a relatively straight leech, as you would see in smooth water conditions, you’d now see the bottom corner-the clew of the sail-a little further to windward, the top of the leech a little more to leeward, and the middle of the leech in the same spot as it would be with a straight leech. The rougher it is, the more we need to bring to windward the bottom of the leech while opening up the top. Twist the leech off, and then make the sail deeper by easing the backstay, and you’ll have the same amount of power as the flat-water setup except you’ll have a twisted leech profile that will be more forgiving.

Once the main is set, we match the jib shape to that. On the Melges 32, we kicked the jib lead forward an inch or two and eased the jib sheet. Moving the jib lead forward has the same effect on the jib as easing the outhaul has on the main—it adds depth to the bottom of the sail. Easing the jib sheet produced a similar result to moving the main traveler to windward—the top twisted off a little more. The upper jib leech was at about the same spot on the spreaders, maybe a little more open, but there was more overall twist, and the lower leech kicked slightly to windward. That “return” to windward of the bottom part of the jib shoots the wind back into the main a little more. If we can also inhaul a bit, we do that as well.

On the fast tack

After pounding into waves on one tack, the other seemed quiet and fast, so we set the boat up for the 5 knots of wind, but as if the sea state was flat: a straight leech for both the jib and main. Tighten the backstay and pull on a lot of sheet, tightening the leech, and lower the traveler. This is the “flat-water mode.”

Remember, you want to keep the middle of the sail in the same position as when sailing straight into the chop, but close the top leech and straighten the bottom leech so that there is less overall twist. Jib leads on this tack should be at their flat-water position, and you’ll sheet the jib a little harder to straighten the leech so that it matches the leech profile of the mainsail.

Occasionally, you might find the waves coming well to the side of the boat, almost like you’re reaching. In this situation, I carry a little more helm than I would in the flat-water mode because, when the wave hits the bow side-on, the additional helm prevents the waves from pushing the bow to leeward. To do that, sheet the main more than normal but leave the jib alone. So, as waves push the bow down, the entire mainsail leech is working to keep the boat up: the mainsail is fighting for you, and that will keep the boat sailing straight.

How much twist do you need?

For most people, the wave mode is the most challenging. As someone who spent a lot of time near the masthead over the past few years [Horton was regularly perched atop Luna Rossa’s mast in the 32nd America’s Cup challenger trials-Ed.], you think about how much the top of the mast is moving. The masthead fly is an indicator of that. Every time the bow goes down a wave, the top of the mast goes forward and the wind comes more from the bow (see diagram). You’ll see that movement reflected in the direction of the masthead fly.

Then, when the bow comes up and the mast moves aft, the masthead fly will point more to the side. When it’s wavy-and this works on every boat-watch the masthead fly as the boat is sailing upwind. As the boat pitches, the masthead fly will move. If it’s moving a lot, you need lots of depth and twist. If it’s not moving much, you really don’t need much of either.

As I look at the masthead fly moving forward and aft, I try to “freeze-frame” the two extreme positions. I think, “OK, if the wind indicator is all the way back, as in a lift, what would my mainsail look like?” The answer is that it’s like a very close reach, so you’d have the mainsheet eased and a little more depth in the sail.

When the masthead fly is forward, such as when the bow is coming down a wave and the boat appears headed, the sail would ideally be set up with a tighter leech and not much depth. Most boats can’t shift gears that quickly, so think of the sail in thirds. The top portion is the lifted part, when the mast is coming back, the middle is for power, and the bottom is the headed part, when the mast is moving forward. With that setup, part of the sail is always trimmed for the range of wind you’re seeing. The top of the sail is trimmed for the “reach’’ situation, the bottom for the “header situation;’ and the mid-leech for anything in between.

If you hit a wave, stop, and don’t accelerate very quickly, you’re probably not twisting enough. Shift into the wave mode. Another reason to move to the wave mode is when you need to be able to steer to avoid the big waves, but every time you try to put the bow down to accelerate, the boat heels way over. The flat-water setup won’t allow that amount of course variation.

