Springtime sailing is usually good in Banderas Bay and this March and April we’ve had great winds and great competition.
And we’ve done well but it’s taken a bit of work getting ready for it all.
After returning from Tenacatita we had to get the boat set up for Banderas Bay Regatta and that meant getting racing sails on-board, all the cruising equipment off, the bottom cleaned, and the crew roster finalized. It was quite a bit of work in a short time frame, but we got it done.
Then we had some hard practices with a few mistakes and mishaps but generally we were pretty good at our jobs and we worked out the kinks and were ready for the BBR. This year, with the help of the practices like that, our crew has been our strength; we have a boatload of keen racers with lots of experience on board. In the BBR the boat handling was excellent and as well as good boat speed (credit attentive trimming), good starts, and excellent tactics. All in all, we sailed well in BBR. Second place in our class (class #2) was satisfying. Even more so when we compared our times with the boats from class #1, we would have beat most of them too and would have second there as well. We got our trophy at the big awards party and went home happy.
The next (and last) race of the season was a real stunner for the rest of the fleet. It was called a “Saturday Smack Down” intended to resolve a dispute between two bigger boats. The race wasn't about us,
they allowed us to enter just to fill out the ranks.
The race went to Punta Mita and back, non-stop. What a race we had. We blew out of the starting box to an immediate lead, and continued to grow our lead all the way. The big boats lacked the windward performance (and also the local knowledge needed to find the fastest way to Punta Mita). It was fun sailing and we covered the faster boats behind us aggressively. We even felt that we pushed them into tactical mistakes. It was fun. We rounded the windward mark at Punta Mita well ahead.
After rounding we set our biggest kite and beam reached in the strong breezes back to La Cruz. It was beautiful, fast sailing. In the end one boat got past us but only by seconds and we were first place on corrected time. The race “fee” was a bottle wine to be shared afterward and we all told stories and lies and we enjoyed the whole event including paying off the bets we all made against each other where the winners of the bets had to contribute to the Vallarta yacht Club youth sailing program. We paid happily.
After BBR we made a serious effort to convert Wings back to cruising mode, another four days of hard work, so we could be ready for our spring cruise but we were in waiting mode because of some pending doctor appointments and stayed tied to the dock. More on this later.
Other Sailing Action
Meanwhile Fred raced on Greg and Gloria’s Beep Beep with a boat load of good sailors and they won that race too!
Next a delivery from Barra de Navidad. Mike from Honu needed to get his boat back to La Cruz so three of us lucky amigos took a car ride to Barra and sailed Mike’s boat back. Good fun.
We did get Wings out of the marina and we began what was supposed to be our spring cruise by sailing to Punta Mita (again) and anchoring there.
That sail was pretty good but it got off to a chaotic start. The autopilot broke and Judy was left on deck steering while I fixed it and meanwhile the wind piped up over 20 and it was a real handful for her to manage alone. “Fred, get up here", she shouted.
Then the galley lockers opened up and with a loud crash spilled all their contents on the cabin sole. What a mess. So we were dealing with a broken autopilot, the wrong sail set up and a total mess down below. But we got it all squared away and all was good again. We sailed on to the anchorage, and actually managed another good elapsed time despite the chaos.
So now we had some peace and quiet.
Yelapa
But wait! There’s more! The following Saturday was “Spring Fling” to Yelapa, a part of Mike Danielson’s birthday celebrations. Several of our friends were going so we decided to join and we sailed to Yelapa. It’s not a race, but we’ll sailed like it was.
Yelapa was great fun with a good mooring and lots of fun ashore. Sunday’s race home, however, was disappointing. We got a late start, the winds were light, and our cruising sails just didn’t cut it. We were the slowest boat out there, barely nipping two other boats to the finish. Our friends on Beep Beep were first and they asked, “What happened to you guys?”. “Well,” I answered, "for two oldsters we did the best we could”.
Next: Medical Stuff Puts Our Spring Cruise on Hold
We’ve elected to have some medical procedures that are needed, which will delay our cruise this year, (end it, actually). We’re back at the dock in La Cruz and we will most likely be here all summer. We’ll write more later on this subject.
For more photos of Banderas Bay Sailing, Click here
Sometime after midnight the wind came down the mountain and breathed softly on the bay where Wings lay anchored.
The boat turned to face the breeze and swung into deeper water.
That set off the alarm.
I woke and rolled off the starboard settee where I had been sleeping, fully clothed, ready for just such a moment and climbed the ladder to the cockpit to see what the commotion was all about. This was the fifth time that night that one of the alarms woke me. Usually they had been the shallow water alarm, less than 60 feet, meaning we could be getting closer to shore. This time as I climbed up the ladder I noticed the depth: 97.5 feet. Good, we’re in safe water.
Then I smelled the dirt in the air and I knew the downflow from the mountain had reached us and I could relax. For the rest of the night that downflow would keep our bow pointed into the valley and our stern out to sea and over deep water. It would also align our length with the sweep of the swells, and reduce the rolling. We’d sleep better.
I undressed and got into my bunk.
But I left the alarms activated, just in case.
All of this because we’re anchored on the edge of a deep underwater canyon, in a place called Boca de Tomatlan (the mouth of the Tomatlan River). The anchor is placed on the only spot in the Boca where we could place it, in 70’ of water right near the shore on the west side, a spot about 25ft square. The rest of the Boca had depths of 100-200ft or, if shallower, were within inches of the rocky shoreline. Even the 70’ spot was close to the shore. We could only put out 2:1 scope on our anchor chain because we were within about 100 ft of the rocks and with more chain the boat could possibly swing into the shore and touch.
But we’d been looking at Boca de Tomatlan from the road above as we passed by for years and always thought it looked enticing so this year we decided to give anchoring here a try.
Now, since we made it through the night without having to bail out and leave, possibly we can stay for a few more days.
Boca de Tomatlan really is lovely and it reminds me so much of the small villages at the end of so many roads on Vancouver Island or on the Canadian mainland. The terrain is similar, high hills and a small village at the foot of them with a wharf around which most of the action centers. You see, for commerce or travel out along the south shore of Banderas Bay, Boca de Tomatlan is the end of the road. From here on you have to take a boat. So all day pangas come and go with people and goods. Oh, and yes, there is more to the village. There is a bus stop up on the highway, and some palapa restaurants on the beach and some stores, and perhaps more to be discovered.
We’ll put the dingy together today and go ashore, and report more after that.
There is one big challenge to anchoring in Boca Tomatlan: it is impossibly deep here.
For years I was interested on this beautiful and quaint inlet but all the information I could find told me, “No Way, too deep!”
But this year I got some Navionics charts which showed a lot more detail including soundings for the whole bay. But I saw some areas along the west shore where the contour lines indicated a high spot or two in the bottom. As we arrived and cruised the shoreline the lowest number we saw was seventy feet? Could we manage that? Well yes, we had plenty of chain, but with only 120’ from the rocky shore to the spot we wouldn’t be able to use normal 3-1 or 5-1 scope. But if 2-1 would hold maybe it would be OK.
