Day One
It was Brian Stamper and I double handing this race. The forecast was for a very light northerly for most of the race, turning into what could be a 20 knot bruiser when we got to Port Townsend. The tide was also ebbing for most of the day, which meant that we would have a nice current push for much of the race on Saturday. With that in mind, we set off Saturday morning with the expectation that anything could happen.
The Start – Fickle and Light
We got off to a pretty good start. We were on the line, had the sails up and we crossed within a few seconds of our start time. The winds were very fickle. It was one of those starts where, if you were lucky, you caught a puff and could get away from the starting area and into the breeze. If you were unlucky, you sailed into a hole and were stuck on the starting line for 30 minutes. So depending on where you were in the starting sequence, you either got lucky or you did not. A lot of folks starting after us didn’t get lucky.
Fortunately, the wind gods favored us. We had just enough breeze to get away from the start and get working up towards Kingston. A bunch of folks starting after us got shut down with no wind at all. So there was a big gap between the boats that started early and the boats that started later in the morning. In this case, that meant that the small boats (30 foot and under) got a really solid head start on the larger boats in the fleet. RTTS is a pursuit race, meaning it’s a timed start based on your boat’s handicap. The slower your boat, the earlier your start. So the little boats like us are always looking over our shoulders at the big, fast boats that start later in the morning.
Zero Tacks Given
We did our best to capitalize on that early advantage and the good news was that the wind was very consistent (if light) and we didn’t have to tack once from Shilshole all the way up to Double Bluff (our halfway mark). The wind ranged somewhere between 4 to 7 or 8 kts all morning. These were perfect conditions for our big #1. As we approached Double Bluff we saw that some of the boats ahead of us like Banana Stand, and Pell Mell were on port tack trying to make their way to the Mark. We could also see that the wind was shutting down and that it was very possible that they were not going to make the mark. That was compounded by the fact that the tide was going out (remember that tide I mentioned?) and there was a really stiff 2 knot current at Double Bluff. All of this meant that if you didn’t round the mark you got swept out into Admiralty inlet. I distinctly remember looking at Brian and agreeing, “Let’s not do that.”
The Double Bluff Gut Punch
We could see the quickly evolving situation and so we decided to tack toward Double Bluff early and make sure that we didn’t get swept past the mark ourselves. We got within 50 feet of the mark looking like we were going to do just fine…and then the wind shut down. And just like that we were screwed. We got swept past Double Bluff just like all the other chumps in front of us. Everyone who was swept, had to hoist their spinnakers and try to desperately claw their way back up to the mark in order to successfully round it. It was an unmitigated low speed disaster. A slow moving horror show. We had to try make multiple attempts at the rounding (probably six or seven times) only to be defeated by heavy traffic or the wind shutting down or by various and sundry other minor crises. In the end, it took us over an hour to make that mark rounding. I hate Double Bluff with a passion that defies description. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve got some feelings about that buoy that will require therapy.
In the meantime, the entire fleet was coming up behind us. Seeing our ‘difficulty’ they made sure that they didn’t make the same mistake. We watched nearly 70 boats go around the mark successfully while we tried to claw our way back. It was one of the most humiliating experiences I’ve ever had (at least since last year’s RTTS). Finally, we rounded the mark firmly at the back of the fleet with absolutely no chance of recovering. We were completely and utterly defeated by the Double Bluff buoy. The fleet was over the horizon, and there was nothing to do but swallow our pride and follow the stragglers in to the finish.
The Cost of Delay
Despondent, we continued to sail toward Port Townsend, trying the best we could just to finish. Brian and I were in that golden quiet space you arrive at when you are so spitting mad you can’t form coherent sentences. So of course, Mother Nature noticed our distress and gave us a little attitude adjustment by promptly dumping a big, fat, squall on us. One minute we are drifting in 5 knots of breeze, and the next, we hit a 20 knot squall. We got thoroughly soaked. Once we got out the other side of the squall, the wind shut down (of course) and we bobbed around for maybe 30 minutes before the wind picked up again and we made it back up to Marrowstone Point.
The PT Finish
Unfortunately, the wind shut down once again at Marrowstone Point and we sat in a kind of washing machine just outside of Port Townsend as the tide started to change. There were waves coming from all directions. At one point, I recall watching our windex spin in a complete circle. The sails were slatting uselessly. It was miserable. We sat there in “the bathtub of woe” for about an hour before the wind picked up again and we were able to very slowly crawl over to the finish line in Port Townsend, finishing roughly 80th out of a fleet of 102 boats. It was an ignominious end to what started off as a great day.
Day 2
Sunday morning arrived with a fresh 15 knot breeze from the west. The forecast was for steady breeze, sunshine, and a downwind run all the way home to Seattle. Perfect!
The Start – Swept East
We nailed the start and flew east under our asymmetric spinnaker down past Marrowstone Point and across Admiralty Inlet to the west side of Whidbey Island. Then we gybed right and pointed ourselves due south toward Seattle. The wind was a steady 12-14 knots and the tide was going to be ebbing against us the whole way back home. Given the freak show we experienced Saturday at Double Bluff, I naturally had some anxiety about rounding that mark again on day two. What would Double Bluff bring us today? Standing waves? A cross current? Flying monkeys? Call me a cynic, but my money was on the monkeys.
An Epic Downwind Run
It’s been a while since I’ve had a race that was just a solid day of downwind sailing. It was delightful. The wind was perfect, just enough to keep us hauling at hull speed, but not so much that we were fighting for control of the boat. We don’t normally sail Blur with an assymetric chute, but since we were double handing, it seemed the prudent thing to do. We didn’t have to fuss with a spinnaker pole, so no one had to go up on the foredeck for gybes. It’s a very safe and conservative way to sail the boat. Unfortunately, it’s not really the fastest way to sail the boat either.
A Whale of a Good Time
Somewhere around Bush Point we were treated to an Orca sighting right in the middle of the race. Fortunately the Orcas decided not use Blur as a chew toy. We did the best we could to give them a wide berth and continued on.
Double Bluff
As we continued southward, we approached Double Bluff with some apprehension. Any concerns turned out to have been completely unwarranted. I breathed a sigh of relief as we flew downwind past the mark without incident and headed across the inlet to Point No Point. The day was gorgeous, the horizon was filled with spinnakers, and the breeze promised to continue all the way home.
Point no Point to Shilshole
The fleet ran down the east shore of Bainbridge, past Kingston and then back across to Shilshole and the finish line. We ended up losing a lot of ground because the asymmetric spinnaker forced us to sail pretty hot angles. That was a learning experience. It’s a really nice sail, and it’s easy to use, but we learned that sometimes, a symmetrical spinnaker is the right one to use. We ended up coming in toward the back of the fleet once again. I would summarize Sunday as a beautiful day of sailing and a terrible day of racing. From my perspective, this puts it in the “win” column. This was probably the best RTTS I’ve sailed in years. There was some fantastic sailing on both days. There was drama, emotion, and lots of intensity. We learned a lot. I’m probably going to twitch every time somebody says, “Double Bluff!” And I guess that’s OK.
Thanks to Brian for partnering and putting up with me for two entire days. Thanks to Ballard Sails for building the awesome sails that carried us on this adventure. And thanks to the Sloop Tavern Yacht Club for putting on yet another memorable race.
Blur Racing 
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