When do you move back to the flat-water setup? As the boat pitches and the apparent wind changes, watch where the sail starts luffing, or breaking up. When the mast moves forward and your sail breaks up just at the top, then it’s probably too full and too twisted. And if you’re fighting to keep the boat on track because of waves coming from the side, it’s time for the flat-water mode. As a rule of thumb, I try to set up the sails with the least amount of twist that I can get away with. I’m not going to go out with a flat-water setting if it’s blowing 20 knots with waves on the bow. Inevitably, what will happen when you twist too much is that you won’t point as high. If you’re looking at photos, a good indicator that you’re twisting too much is that the middle leech has moved to leeward. This is tough to see from onboard.

When you’re two-boat testing before a race, and you’re sailing on the tack that takes you more into the waves, be sure to give it some time. Waves really affect boatspeed. You can’t just sail for 30 seconds and say, “We’re faster than that guy” or “We’re slower than that guy.” One bad wave will stop you, and one bad wave will stop the other boat. You have to go through that whole cycle of stopping, accelerating up to speed, and pointing a few times to figure out who’s actually set up correctly.

Keep in mind the two modes and how to get there. Always add depth when you’re twisting the sails. And remember, both sails work in harmony. If you adjust one, you should definitely be adjusting the other.

The post Gear Shifting for Waves appeared first on Sailing World.

Editor’s Note: Ed Adams was Senior Editor At Large for Sailing World. His story “A New Angle on Speed” was originally published in the January 1996 issue of Sailing World.

Bob Johnstone was surprised by what we learned. I wasn’t. After years of sailing “chuteless” small boats like Snipes and Stars, I knew that racing with a whisker pole was not as straightforward as it appeared. So, when we set out to test angles, speeds and PHRF sail-trim techniques onboard Johnstone’s J/42 Gannet, I was sure the results would be enlightening.

Our conclusions were put to another test one week later when Gannet entered the New York YC Chesapeake Cruise. The second race was typical. While most of the cruising canvas fleet ran wing-and-wing, limping along at a snail’s pace in 5 to 8 knots of wind, Johnstone took a different track. Instead of poling his genoa out to windward, he poled it out to leeward and reached up, sailing faster angles and jibing downwind. Gannet won the race by over 7 minutes. In fact, Gannet won all of the races, some by as much as 17 minutes.

Coming from a lifetime of sailing with spinnakers, Johnstone learned that sailing with a whisker pole can be just as much of a tactical challenge. And when done with the same attention you might give a spinnaker, the difference in performance can be astounding. You don’t need an army of crew to go fast with a whisker pole; all you need to know is which course to steer and how to trim the sails.

The Ideal Whisker Pole

The pole you’d like to use is not the same pole you’re allowed to use. The ideal pole would be of infinitely adjustable length. PHRF rating penalties, however, restrict pole length to that of a boat’s J dimension (the distance between the mast and forestay tack). This is done so that a standard spinnaker pole can double as a whisker pole.

Why is it fast to have a long, adjustable whisker pole? Take a look at how a non-spinnaker boat performs at various angles to the wind. First, picture a boat running dead downwind. At this angle, a standard-length pole is adequate for sailing with a 150-percent genoa. With the pole squared aft for running (see photo, left), the foot of the genoa is stretched just tight enough to project plenty of sail area to the wind.

Now head up onto a broad reach. As you head up, the pole must be eased forward, or the wind will get behind the leech of the genoa and cause the sail to collapse. But as the pole is eased forward, the tension on the foot relaxes, and the lower half of the sail balloons, becoming full and inefficient. As it balloons, projected area is lost.

The pole also tends to lift as it is eased forward. This eases the leech of the genoa, letting the upper portion of the sail twist out in front of the boat. Attaching the foreguy to hold the pole down, or moving the sheet lead forward, corrects over-twisting. But you’re still left with inadequate foot tension.

There are only two ways to keep the foot stretched tight as the pole is eased forward: either lengthen the pole or shorten the foot. As you would expect, lengthening the pole is preferable. If the pole could be extended to twice the length of J, you could nearly beam reach. With the sails set wing-and-wing, a pole that is 1.5 times the J dimension would still provide markedly improved speed at most reaching angles.