It took a few tries to find that 70’ spot again, it’s not very big, but eventually we got right over it, backing down slightly, and lowered the anchor. We put out 150’ and pulled on it, but not much. With 2:1 scope it wouldn’t hold very much, but it seemed to stop us. We pulled a little more. No movement.
OK, we’ll try this, we thought.
To solve worries about swinging into the shoreline or dragging we set three alarms on our instrument system:
1. We set a shallow water alarm for 65’ to alert us if we swing towards the shore.
2. We also set a deep water alarm, for 100’ to alert us if we drag of into the middle of the bay or out of it.
3. Finally we set an anchor watch for 300’, meaning that if we moved 300’ in any direction that alarm would go off. This third alarm was rather useless since 300’ was quite a long ways to go before sounding an alarm, but that’s the best our Lowrance can do.
Now we’ve been here for 5 days. We’ve had a few (several) alarms which woke us during the night, mostly because swinging towards the shore, but we’ve never gotten too close or dragged. I have changed the settings to reduce false alarms. I still set the alarm but it only goes off occasionally.
Where is the spot?
So here is where we found the 70’ patch to anchor in:
Lon 20 30.805
Lat 105 19.069
There was a strong thermal which had resulted in over 22 knots of true wind on the day we left La Cruz to come over to this side of Banderas Bay.
As soon as we got out of the marina and hoisted the mainsail we were subjected to that breeze. I decided to put off setting a jib. We didn’t need it.
Judy was on the helm and I gave her a rough heading to follow and left her to it and went below to do a more careful navigation, finish the log book entries (for fueling, water top up, and departure), and to tidy up since the fenders, lines, and other dockside detritus were still scattered around. This is actually a typical approach for us, and admittedly it is due to my impatience to get going. I rarely want to hang around at the dock or inside the marina until everything is shipshape and put away. “Never a moment to lose, let’s get going”.
Because of that we always have these tidying up details to complete at the beginning of a passage or trip. Judy would rather steer than go below when the boat is jumping around so she steers and I go below.
So, while I was below decks Judy was blowing through the crowded anchorage at high speed on a close reach and dealing with all that wind and some good sized waves and a handful on the tiller at times. She is good but I am sure it was a little tense for her. Wings is a powerful boat and in 22 knots it does power up pretty quickly. I stuck my head up when she called and helped grind in the main and I noticed we showed a boat speed of over 7kts, not bad for just a mainsail.
“Are you OK?” I asked.
“Yeah, just get your stuff finished please” she answered.
I did finish up, and while doing so I heard quite a few good sized waves slap on deck as Wings sliced the tops off of the waves kicked up by the wind and the long fetch.
When I went on deck to relieve her I took the windvane blade and set it. From then on the sailing was easier.
For over two months we waited for the Mexican residence permits, for Immigration to finish the paperwork. On any day of those two months could have come the call, “Please come to the office now…”, so we were stuck; we couldn’t really leave Banderas Bay, our plan to go on a cruise was on hold. We accepted the delay, after all, this place is as good as any other place for us to enjoy the peace of the Mexican Spring when most of the tourists and migratory cruisers have departed and the streets of the town are quiet.
We made the best of it by sailing along the coast to Punta Mita a few times, only a couple of hours away. We could always get back if we needed to. The fresh spring winds made sailing the rugged and beautiful coast a joy. We anchored at Punta Mita and friends anchored nearby, their boats a welcome sight rocking gently in the swell. When the surf permitted we all went ashore and played Mexican Train Dominos and drank margaritas at a Punta Mita bar. We had a good time.
At least four trips we made along that coast, and we sailed hard each time and then took two days to recover our aching bodies, but they were aches we relished. Sailing muscles were used, and they felt good.
Finally the day came and Immigration was finished with us. Free! Free! Free!
Do some last minute shopping, put away the car, pay the marina bill (oops, we forgot that one!) and cast off all lines.
Sailing out of the Bay to go to Tenacatita can be a great trip if there is wind and you do it right. Leaving first thing in the morning doesn’t cut it; no breeze then.
But that’s what most people do, leave at the crack of dawn and motor all morning. We left at noon when the thermal winds started to kick in, stayed high of the rumb line, and then raced across the bay on a loose starboard tack towards Cabo Corrientes, sailing in the high 7’s. Another boat was out, a bit to leeward, I saw them in the distance, and they tacked towards us. It looked like they would almost cross us then they tacked back onto our lee bow. I don’t know the name of the boat, but I know the boat, it is a bigger Benneteau, sail number MEX777 which I believe is owned by the Montemayor family from Mexico City, well known in sailing circles. Our two boats sailed together, side by side, for nearly an hour, exactly pacing each other. It was a good match. I watched the crew on that boat and I saw them watching us, both crews trying to judge who was gaining, who was losing.
Little by little we worked out to weather of them. Finally they tacked over and crossed well behind us and I watched them sail off on port tack towards Punta Mita. They hadn’t needed to sail so far to the south if they were going to Punta Mita and I wondered if they went that far out of their way just for the challenge of sailing against us. I watched the white triangle as it grew smaller against the Banderas Bay shoreline in the distance. I wondered who exactly was sailing that boat that they were so keen as go out of their way to match up with us. I understand it though; they are my kind of sailors.
The wind died as we neared Cabo Corrientes, as it often does. We turned on the motor.
I said to Judy, “Since we’re motoring, and the sea is calm, let’s take a look at that cove out here called The Corral”.
“Can we stay there?” she asked.
“Not to stay, just to look.”
So we motored into the small cove and took some photos. I’ve always wanted to see it. We found it deep, even close to shore, and crowded with Pangas. Might be room for one boat, but it would be tight, and open to a northerly wind or swell. Anyhow, information to keep in mind.
We doubled Cabo Corrientes at 6 PM and motored south waiting for the evening wind to come up, which it did and we sailed through the night. It was gentle sailing, on the wind vane and we used only the mainsail so and our speed was only moderate, 5-6 knots, but it was easy and we could rest.
The following afternoon, under full sail, we charged into Tenacatia and had our usual disagreement about where the entrance was, resolved peacefully when Judy’s view proved right, also as usual.
Now we’re anchored in Tenacatita, with one other boat which we don’t know. Kelly and Deborah are in Barra but we think we need to hang out here for a while; going to Barra would mean more partying and we need to give our livers a break.
So what do you do when you finally get out of town? Well, basically nothing, except that we made a mop. Not that exciting but you can see for yourselves. Check out the photos.
Over the VHF radio a call to the fleet is heard, “This is Wings, the rabbit, we are five minutes from the mark. To all you racers out here, be prepared to turn around in five minutes when you see Wings heading back.”
That is the sound of fun on Wednesdays these days, impromptu pursuit races where the fleet chases whoever is in front until the boat in front reverses course and chases them.
It sounds silly and sort of useless, but we love it.
That is because when we are coming into La Cruz in our car and we get a view of the bay and it is filled with whitecaps and green water the urge to get back to the boat and out on the water is strong. That happens a lot, so we love it when we get to go out. While officially our racing is over for the year there are still many great sailing days in March and April. We just cannot give them up. We have this feeling that in our lives there are only so many good sailing days allotted to us and we regret missing even one.