It’s too bad that PHRF hits you with a nasty penalty for a long pole. Since this leaves you stuck with a standard-length pole, the other option is to shorten the foot of the genoa when reaching wing-and-wing. As the pole is eased forward, a smaller genoa of full hoist would, theoretically, be faster despite what you might think. A smaller overlap wouldn’t project less area, as projection is controlled by pole length; it would present a more efficient and less ballooned shape.

In our test, we tried roller reefing the genoa to 130 percent when reaching wing-and-wing. It didn’t prove to be an advantage because we lost too much sail area in the head of the sail. The foot trimmed correctly, but the sail area aloft was simply too small — to make a smaller sail efficient at tighter angles, the sail would have to be full hoist.

In practical terms, a shorthanded, cruising canvas crew will not be able to douse and change genoas with every wind shift. They have to deal with one 150-percent sail and one undersized fixed-length pole. Hence, they also have to learn how to deal with sailing in the “dead zone.”

Dodging the Dead Zone

When sailing with a spinnaker, it never pays to aim the boat dead downwind. That’s because the boat sails so much faster when you head up. For every degree the boat turns toward a reach, the boatspeed climbs. It climbs so fast that it pays to reach back-and-forth, sailing a zig-zag jibing course toward the leeward mark. The angle chosen depends on how windy it is. But one thing holds true: the higher you sail with the spinnaker, the faster you go.

This axiom doesn’t hold for sailing with cruising canvas and a standard PHRF whisker pole. Imagine sailing on a close reach: On this point of sail, both the main sail and genoa are full and drawing with maximum pressure. Now bear off onto a beam reach. As you bear off, the leech of the genoa will fall into the wind shadow of the mainsail. The main will still draw hard, but the pressure on the genoa well soften. At this point, the wind angle is too far forward to set a standard whisker pole.

Now bear off another 15 degrees: As you do, more of the genoa becomes blanketed. Continue to head down and the genoa will eventually hang limp, with little wind hitting the luff, and this being inadequate to lift the clue (see inset photo). When this happens, you have entered the dead zone.

On this point of sail, the genoa can be filled to weather with a whisker pole. While this is faster than letting the genoa hang limp to leeward, the wind is still too far forward for the sail to fly efficiently with a short, PHRF-mandated pole.

If you bear off even further, and the whisker pole is squared, sail shape improves and the boatspeed improves. This is where sailing with cruising canvas differs from sailing with a spinnaker. As you bear off with a spinnaker, the boatspeed always drops. With a whisker pole, as you bear away from the dead zone, boatspeed climbs initially. Then, when approaching dead downwind, the speed begins to fall off again. When expressed as a “polar curve,” which plots a boat’s potential speed against its sailing angle, the dead zone appears as a hump in the curve, a point where the boat is unnaturally low on a reach (see illustration).

Let’s say you round the weather mark and set off toward the reach mark. If the course to the reach mark is in the dead zone, there are two choices: You could sail straight toward the reach mark with a whisker pole set. The genoa would balloon inefficiently because the pole is too short. The boat wouldn’t be going particularly fast, but at least it would be sailing straight line, which is the shortest course.

Alternatively, you could set the jib to leeward and reach up above the course to the mark, sailing a faster angle. Then, when positioned well to weather of the rhumbline, you could bear off and sail wing-and-wing on a broad reach to the mark at an equally fast angle. By sailing a longer distance, the dead zone is avoided. But does the extra speed make up for the extra distance? That was one of the primary questions answered in our test.

Here’s What We Learned

To chart the territory in and around the dead zone, we spent a day recording Gannet’s boatspeed at various sailing angles and with a variety of sail-trim configurations. After averaging and plotting the data, we came up with a number of conclusions. Some were surprising, like the advantage of poling the genoa out to leeward. Others were more predictable such as, when reaching wing-and-wing, roller furling the genoa doesn’t pay.

To make the lessons from the test easier to apply to real-life situations, here are some rules of thumb to follow.

Try the Pole to Leeward

When tight reaching, most sailors know that it’s fast to move the genoa sheet lead forward and outboard to the leeward rail. After bearing off further, toward a beam reach, flat-out raceboats throw up the spinnaker; they need an alternative to maintain speed. When the apparent-wind angle is aft of 80 degrees, that alternative is to pole the genoa out to leeward.

This technique works with a 150-percent genoa from apparent wind angles of 80 to 120 degrees. The pole holds the clew of the sail outboard, away from the blanket of the mainsail by tensioning the foreguy, the pole acts a vang to control genoa leech tension; but be careful not to over-vang—you don’t want the pole to drag in the water when the boat heels in a big puff.

The foreguy should be adjusted so the sail breaks evenly from head to tack as the sheet at ease. Tensioning the foreguy has an effect similar to moving the genoa lead forward: If the sail is breaking earlier at the head, tensioning, the foreguy will correct it. This setup produces far more power than “free flying” the sail without a pole in the lee of the mainsail.

At apparent wind angles of 100 to 120 degrees, the pole should be set to leeward at full length. At angles of 80 to 100 degrees, a standard pole is too long to trim the sail properly. The foot of the genoa becomes strapped when the sail is sheeted in. The solution is to shorten the effective length of the pole. Tie a loop of line through the clue of the jib, and clip the pole to the loop. Adjust the length of the loop so as to shorten the effective length of the pole 1 to 2 feet. Then, as you trim the sail, the foot will stay full enough for adequate power. (See photo beam reaching: 90 degrees apparent)

Avoid the Dead Zone

The dead zone is the reaching angle at which the genoa won’t fly properly whether it’s poled out to weather or to leeward. In the dead zone, your boatspeed suffers no matter what you try.

For boats with a 150-percent genoa and a standard pole, the dead zone should occur at apparent wind angles of 120 to 135 degrees. It can be found by poling the genoa out to leeward on a beam reach, then slowly bearing off until the sail begins to go limp. If you try to sail wing-and-wing at this angle, the pole will have to be set so far forward that the foot of the genoa will be unnaturally full.

When faced with a leg lying at an angle in this dead zone, don’t sail straight at the mark. Instead, reach high of the rhumbline, at an angle of 110 degrees, but the poled denoa lower. Then, when the bearing to the mark is such that you can fetch it at an apparent wind angle of 135 degrees, bear off and reset the pole to windward. The exception to this would be in extremely light air, when you should continue at 110 degrees until the mark could be fetched at a 110-degree angle on the opposite jibe. When this point is reached, jibe for the mark and reset the pole to leeward on the opposite jibe.

Don’t Sail Dead Downwind

Just like sailing with a spinnaker, it rarely pays to sail dead down, wind with cruising canvas, even on a leg, which is a dead run. By heading up a certain amount, your boat speed climbs to a point where it will pay to jibe back-and-forth to a lower mark. This is called “sailing to polars,” a concept that most spinnaker trimmers recognize. The proper polar angle depends on the wind strength and your particular boat. However, the angles we discovered for Gannet should be similar for any boat with a 150-percent genoa and a standard-length whisker pole.

No matter what the boat, the lighter the wind, the higher the proper sailing angle will be. And remember, always avoid sailing in the dead zone. In winds under 8 knots, pole the jib out to leeward to sail above the dead zone, maintaining an apparent-wind angle of 100 to 110 degrees. When the wind reaches 8 knots, then it’s time to go wing-on-wing, sailing at an apparent wind angle of 140 degrees, or just below the dead zone. As the wind builds you must sail lower and lower for optimum angle. At 12 knots, the apparent wind angle is about 150 degrees. In 15 knots, it’s 160 degrees, and at 18 knots, it’s 170 degrees. Only in winds of 20 knots or more should you sail dead downwind.

As you can see, there’s more to cruising canvas racing that meets the eye. So, the next time the competition throws up the whisker pole and settles back with a cold brew, ask yourself: “Is this the best angle to keep the boat moving? Am I in the dead zone?” And, “I wonder how that beer will sit if I roll over them with my jib polled out to leeward!”

The post A New Angle on Speed: Poling the Headsail appeared first on Sailing World.