Too often, however, we let these great sailing days slide past, unused. We stay tied to the dock, doing our boat chores or just passing time. Sometimes Judy and I will take a walk around to the beach to watch the waves. Usually, though, we are just looking forward to the next time we can get out there.
“If not today, then how about next Wednesday?”
So, lately, we’ve been going out on Wednesdays for these impromptu races. We call these sessions beer can races, the same name we used for the slightly more formal Wednesday races we had during the season.
But they are hardly races. We do have a start line and a timed start. But after that it’s just sailing.
Because these “races” are so silly we all just have fun and since we all go one way for a while, then turn around at the same time and come back, it hasn’t taken long for us to figure out that the slowest boat on the outbound leg has the least distance to go on the return. There is even the suspicion that one could sandbag a little on the outbound leg so as to have less distance to go to get back. But we don’t think anyone is doing that. Just sailing is so much fun, why waste it going slow?
On Wings we have been very casual about these Wednesdays. Whoever shows up gets to go. We’ll go with five people or ten. We’d even go if it was just Judy and I. But the crews have been fun and we sail pretty well. Often we wind up being the “rabbit”. And usually someone else is first back to the finish line. Who cares? It gives us a chance to congratulate them. Everyone gets to feel good.
The winds have been terrific this month. We’ve been getting nice westerly’s in the high teens and low 20’s. The racing sails are already in storage, and the only spinnaker we have is a 25 year old, beat up, ¾ oz sail Eddie Fracker made for us which was retired as a racing sail years ago. Even sailing with a reduced size Dacron mainsail and a small jib we’ve been able to go fast, and since the only spinnaker sail is pretty tired we don’t put it up in strong breezes; it wouldn’t last. Besides, these races are so short that there isn’t much time on the return trip to get a spinnaker up, the jib down, and do a jibe before we’ve already finished the race.
Well, we did it once, last Wednesday, and it was tight. I told the crew, “OK vacation is over, today we will set the spinnaker.” Which we did, but we barely got it up when it was time to take it down. It was still fun, though, and that is what Wednesdays are all about these days: Fun.
So, soon we’ll be into summer, hopefully Wings will be somewhere out cruising in Mexico, and the racing will truly be over for this season, but at least we’ll know we didn’t waste too many of the great sailing days.
We finished the racing season in March with the Banderas Bay Regatta.
The crew were in high spirits as we sailed home from the third and final race despite the fact that we were disqualified in that race due to a protest and finished third in the regatta.
We’d sailed well anyhow and the sailing in Banderas Bay was excellent and the racing closely fought.
BBR Results
In three races we finished first, third, and sixth (for the disqualification). The boat was sailing fast, the crew work was excellent, and if it wasn’t for a couple of mistakes I made, (for which I take complete responsibility) we would have been second. First place was out of the question. The beautifully prepared and well sailed J145 Double Take was unbeatable. They got first place on day two and three. Second was the J130 Sirocco, who sailed well but we could have beaten them and we would have if I had not underestimated them and backed off on the last downwind leg of race two.
Instead, in that race, we had our focus on Olas Lindas and once we knew we had them in the bag we sailed conservatively. Too conservatively, and we unknowingly let Sirocco correct out. We only needed to have gone .4 knots faster on that one last downwind leg to have beaten them. A spinnaker would have done the trick but with the breeze up and with the tight angle it was a bit dicey and we stayed with the genoa instead of risking our kite. My mistake.
The last day Double Take was well ahead but we had both Sirocco and Olas Lindas until the protest situation with Olas.
We were in close quarters with Olas and there was quite a bit of yelling about who had the right of way and Olas Lindas filed a protest. In the hearing after the race both of us were disqualified. That bumped us down to third. It was little satisfaction that Olas Lindas was also disqualified and wound up last in the regatta.
To have avoided that disqualification I would have only needed to yield a bit to Olas during the confrontation, but I didn’t. Honestly I don’t know why I didn’t. I will next time.
That night the whole crew, plus spouses, came to the awards party on the beach at Paradise Village. We received our third place award and we had a great time. Some of our crew were still dancing on the beach after the band left and the party had thinned out.
On Day two the race was all the way to Vallarta then back. On the way back we had a long close reach then a shorter downwind leg. At “S” we rounded and turned downwind, or rather onto a broader reach. Olas Lindas was still just ahead. We still had them on time. The question was, do we set the kite or stay with the jib? Olas hoisted. We should have.
We debated it. Someone said, “We’re already going 8.5, how much faster will we go with the spinnaker?”
“Ok,” I decided, “We’ve got Olas close enough, we don’t need the spinnaker, no need to blow out a sail, let’s sail conservatively.”
That was correct; we did have Olas Lindas. But Sirocco was up there too and we didn’t have them. We missed that and therefore placed third, not second. That was a point lost that we later needed. And I learned a lesson: Don’t be conservative. The whole crew felt bad. They thought they had talked me out of it and it cost us a place.
The next day the opposite happened. On this day we sailed a beat to “W” then down to “S” and back and this time we were overly aggressive.
The beat was OK, we were leading, but the long leg south to “S” buoy was tough for us. It seems like everyone on the boat but me knew that there would be big breeze on that leg. Judy was calling for the #3 jib to be moved off the rail to the port side and the spinnaker bag pulled off and put below. I didn’t get it. I kept asking “Why?”
Well the reason she suggested that was that she saw that there was big wind down to the south. They all saw it, just not me. I was concentrating on the tell-tails. If someone had said, “Fred, We’re going to get twenty knots on the next leg!” well maybe I’d have OK’d the preparations. But I never got that message. I think they were still remembering the conservative call of the previous day and didn’t want to repeat that mistake. Instead, we were overly aggressive.
So when we rounded the top mark and set course for “S” and the wind came in like a solid force we were unprepared. The boat with a #J1 and a full main was instantly overpowered.
“Don, we’ve got the change to the #J3.” I made the call, belatedly.
But nobody was ready. It was an outside set. It took forever. Meanwhile I was trying to feather the boat and keep the main under control. Richard and I worked together; not easy. The foredeck struggled.
We finally completed the change and got the #J1 down right at mark “S” From then on we were fine. We set the S3 kite and charged. If it hadn’t been for the protest we’d have gotten second in that race, but the overpowered leg wasn’t fun. I’ll remember that.
About the Protest.
We were battling Olas Lindas all week. On the final day, on the first downwind leg, we converged with them under spinnaker. The wind was light. We were on starboard, Olas on port. They jibed, then, while to windward of us, tried to force us to go down, calling “Proper course, proper course”. Well, we had rights to maintain our course. We did. They collided, if you can call a spinnaker brushing on our rig a collision. That would disqualify them.
Shortly after we jibed to port. Olas Lindas also jibed, and now to leeward of Wings, as the boats drew near again, they called for us to “come up, come up”. I judged that I was staying clear, as required of a windward boat. I didn’t move. They kept yelling. I yelled back: Profanity.
No contact was made but Olas Lindas filed a protest. In the protest meeting both boats were found to be at fault and disqualified from that race. More points were lost. Now we were in third place in the regatta not second (or first). So I learned another lesson: Give way and stay out of the protest room.
So, my two mistakes cost us second place. But, I learned some things. It’s funny that after 50 years of racing I still have room to learn such basic things. But I do.