Making good use of an afternoon practice session ahead of the 2025 Helly Hansen Sailing World Regatta Series in Chicago in June—another step toward their goal of winning a J/70 world title, skipper Cate Terhune-Muller and her crew—husband Allan Terhune, tactician Steve Hunt and trimmer Nick Turney—are circling in the starting area on board the Terhune’s J/70 Casting Couch. This is the second practice start of the informal scrimmage, which will be followed by a short windward-leeward lap. Their intent is to win the pin, a high-risk move given the caliber of teams on the other boats.

“Let’s do a pin layline practice,” Hunt says to his teammates, his communication clear and focused. The pre-race ritual of testing angles and timing is critical—especially given that everyone is using GPS-based starting systems.

 Turney takes a quick glance at his watch and says, “3:15.”

 “Call pin lay, Alan,” Hunt says, his yes scanning for other boats positioning themselves and gauging their position relative to the pin-end bouy.

 “Not there yet,” Terhune responds.

 “3:10,” Turney updates the team.

The cadence and clarity of the pre-start conversation reflects the level of professionalism with the team and the hundreds of hours they’ve spent racing, training and deep debriefing with their all-star coach Chris Larson.

“Heading up here and tacking,” Hunt announces. “Barely there.”

 With less than 2 minutes until the start, Casting Couch maneuvers into position. Another boat, Richard Witzel’s Rowdy, is lining up for a pin end start as well.

“Rowdy wants the pin,” Hunt says, telling Muller-Terhune to, “Let him go in front of you.”

The countdown continues as they make their final approach.

 “One minute, 64 meters,” Turney calls out.

“If you overlap, go above,” Hunt instructs Muller-Terhune, who is focused on maintaining clean air and a strong position.

They double tack to position themselves to leeward of Rowdy, sails luffing to slow the boat. And as the seconds tick down, there’s a sudden urgency to Hunt’s calls.

“I think we’re in trouble here, guys,” He warns.

Turney jumps into the conversation with a countdown: “Ten, nine, eight…”

Their too advanced and Hunt quickly aborts the start, advising Muller-Terhune to jibe around the pin and clear themselves. They’re not alone: Over the VHF, the race committee reports that all boats are over early, except Rowdy.

Once underway, the crew transition smoothly into their upwind mindset. The J/70 is notoriously tricky in variable conditions—underpowered in light air but requiring depowering as soon as the wind reach 8 to 10 knots, but Casting Couch’s collective experience has them dialed in to the speed they need.

“Take a deep breath and go fast,” Hunt encourage his skipper as they tack back on to starboard and regroup.

 “Little puff on,” says Turney, who is scanning the blue waters of Lake Michigan. The gusty northwesterly wind is blowing through Chicago’s concrete maze of buildings. “Little puff here in about three, two, one. Number is 040, 5.6 is the target.”

 The crew constantly communicates about the wind pressure and their positioning on the racecourse relative to other boats. “Rowdy crossing your bow right now,” Hunt reports as they make their way up short beat. “Not bad,” Hunt adds, satisfied with their position despite having done two extra tacks after the start. For this practice session, teams have agreed to 270-degree penalties for any OCS starts, rather than boats returning to the line to restart.

 Their upwind performance has them right back among the leaders—none of whom have done their penalty turns.

 Before they approach the windward mark, the tactical discussion shift to their downwind strategy.

 Just got a 10-degree header,” Hunt says as they reach the top of the course. “It’s probably a long bear-away set.”

 “Forty-five seconds each way,” Terhune says. “Maybe it lasts 30.”

“I think it’s winging conditions, so let’s wing pretty early in the run and just wing the whole time—kite on port,” Hunt calls.

As the bow passes the mark and Muller-Terhune turns downwind and the spinnaker fills with a crisp snap of sailcloth.

“Got a kite,” Turney says, after quickly pulling the halyard and taking the spinnaker sheet from Terhune. “Mine.”

“Stay low, winging main shortly,” Hunt says as they turn downwind.

The run presents a new set of challenges, given the J/70 wasn’t intentionally designed to be a boat that’s winged downwind. The perfect technique is next-level boathandling, requiring constant adjustment and communication between trimmer and helm.

Winging is a tactical sailing technique that allows the boat to sail directly toward the leeward mark with less sailed distance by having the jib or spinnaker out opposite the mainsail, avoiding the main’s wind shadow.

In light winds, winging is less effective due to insufficient sail pressure, and in heavy winds, transitioning to planing is typically better. The crossover isn’t always obvious. The technique requires a clear wind lane to ensure the sail remains stable.

The strategic use of winging involves making decisions based on constantly changing wind conditions, fleet positioning, and mark proximity. It’s essential to adapt quickly to changing winging angles and assess when to shift modes, such as during a lift or a header or positioning with other boats.

Practicing winging involves refining communication and timing within the crew to switch modes swiftly and effectively. When done right, winging opens up tactical opportunities like cutting corners at marks, forcing competitors into difficult positions, and maximizing speed toward downwind gates or finishes.

“Does it feel a little light to wing maybe?” Hunt asks Turney, considering their options. 

“Maybe it’s borderline winging. Yeah,” Turney agrees. “No lower Cate, going straight here.”

 Their refined teamwork and technique are on full display as they navigate the short run to the finish, with Hunt watching behind, calling out waves and pumping opportunities and then looking forward to the find the leeward marks.

 “See the gates? Probably 50-50,” he says, already planning their approach to the leeward gate even though they’re only halfway down the leg.

 “One little pump,” Turney calls, feeling a slight pull on the spinnaker sheet in his hand. “No higher than that Cate, and a wave here. Three, two, one, flatten and pump. Good angle there.”

 “Nice job,” Hunt replies.

 As they approach the leeward gate, they need to choose which mark to round and what the best approach will be. “OK, nice lane here,” Hunt observes. “High wing is probably best. High wing right now. Looking at the gates.”

 “Almost kicking a field goal,” Hunt says, referring to their position between the gate marks.

They continue their downwind run with fluid precision, constantly making small adjustments to waves, puffs and wind shifts. “Little righty here,” Turney tells Muller-Terhune, who responds with a small movement of the tiller extension laying in her lap.

 “The high wing mode looks pretty good here,” Hunt confirms.

Setting up for a jibe near the bottom of the course, Hunt takes over the spinnaker sheet from Turney, who will focus on jibing the mainsail. They quickly talk through it beforehand to ensure they’re in sync. The main comes across, Hunt trims the spinnaker to the new exit angle and the two of them call out in unison, as if finishing each other’s sentences: “Two-one, flatten…and pump…”

Another flawless jibe, and they finish overlapped with several other boats.

For this practice session, the gates serve as the finish line and Casting Couch glides across the line with the leaders. A solid comeback, and possibly a race win had the race winners done their 270s, Hunt suggests.

The outcome of this 15-minute practice race confirms why Casting Couch is one of the top teams in the ultra-competitive J/70 scene. The crew’s ability to read the conditions, make quick tactical decisions, and execute maneuvers with precision had put them in a strong position. It’s also proof, that while everyone will have an OCS or second-row start at some point, the best teams put the mistake behind them and focus on advancing one boat, one puff, one pump and one good call at a time.

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Before we tackle the hardware phase of the Still 2 Crazy project, let’s rewind for a moment to its beginnings. My father, Jon Shampain, and his boat partner, Robert Plant—with my help—purchased and started a full rehab of a vintage 1996 Melges 30, a sportboat that had runners, an articulating bowsprit, and overlapping genoas. Dad and Plant started by stripping the boat completely, even removing the chainplates. Then every hole was filled, and delamination in the gelcoat was ground away, filled, and faired. Because the boat is now almost three decades old, we added knees under the stanchions and ribs under the genoa lead system to prevent the deck from flexing. We also added laminate under areas where we knew there would be high loads, such as under padeyes and runner-­block attachments. We added winches for the runners, so we also added pads and backing plates for the new winch locations.

The runners were a good place to start. Originally, the boat had a purchase system that led belowdecks. While it was lightweight, it also was complicated, with many ­moving parts, and it allowed water to get inside the boat. So we opted for a 2-to-1 above-deck system that leads to a pair of Harken 35.2ST Performa winches, which are powerful yet smaller self-tailing two-speed winches. This should give us good control of the mast when tacking and jibing in a big breeze.