The following Wednesday there was a Beer Can Regatta on the schedule. We planned to sail in it and host a hamburger BBQ on Wings afterwards. Well, there wasn’t a race. Only Wings and Olas Lindas came out.
Mike called off the race and we just went sailing but what a great sailing day it was. The wind got up into the 20 knot range once we sailed up the coast a ways and we sailed together with Olas into the new breeze.
Then we turned down wind and put up the A-3 spinnaker for a close reach back to La Cruz. The boat was steady in the high 8’s to high 9's and was over 10 knots at times. That is good speed for an old IOR boat. Everyone loved it.
Back at the dock I cooked hamburgers on the grill and we welcomed aboard some friends and neighbors. Together with our crew we chatted about the successful season and the great sailing we had that day.
So that is how the season ended. Twenty three races, first in two regattas (Banderas Bay Blast and Vallarta Cup) third in Banderas Bay Regatta, and first in several Beer Can races. Not a bad season.
Our crew has really gelled and are quite good now. We constantly get recognition for our great crew work. Further, they have become like family to us. Breaking up at the end of the season was a bit sad but we hope we’ll get the whole team back next year.
We had ten women aboard who had never been on a sailboat and they were all lounging around on the port side deck. I got everyone’s attention and then explained to them that when Judy yelled, “Tacking” they all had to move to the other side of the boat.
“Through here” I said, motioning under the boom. There didn’t seem to be any questioning looks so I nodded to Judy.
“Ready About?” she shouted.
“Ready,” answered Kelly and I, manning the winches.
“Tacking!” and she turned the boat.
That’s when it got real for the 10 passengers. Suddenly they realized that the sails were flapping, the winches were spinning, the boat was turning, and the side deck they were on was tipping way over towards the ocean. Like the flock of startled pigeons, they shrieked and flew through under the boom to the other side, laughing, scrambling, and giggling the whole way.
“Well done,” I said, “now next time who wants to help work the boat instead of just being along for the ride.” A few doubtful glances to each other than about 4 hands went up. And we started training.
I don’t know where the idea came from that we should take Norma and the women who run our gym out sailing on Wings but it just occurred to me one day and I mentioned it to Judy.
“That would be fun” she said so the next day I presented Norma with an invitation for a day on the water. I said it was for the whole crowd; Norma, her co-workers, her sisters, and their families, all of whom we know from seeing them at the gym three days a week. Norma quickly accepted but I have to say I don’t think she knew what she was getting into. It would be their first time on a sailboat.
That is how it came to be a week later that 10 gorgeous and excited women trouped down the dock and climbed aboard Wings for what they expected would a fun day lounging around on Wings’ decks in the sunshine with cold beverages in their hands and munching snacks and plates of ceviche (which they brought). Little did they know.
But Wings is not really a pleasure cruiser and anyhow, Judy and I had in mind a different type of sail, the kind we typically do when we have a boat full of guests: full sails, lots of tacking, spinnaker flying, and plenty of action. We brought Kelly and Deborah to help out.
After that first tack our new crew started to pay more attention. Kelly and I assigned jobs, Deborah translated, and we got everyone into their positions and we had some fun. Up the Punta Mita shoreline we tacked and then we turned down wind. Kelly said, “We need to put up the spinnaker!”
“OK, I’m game,” and up it went and down came the jib with some new forward hands pulling it in.
I showed Ana how to trim the spinnaker and I put myself on the winch to grind it. She soon got into the swing of things, letting it out until it folded and then yelling, “Frederico!” at me to grind. Boy, they all thought that was hilarious too.
We even jibed the spinnaker and that went smoothly too. Norma was interested in everything and did everything as you would expect of a woman who drives a Jeep, rides a Harley, drinks whiskey, and owns a gym. Ana, too, was everywhere. Alize and Adela pitched in, Ariadna and Carolina steered. I think I’ll keep this bunch. We handed out beverages. Well, some of the teenagers, I guess like a lot of teenagers, got bored. Never mind, we all had fun.
We’re a team, those of us who sail on Wings. Judy thinks of us as a family and she is right, but it’s a family which works together towards a goal. That goal is to sail this boat as well as we can.
January was a busy month for the Wings team. We sailed in 9 races; every Wednesday, every Saturday
.
Wednesdays were Beer Can Races. Like beer can races everywhere they are supposed to be casual, short races, no formal handicapping or results posted, and people drink beer.
Try telling that to the handful of boats which came out each Wednesday for our races. Truth is our Wednesday Beer Can races were hard fought. Nothing casual. No beer cans to be seen any Wednesday, not until the race was over.
Wednesdays were tough for team Wings. Our competitors were all faster boats. Without a handicap to level the playing field we knew we had little chance to win.
But win we did.
In the five beer can races we got one first, one second, and three thirds. Not bad.
We worked hard for those results. Our crew was still not the fine tuned machine we wanted it to be, and we had our problems. Those problems cost us a couple of first places. There was a lot of noise on the boat, you could call it yelling. Uncharacteristic yelling. Constructive, but yelling none the less.
We hated that. This is not us.
wingssail images-lisa diel
But by the end of the month though we’ve largely put that behind us. We’re working better as a team. The boat is much quieter and fewer problems are tripping us.
And we are happy about the Beer Can races even if we didn’t win every race; we were a factor; we’re the boat they all have to beat.
But this story is not about the Beer Can Wednesdays.
It’s about the Vallarta Cup; the four race series run by the Vallarta Yacht Club on each of the four Saturdays in January. In this series we did pretty good.
In fact we were dominant in the Vallarta Cup. We got three first places and one third place. On cumulative points nobody was close.
A lot of that success was due to preparation. Our Beer Can Races helped. We considered them to be little more than practices (they were). For the Vallarta Cup we also studied the weather forecasts and knew ahead of time what probable conditions we would face on Saturday and we made sail choices based on that analysis.
The crew was good. They were solid. Richard, John and Judy (our afterguard) got us to the starting lines on time, and in the right place. I just took their direction. It worked. The trimmers and grinders wailed on the winches; they were tireless. I was amazed at what energy they put out.
The halyards went perfectly, and that is even with Carol doubling as the genoa tailer on every tack. Wow!
The foredeck kept ahead of the game. It wasn’t easy for them, but they never held us back or failed to get the job done. They’ve come a long ways.
We made few mistakes. Each Saturday John gave pre-race briefings and the crew knew what we would face, and they were ready. Tacks? We never missed one. Sail handling? Perfect. That is what we need!
Plus, the boat was fast. On each race we came out of the blocks sailing faster and pointing higher than any of the competition. We usually made it to the first mark in first place, and then, as the faster boats inched past we just had to hang on to get the win at the end.
The last race, the fourth and final race of the Vallarta Cup, will, however, stand out for a long time in all of our memories.
It was a windy race and it had tough upwind and heavy downwind legs, exactly what we needed. We are a tough boat and that is what you need in a race like that. And you have to push yourself hard. It was a serious race. A big wind race.
We were ready for it.
In that race they sent the slow boats ahead first and the fastest boats were started last. Each boat’s start time was determined by its handicap rating. We were right in the middle; five boats ahead of us and five boats behind. Whoever got to the finish first would win. For us to win we had to pass all the slower boats ahead while not letting any of the faster boats, which started behind, pass us.
But that race was our race. It was the course and wind conditions which suited us best. And we knew it. We were excited.
We got a perfect start, which might seem easy since it was just us, but I could hear the beeping of the clock counting down and the start line was right there and there were still seconds to go and I thought it could be close, we might be early, but it was perfect. Thanks John and Richard.
On the first leg, 4.5 miles, we gained on the boats ahead but caught none of them. The speedier boats behind gained ominously but did not catch us. Tension!
Then we got to the La Cruz mark and turned upwind. The breeze was up. We came around the mark and sheeted in; power. This is Wings’ weather. The boat heeled over and we pointed higher. Ten of us climbed to the high side and lined the rail lending our weight to offset the pressure of the wind. We played the beach closely as this was our home ground and we knew the way. We made our tacks crisp and well timed and we started to reel in the boats ahead. By the time we rounded the top mark 2.5 miles later we had passed 4 of the 5 boats which had been in front of us. The fifth one was close ahead.
But the bigger, faster, boats behind were charging too. We looked back and saw them ever closer, gaining.
Now came our ace in the hole. The last leg, 6.5 miles, was directly downwind, and the wind was up: 19 knots. This is what Wings was made for.
We rounded that mark, bore off to downwind, and set the big symmetrical kite. The boat surged. With that sail we could go almost directly to the finish. The boats behind us carried asymmetrical kites. They could not sail as deeply downwind as we could. They needed to reach high to keep the assyms filled.
We watched them round behind us and start charging. But they charged the wrong way! They are sailing high of the course, they had to! A warm feeling started to come over us. This could be good.
Still, it was early. They are sailing high but fast. We didn’t know if they could catch us or not. We trimmed and worked the boat but otherwise the crew all sat there, tensely, quietly; nobody speaking, no small talk going on. We looked behind us. The asymmetrical kites looked bigger. The boats looked faster.
Could we hold them off?
One by one the boats behind jibed over and crossed our wake. They had not gained! We started to think we might be able to do it.
Meanwhile we flew. The pole was back, the main out, the boat heeled to windward by the force of the wind. Every line was bar tight, the rudder hummed. We turned to the stern and watched behind.
This is the part I will remember: The spinnaker is way out there, the boat is straining. The sky is blue, the ocean is blue, the sun is bright, we are flying. But we are going a little by the lee, Kelly has to hold the main from coming across, and the boat was rolling to windward; usually not a good sign. We are on the edge.
Someone on the crew asks, ”Should we try to balance the boat?”
“No”, I answered, “I can hold this, and it is fast this way.” The boat rolled further, but I held it.
We could see that now with just a mile to go that those boats back there would not make it.
“They won’t catch us.” said John.
But one boat, Mony, was still ahead, barely. I worked the tiller, and edged us forward. We came up to Mony, side by side. They were to weather and that was good for them because we had to get through their lee if we were to pass them.
I told the trimmers, “When we hit their wind shadow I’m going to turn up fast and cut in front of them, you shift the pole forward and sheet the kite in.”
“OK Fred.”
That move worked. In just a few seconds we got through and now had a clear path ahead.
But we’d never really been sailing exactly towards the finish line; just a few degrees above it. On this course we wouldn’t actually make it to the finish line. A jibe was needed.
Now the crew got ready for the jibe towards the line. It would have to be timed right and there was a possibility of a foul-up. The forward hands were on the foredeck practicing the dip pole.
I said, “Hold off on that jibe, I think the wind is going to shift left, in fact I feel it already, it will take us down to the finish. No Jibe!”
The wind did shift and came almost on the beam. We put the pole foreword and swept across the line, first.
We beat the rest of the boats by at least ten minutes except for Mony, who was just a few yards behind us. So they were second. But before the rest of the fleet finished we’d stopped counting. We had already popped the corks on our Champaign.
With this win, this dominating win, we locked up the series.
Racing rolls around each December. The crew, those who summer up north, drift back into town and the rest of us who summered here put away our boat projects and start puttering with rigging and sails and daydreaming about the sleek hulls of the racing boats gliding to windward in Banderas Bay. Our hearts beat with some excitement at those thoughts.
I am one of the latter. I don't leave the bay each summer, and I am here all year, and as the season begins to turn from summer heat to winter coolness each day I spend more time thinking about the sailing; about when we start.
Our first race will be "The Blast", Dec 12 to Dec 14. The crew would be rusty even if we didn't have some new folks. But we do. A few changes, some rotation, and we have a fresh mix-up on the boat. Not the best for a race.
So we scheduled a practice. Weds is good. Everybody has Wednesdays reserved for sailing so even though Mike didn't plan a race we went out.
I pushed the crew a little, we set sail immediately after leaving the harbor and started throwing in tacks. People were startled at the suddenness of it and shook themselves, as if to get the cobwebs out, then they got into it. Judy watched everyone like a hawk and stopped the foul-ups before they could happen. But the sailing went well. Rod and Carol and Pete, the new guy, worked like they'd been together for a decade. Dick had the main flying. The new forward hands, Don and Glenn, scampered around the front and spent time looking aloft so I said, "Set-up the A2 kite, we'll hoist it in 50 meters". I knew it was already set up, I did it before we left the dock. But to them, this was real.
"One boat length!" there was no mark to round but I imagined one, and the kite went up and we turned downwind but it was good that Lynne threw herself on the bag early because that sail almost came out too soon.
Bang, the spinnaker filled and I called for the jib to be dropped. It came down. Minor problem: Judy was caught outside of the spinnaker sheet. I saw her grimace as she yanked her left leg out of the way and she dragged her leg behind her as she regained the foredeck.
"You OK?" She nodded and inspected her leg. A little blood. A rope burn and a scratch. She'll be fine.
"Standby to jibe!".
It happened remarkably smoothly. I thought, that went nice.
"Shift the jib, we have a leeward mark coming up". They dragged the jib to the other side, preparing to re-hoist it.
"Hoist. OK drop the spinnaker." It came down but got wet. If it had been a real race we'd have lost time.
"Let's get that kite packed" and two hands went below deck to deal with a lot of yards of wet spinnaker cloth.
More tacks, again the jib crew was smooth, the tacks fast. We got back to the weather mark and the spinnaker bag came up the bow hatch and flopped on deck. Don hooked it up.
Another set, another jibe. Perfect.
This time we called the finish line and dropped the kite on deck, none of it went into the water.
This year the racing ended Saturday with the Banderas Bay Regatta. Banderas Bay Regatta is the big race of the year. It is intense with more competitors, more boats on the start line, and more PR. Several teams added professional sailors to their crews.
Maybe we were ready for the season to be over. After three months of weekly, sometime daily racing and many days of special preparation for this event, maybe we were a little burned out. We sailed hard for those final three days and we partied hard every night culminating with the big party Saturday night. We had fun but we didn’t do very well. After winning almost everything during the season we ended up only 5th in the Banderas Bay Regatta.