Using Harken’s online resources, I printed and built a scaled-to-size mock-up of the winch and positioned it where we wanted it on the boat, to verify that the line would reach the winch without affecting other systems. Incorporated in the system is a series of the 57 mm Black Magic blocks, which are the perfect size and strength to handle the runner loads on this 30-foot fractionally rigged sportboat. At the top, we have the purpose-built 57 mm runner block, which is designed for runners. At the stern, we have the standard 57 mm Black Magic blocks attached to the boat with Dyneema loops. In the cockpit, the 57 mm Black Magic foot blocks direct the runner to the winches.

The mainsheet system got a makeover as well. The original fine-tune adjustment ran through a purchase belowdecks. And while it was clean, like the runner system, it let water down below. I exchanged that for a standard system, similar to what you’d find on a Melges 32—a 6-to-1 with a cam base behind the traveler and a 4-to-1 fine-tune on a low-profile base in front of the traveler. We use 57 mm soft-attachment Carbo blocks on the boom and a double Carbo block on the traveler car. The fine-tune uses 40 mm Carbo fiddle blocks. For the mainsheet and fine-tune cleats, I spec’d the Harken fast-release fairlead. I find that it is easier to cleat and uncleat, and it has less friction on the big eases. The traveler itself has a 3-to-1 using a combination of 40 mm and 29 mm Harken Carbo blocks.  

We had some fun with the genoa car ­system. The boat was designed with tracks for the genoa and separate tracks for a jib, along with all of the purchase systems needed for the cars. It was all pretty old, and it was looking as if we were going to have to replace all of the tracks and cars. Instead, we designed a floating lead system that is light, cost-effective and simple. Under the location of the genoa and jib hardware, we mounted Harken’s 12 mm bolt-down ­fairleads to the deck. Then we spliced in a 2-to-1 Dyneema strop to Harken’s floating-­jib lead rings. These were spliced to a 3-to-1 purchase led to a cleat near the genoa winch. The strops for the No. 1 genoa and No. 3 jib are spliced together so that one line adjusts everything. Last, we added the Harken Grand Prix jib lead eye in front of the winch to prevent overrides. Voilà! Floating leads that are simple, easy on the pocketbook, and still have the 6-to-1 purchase for easy adjustments. The genoa lead cleats have Harken’s extreme-angle fairleads, which align the rope and allow us to cleat and uncleat them from the weather rail.

While on the genoa system, I was unsure how I wanted to set up the outboard leads. While I try to avoid adding stainless parts to a sportboat because every ounce matters, there is a time and a place for everything, and once again, Harken had something special. In the locations we thought that the outboard leads should go, we mounted 56 mm fixed padeyes (Harken 2759) with two bolts. Folding padeyes are great and Harken’s new Gizmos are great, but I really wanted to get the eyes as far outboard as I could, and that meant fastening them to the curved radius of the deck/hull joint. A two-fastener fixed eye let me mount them inline on the rail on a curved surface. They have a round eye built in and are very strong. I can attach a block to them, I can run a sheet through them, or I can clip a shackle or carabiner to them. And with working loads around 2,500 pounds, weighing just 1.3 ounces each and costing less than $20 apiece, with these I could do no wrong.

I’ve long felt a need for a high-load block similar to the 57 mm Black Magic block but one that was a little smaller. Harken’s new Fly blocks are amazing but too small for what I had in mind. As if to answer my prayers, Harken designed a new 45 mm Black Magic loop block—exactly what I wanted for the aft spinnaker blocks. They easily take the load, run smoothly, and are very light. In front of them are 75 mm Harken Carbo ratchet blocks. In light air, we can trim without a winch; in heavy air, we can turn the ratchets off and trim on the winches.

Another area that got a full makeover was the articulating-bowsprit purchases. There is a pole extender, a pole retractor, a pole-pull to starboard, and a pole-pull to port—each with its own purchase system belowdecks. Originally, they were led through the back of the companionway or the side of the cockpit. These were places where plenty of water could egress. My father came up with the idea to lead it all to cleats inside the companionway but facing outward to where the pit person would ­naturally be in maneuvers.