It was great sailing, glorious conditions, but we made mistakes. They say that in sailboat racing he who makes the least mistakes wins. So that explains it. We had problems every day. We made mistakes, so we didn’t deserve to win. Still, that’s racing. It gives us something to shoot for next year.
On day one, after a fantastic start and leading around the first mark, we headed off in the wrong direction to the second mark. We went .3 miles out of our way and that cost us 160 seconds (navigation error). Then on the last mark rounding we had a problem with the luff of our jib and could not set it for the short beat to the finish which cost us another 40 seconds (equipment failure). There were no miracles with wind shifts that we could play to get it back. We lost the race by less than 200 seconds, so our mistakes and problems took us from first to fourth.
On day two we had a less than stellar start and got caught in a situation with Olas Lindas which caused us both to go slow, probably lost a minute there. Next we had a bad spinnaker set and while that sail was flogging the sheets shook off and it took two attempts to reattach them. I’d guess that cost us 1:30 minutes, so again we had over two minutes to make up. The race was basically a parade and we had no chances to regain the lost time. Instead of second we corrected out to 4th place.
On day three we had another sloppy start, behind Bright Star and we couldn’t get our air clear until after the weather mark, and then it was a parade. We wound up 5th.
Yes, we can gripe about the courses which didn’t favor our boat, but the bottom line was, we screwed up and so we ended up in 5th place in the regatta, and we deserved that.
But the sailing was glorious; beautiful blue sky, flat water, and nice breezes. We worked well as a team and we’ll be back next year. Other than my bad starts, for which I have no good solution, I have fixes in mind for all the other issues. I’m working on them already.
Meanwhile, Sunday morning we were well into the switch-over from race boat to cruising boat. The racing sails come off and after multiple trips to the storage locker the dacron sails on, solar panels, wind vane, dodger, awning, dingy, outboard motor, spare parts. Not a moment to be lost. Maybe once we get everything ready and untie the dock lines we’ll be able to relax. Right now we’re still running hard. It’s what we’ve been doing since December. It must be habit.
February is the middle of winter in Puerto Vallarta. The picture above even looks cold but actually the weather is great in February; we get cool nights and warm days. Rain is rare this time of year and fog is rarer still. Mostly the days are great.
During January we were racing at least twice a week, but in February it slows to once a week and that leaves time for other activities. One of those activities is whale watching. This year, after some reduction in recent years, the whales are back in numbers. Maybe it is the cold water; this year the bay is cooler than it has been. Everybody is seeing whales. We’ve taken friends out a few times to watch them, but whale watching is tricky; when you are trying to find whales they seem to keep their distance. On two trips we only got brief sightings; that was enough to call the day a success but not enough to give us the spectacular photo ops we were looking for. So we had nice days on the water with good friends but they were not much for whale watching.
On the other hand when we go out for a race the whales seem to frolic around us.
Mike Danielson organized a “Shake it Out” day on the water where anybody could go out sailing and Mike would give them trimming and tuning tips from his Cal 20. I had to pick up Phyllis at the airport so we didn’t take Wings, but Judy went aboard Nakamal. That day the whales put on a display that none of the “Shake it Out” participants will soon forget. The whales were everywhere and they were close.
There were plenty of back and tail displays but also several breaches, one just yards away from Nakamal. Moments later a whale surfaced just feet from away. Judy, from her perch on the stern of Nakamal, thought she could have touched the whale. Elinore was steering and was a bit nervous about these large creatures swimming right alongside her boat but they didn’t really cause anyone much alarm and Judy was just totally excited. They were all still talking about it when the boats got back to the dock.
Of course the crews were busy sailing their boats and nobody had a camera ready. Can you believe it, no photos!
I watched from the beach and I had my camera and a long lens but I was looking the other way and missed the best shots, and besides the distance was too great.
We have also had some cloudy days and some with stronger winds. Three times during the Wednesday Night Beer Can races we’ve been tested by bigger winds than are usual in Banderas Bay. We’ve had 25 knots across the deck which is perfect Wings sailing weather but it gives the crew some new challenges. One of those challenges is spinnaker work. We’re pretty good in the normal 10-15 knots we get on most days but I can tell you that when we were beating to weather with the boat heeled over, in bigger waves, and with the spray flying, the forward hands were nervous as they rigged the 1.5 oz. kite. I could see some anxiety in their eyes. Nobody would have complained if I had decided against the set. But we needed to get some more practice in these breezes and when we turned down wind I immediately called for the hoist. I won’t say it all went completely smoothly the first time but we got through it, and now, as Paul, the bowman put it, “We’ve looked death in the eye and we survived.” Well that may be a bit dramatic but jibing a full size symmetrical spinnaker in 25 knots of wind is a bit scary. And the next time we were better.
Now I know, we all know, that we can do it, and if we get heavy air in the next races we’ll be better prepared and confident.
Some of our competitors have been skipping these Weds races. But we treat these races as practices and these practices may help us in the future, and that’s the idea behind practicing, isn’t it?
We’re feeling good about the remaining races of the season, which is over in early March.
So February passes along, we are sailing a lot, our lives are full and everything is pretty good.
We hope you are enjoying the snow where you are, we haven’t seen any.
We were over early at the start and had to go back. That cost us two minutes and every other boat got away clean and they were gone. So much for a safe race, I thought.
We restarted and settled in on what seemed like it would be a slow slog back through the fleet.
Judy spotted the shift first. “The wind is now, 190” she said. She’d felt the lift and she looked at the numbers. It had been 228, now it was 190, a huge shift to the left; unexpected. It was only momentary but it was a harbinger of things to come. It swung right back to 220, but then returned to 208 and stayed.
“Then I’m staying to the left of the fleet”, I spoke to nobody in particular, “we need to protect the left side.” I looked over my shoulder to the right to see if anyone was coming our way. They weren’t.
When we tacked back to port the whole fleet was down to leeward. We were lifted up over everyone.
I felt some returning hope. After being over early at the start and losing that 2 minutes to every other boat this is what we needed to get back in the game.
As we went further up the beat I saw that Olas Lindas was still ahead but closer, and Bright Star was also nearby but the others were behind, well behind. I watched Bright Star as they came in on starboard and I saw we probably would cross them. We’ll be second to round I thought, that is great. Beautiful come back.
Olas rounded ahead of us by 2:35, still leading by a safe margin, and Bright Star was right behind us and they dogged us all the way through the jibe and down to the leeward mark. When we got there Olas was still only 2:30 ahead, so they hadn’t gained. Good. We needed a clean rounding inside of Bright Star, who was still right on our tail, and got it. We dumped bad air on them and they tacked away to the left, which was fortunate for us, it turned out.
Again Judy saw the shift. At the top mark the wind showed a big oscillation the other way. It touched 250 degrees. She mentioned it. That shift was more expected; it was what we thought would would happen as the afternoon went on. It would be permanent, and persistent.
“So this time we protect the right” and after re rounded the bottom mark we stayed on port until Olas Lindas and everyone else behind us tacked, and a little longer.
We sailed into the knock and when we tacked to starboard we were again lifted and everyone else was again to leeward of us, only on the opposite side. Sweet.
We were now into the race over an hour and the wind was building. It got to 17 true, or more, on that second beat. We had 24 knots over the deck and we plunged into the waves. The forward hands were doused as they hooked up the spinnaker. I wished I’d called for the heavy kite but there was no time now, just a few minutes to the mark. I prayed that the ¾ oz kite would take it.
“OK folks,” I called out, “we’ll go deep as soon as we round and we need to jibe ASAP, so get the jib down and prepare for the jibe.” I knew Olas Lindas would be reaching off to the right and I wanted to cut the corner on them.
“2:30” called Dick as he timed Olas’ lead. Oh, that’s great, I thought, we have a chance in this race.“They will owe us about 5 minutes at the finish, we can win this.”
The set went well and the jibe did too until the pole seemed to fail: Paul couldn’t get the jaws to work. Shit. Strong winds and the pole wasn’t on. The boat was rolling and the spinnaker was swinging around uncontrolled and everyone’s eyes were on Paul standing at the bow struggling with the afterguy. But he somehow got the pole to work and the guy in and the jibe was completed. I looked at Olas Lindas, they were barely ahead of us.
Now just hang on to the finish I kept thinking.
That last leg seemed to take forever as I watched Olas’s transom and tried to guess how much time separated us from them.
They finished and we came through 1:48 behind. No one else was close. We surely had the race and that meant we had the whole regatta. Fantastic!
So the Vallarta Cup was over and we had it. Four races, 58 miles total. We had three first places and a second place. But the racing was closer than it sounds. We traded the lead back and forth with Olas Lindas and at the end of the regatta our total corrected time difference with them, over all four races, was just one minute and seven seconds after eleven hours of racing. That is .17%. Less than a quarter of one percent of the total time.
Now we have a breather, just some Wednesday races, before Banderas Bay Regatta in late February.
Since we left Seattle to go cruising 20 years ago our family visits consisted of Judy and I flying or driving to the homes of family members at various locations around the USA.
Over the years we have had wonderful visits and we have always enjoyed tremendously the times we’ve been able to spend with family back home (Click here for photos. Be sure to click “Next Page at the bottom to see all of them) but we have always wanted them to come to see us at one of our stops around the world.
Up until now that has not been possible (except for Granddaughter Candace who came to Thailand to sail with us in 2007, and that was really great here and here).
This year however sister Jan and brother Tom and their spouses Howard and Kim flew into Puerto Vallarta for 10 days and we had a fantastic mini family reunion.
For all these years, as we’ve lived our adventures, we’ve wanted to share them with our loved ones. I can’t say how many times I have said to Judy, “I wish Jan could be here to see this.” Or, “If only Tom could be here now.” Of course that includes Howard and Kim. So when Jan asked me if they could come in November we were thrilled and said, “Of course”. A day later she informed me that Tom and Kim were coming too.
Now we had the making of a great party.
Just to be clear, they didn’t stay on the boat with us. Too small and too intimate. Jan and Howard stayed in La Cruz Inn and Tom and Kim stayed on their timeshare points at Marival and Bel Air in Neuvo.
Of course we got together every day for fun and games which included pool times, visits to attractions around the Banderas Bay area, and lots of really excellent meals out in addition to the great sailing trip. Most of all we had a lot of quality time with our family and we loved it.
We are all showing our age a little I guess, and maybe we should be slowing down, but during this visit we went full speed, at least as much as the Mexican heat would allow, and somehow we came away a little younger and a little rejuvenated.
But while we can't do too much about our aging bodies, at least when our sails wear out we can replace them.
In March we reported that our Kevlar mainsail was finished. In the Banderas Bay Regatta it finally self destructed with a hole up the middle big enough to walk through. It could not be repaired. The genoa was not far behind it. We had been expecting this for some time but even so, it was not welcome. We loved these golden racing sails which we've been using since 2007. We knew that if we were going to continue racing we needed to get new sails, but they would cost us plenty. Too much in fact.
So the hunt began for an affordable solution. Here is a progress report:
We found a used genoa in California that matched our boat, not quite big enough to be a #1 but it would be a great a #2. It was old but it was a good North kevlar tri-radial in very good shape, and best of all, it was inexpensive. We bought it and had it shipped to Mexico.
We found an unfinished mainsail at a sail loft which a customer could not take and which was available. It could be finished for us and would fit pretty well. This too was a very good price. We bought this sail and had it finished to our specification and shipped to San Diego where we picked it up.
A friend from the old days in Seattle told us he had a good (nearly new, used in only one race) heavy duty spinnaker which he wanted to get out of his garage. The price for that was too good pass up so we bought that too. We haven't gotten it yet, but it's coming.
Replacing our racing genoa proved to be the hardest problem to solve. No used sails could be found. New ones were going to be very costly. We've been working with several sailmakers, trying to find an affordable solution, and we're getting close, but we still don't have a new #1 genoa.
And the #3, which is also pretty trashed, will just have to wait. There is a limit to what we can do.
Meanwhile, we've gotten the mainsail and the #2 genoa and been sailing with them. They look good. The main is pretty close to perfect. The genoa was close but needed some work. We had it recut by Mike at PV Sailing and we know it will be a good sail for as long at it lasts. Old Kevlar sails don't have a very long life, but we know we'll get our money's worth out of it, it was cheap.
By the time the racing starts again in December we should be in fairly good shape; we'll have a whole new generation of sails. We also have quite a few other projects going on this summer. Besides the sails we're replacing a lot of our rigging, including all the wire halyards, we're repairing some damage to the deck, we'll have new rudder bearings, and we're repainting the main cabin...the list goes on.
Altogether it's a big project list this summer and this is not the first big project we've done on this boat. It's about the 5th. It won't be the last. Boats, especially racing boats, require constant maintenance but we'll keep doing it and try to keep Wings in good shape. Wings pays us back by giving us a comfortable home and great sailing days like this:
On Saturday we heard that the surf was huge at Punta Burros, near La Cruz, so we took the Nikon and some beach accessories and headed over to check it out.
The surf wasn't huge; more like 10 feet instead of the 20 feet which was reported, but it was pretty exciting. Our friend Sam said the waves were steep and angry and lots of surfers were staying ashore, but some were out and we got some shots off.
We tried swimming but just got tumbled in the surf, and there were stones as big as potatoes being tossed around which hurt our toes, so we just stayed ashore and watched the action. The surfers were amazing.
But we had a nice jungle walk getting there, and we even avoided tearing out the oil pan on the rough road going in.
When you throw in a nice lunch afterwards, it turned out to be a great day.
On June 1 we arrived back at La Cruz after a 1300 mile cruise to the Sea of Cortez. We did a lot of sailing on that cruise. You'd think we had enough for a while. But I have this funny thing about being tied up to the dock when there is a good sailing day going on just outside the marina. I feel like there are only so many good sailing days and I can't hardly stand to waste one.
But anyhow, it was Judy's idea to go out for a day sail, never mind that we just got back from the last one. She had her reasons. And I knew the breeze would be up, so even though I just put the sails away and washed the salt off from the last trip, I was ready.
Here's the excuse we gave: We needed to go out of the marina where the water is clean and check the bottom of the boat to see if the speedo is OK (because it was reading slow on the trip back from Topo). Then we need to sail a bit and see if it is corrected. So that's the plan.