But because it wasn’t my idea to begin with it, I didn’t like it. But he got his way, and I admit that it works extremely well. Just inside the companionway are two standard cam cleats angled out to the cockpit with, you guessed it, extreme-angle fairleads on them. It really makes cleating, uncleating, and lining up the rope with the cleat a breeze. The pole-out incorporates a pair of medium-size Harken wire blocks. These are very strong and good when using small, uncovered Dyneema lines.

A 2-to-1 purchase is plenty for this function. As it is with the pole in, we did a 2-to-1 after trying a 1-to-1. There was some binding in the pole system, and the 2-to-1 seemed to alleviate that. Because less strength is needed for this function, we were able to use lighter Harken Carbo blocks. Because the articulation controls load up a fair amount more, we designed an 8-to-1 system using Harken Carbo blocks at the back end and high-load wire blocks at the front.

The boat came with an older code zero, and I was eager to get it on a furler because furling these sails makes setting, dousing, and use in general so much easier. Our previous Still Crazy had a great Harken unit, so I was confident that it was the way to go for us. The Harken Reflex Unit 1 furler with the top-down furling option and Harken’s 10 mm Torsion Cable was an easy choice. I am a fan of the interchangeable bottom pieces, so you can have one lower drum and multiple spinnakers with torsion cables ready to go. Clip in and clip out for easy storage or sail changes. In addition, we installed a retractable bobstay to help us maintain luff tension when sailing with the code zero. 

The Lineage Report

As a part-time rigger, I enjoy finding different ropes and exploring applications for them all. I worked with Marlow on this project. Let’s start with one of my favorite ropes and one of my go-to products for J/70 rigging: Marlow’s D12 MAX cores. This core is available in SK78 and SK99. It is strong and has nearly zero stretch. This is a key ingredient for jib halyards, main halyards, control pennants, backstays and runners. It’s also important in spinnaker halyards and tack lines, especially on boats with code zeros, where maintaining luff tension is essential. We used a lot of it on this project, and it’s performing as expected. Because it’s strong and also easy to splice, we were able to use 6 mm on the primary runner and 3 mm on the checkstays and topmast runners.

For spinnaker and genoa halyards, we chose their MGP Tech 50 covers with the D12 Max core. The MGP Tech cover is a Technora-based cover that is very grippy in the clutches and on the winch while providing good durability and chafe resistance. In fact, it’s so good in the hands and with chafe resistance that we also used it for the genoa sheets. For spinnaker halyards, we chose small Tylaska shackles and added Marlow’s chafe sleeve to reduce chafe when the halyards pull off center at the top. We are trying Tylaska’s spool shackles on the jib halyards. They are working well, albeit I need to lengthen the splices to accommodate the press rings in some of the older sails

For the runner tails on these fractional boats, heat resistance is key because the rope heats up under so much load when eased. For this reason, we went with Marlow’s MGP P Tech 50. While similar to the rope described above, the P tech has PBO woven in to help with the heat resistance. Of course, because overall stretch is a concern, D12 Max is in the core. To keep the weight down, we spliced a lightweight tail into it where it will never be loaded. We used Excel R8 for a clean and finished look that matched the runner tail itself.

For the spinnaker sheets, I wanted an all-purpose set and a light-air set. For the AP set, Marlow suggested the same cover as the genoa sheets and halyards: MGP Tech 50 but with a low-stretch softer core, such as D12 78. It sounded like a great idea and has proved itself well. For the light-air sheets, we went with another recommendation from Marlow: Excel HPR 6.5. It’s lightweight, strong, and easy to grip.

MGP Furler 50 is excellent for the code zero furling lines. It provides good grip in the furling unit and is easy to splice in a continuous loop. We added a small detachable block on a bungee with a clip so that the unloaded end stays tensioned. This keeps the continuous furling drum from ­back-spinning as you furl.

Tack lines live in clutches and are not adjusted much, so we thought we could use a simple cover over the D12 Max. MGP Racing fit the bill, with a simple polyester cover that is cost-effective but still works well in the hands and clutches. 

We used plenty of Excel Racing for ­control lines as well. It is a Dyneema-cored polyester-covered line that’s great for jib leads, vang, cunningham, outhaul, traveler, etc. It comes in many sizes and colors.

The post A Melges 30 Redo: Deck and Rigging Upgrades appeared first on Sailing World.