C came along. C? C is our friend who has the shortest name on record. She is a sailor with a heart of gold and she loves to go out sailing. She didn't need to be asked twice.
We left at 10:00 AM, before there was any wind, and motored up past Punta Blanca and then anchored in the cove Rick told us about. It was tight. Judy said, "We should move". And C asked, " Why do we need to be here where there is such a small comfort zone?" I know when I am out-voted.
So we moved.
It was OK, we got a bit more room and re-anchored and then I dove on the boat and cleaned the speedo and checked the salt water pick up, and Judy and C swam to shore and then the wind came up so we raised the anchor got out of Dodge.
But that's when the day got really good. We put up the sails and headed upwind, towards the mouth of the bay, sheeted in. We sailed out to the Marietas, into the blue, into the hazy day, just easy sailing out into the Pacific Ocean. We had a beer. The dolphins cavorted. The sea was smooth and the boat was fast. The speedo worked. We had a nice sail and we talked and enjoyed each other's company.
Judy made lunch.
Then it was getting late and so we turned down wind and sailed back. C steered and she was fast; she hit 9.03 knots. But control was no problem. She said, "This is the easiest boat to steer I've ever steered on" and we never thought to be anything but relaxed. We sailed 21 miles and we all loved it.
So then we came into the marina with the main up and dropped it inside and got into the slip in time to put the boat away and go to the Mexican Train domino party where I had three giant margarita's.
So far this year we have had excellent results on the race course. We’ve won most of the important races and we got first overall in the Bandaras Bay Blast and dominated the Vallarta Cup with four firsts out of four races, (although one of those races was completely thrown out and nobody was scored due to a race instruction foul up).
This has been thoroughly enjoyable for Judy and I and our crew is ecstatic about our success. After the last Vallarta Cup race we toasted our victory with champagne and arrived back at our dock with smiles that could not be contained.
There is a lot of luck at work in winning any sailboat race but in our case there was also a plan. We decided last year that we would focus on three things that we thought would improve our chances.
They were:
1. Upgrade the Crew
2. Upgrade the Sails
3. Work on the Rating Problem
By now, 2/3’s of the way through the season, we feel that the progress we’ve made on each of these three items have produced results. Let’s look at each one.
1. Upgrade the Crew.
Last year we had a team of mostly beginners and they became a good crew. With practice their boat handling skills became excellent but Judy and I spent too much of our attention watching every move they were making and further, they didn’t have the racing experience to be able help us with fine sail trim or tactics on the race course. Our sail trim was poor, and we missed a bunch of tactical calls and I was often distracted from my driving. This year we purposely set out to add some people with skill levels in those areas.
Our crew-finding challenge here in Mexico is complicated by the fact that we mostly use other cruising sailors as crew, most of whom have arrived here on their own sailboats, and who, while they tend to have good sailing skills, often want to go cruising on their own boats so we lose them after a while.
We were constantly alert for good sailors who planned to be around a while we when ran across one we asked if they wanted to sail with us for the season. Some did, some didn’t. Some couldn’t commit and just came once or twice and then moved on but others came and stuck. It has worked out well. We found some great people and we now have built a great team with several solid racing sailors among them. Our boat handling, as usual, is very good, our tactics are much better than before, we have good navigation, and we have good sail trim. One area however which has been more challenging has been finding a good bowman who can stay around. Our latest guy has been absolutely dynamite but he has work commitments so we are back looking for a permanent Bow Person. That’s where the poster you see at the top of this story came in.
But, in fact, the whole team has been pretty solid. It has exceeded our expectations and it has helped us win on the race course this year.
2. Upgrade the Sails
Our racing sails were getting pretty old (8 years) by the end of last season and we felt that we were lacking in pointing ability and speed. They were also falling apart. Buying new sails is costly and time consuming. To get ones which we could afford was even more difficult and more time consuming, if not impossible, but we set out to do just that and that effort is still underway. In the meantime we took the our main and genoa, the most important sails and the ones with the worst problems, to the sail loft and discussed some recuts with Mike Danielson at North Sales. Mike understood what we wanted to do and he made some minor changes which really improved the sails. He also cautioned us about the condition of the sails. “These have limited life left in them”, he said.
Well, the recuts worked some magic on the shape. On the race course they are fast and they have held together so far this season thanks to a bunch of PSA sail repair tape and lots of patches.
We are close to having some new sails on the way, but in the meantime we feel we have achieved our sail upgrade objective and it shows in the results.
3. Work on the Rating Problem
Last year, even when we sailed a good race, we could not correct out over the top boat, a relatively new production racer from Europe. We felt they had the wrong rating but since it was the only one in North America there were no other results to base any change upon. It could be that their consistent wins were just the result of excellent sailing.
We lobbied for nearly a year for a handicapper’s meeting and when it finally happened in December we got some relief; the rating was changed, not the 24 seconds I lobbied for, but 12 seconds, and it helps.
Other improvements:
Judy and Nick have nailed the navigation task and we no longer miss marks. It is hard to overestimate the importance of this.
Dick has been calling the laylines perfectly and that has solved a bugaboo from last year.
I have had some really good starts, I mean really good starts, which is always a key factor in any win.
And all of the excellent crew work has allowed me to focus on steering which has also improved this year as well. Judy helps a lot with this by constantly watching the tell tales and my steering and coaching me whenever I need it.
We have had “guest visits” by some really super sailors and each has left us with some tips which we have been happy to follow.
All in all, we are pretty pleased with how our program has advanced. We hope we can keep it up for the rest of the season.
I am a sailor, born of a nautical tradition passed to me by my father and my Grandfather Alfred. I’ve spent most of life on my passion which is the sea and the vessels which go upon them. I have had many such vessels and now I live on and sail on the sloop WINGS.
which I acquired in 1986 with my wife Judy
who shared my passion. For ten years we lived on Wings in Seattle and sailed, including racing. Then we left the Pacific Northwest and voyaged across the world, across the seven seas, to faraway places, and made them our own.
For thirty-eight years I have lived and loved this life. I still live on Wings, in Mexico, and sail and race often. Judy passed away in June, 2023 and I miss her but you can still join us and sail the seas as we did for all those glorious years. Fred Roswold, SV Wings, Mexico
Wings About to Round 
Wings Leads Olas Lindas
Bonfire in La Cruz 
We left our wives at home, Judy, Gloria, Deb and Judy 
Navigation Brick
Yelapa
Five Guys
Wings in Boca de Tomatlan
Boca de Tomatlan
Judy at the town wharf
Boca Lagoon
Judy in the companionway
Boca de Tomatlan Chart
We Depart Tomorrow, With the Breeze
Pta Mita Fleet Play Mexican Train
Crossing Tacks
Making a Mop
Wings Sailing
Wings Sailing on Banderas Bay
Judy
Wings Sailing on Banderas Bay
Hamburgers on Wings
Going Sailing
Five on the foredeck
Wings' Crew
Wings Sailing
Wings' track
Circling Before the Start
Going to Weather
Crew Work
Winter Fog
Wow, That was Close!
Practicing Alone with the Heavy Kite
Approaching the Jibe Mark
Six of us at La Cruz Inn
Howard Steers
Jewelry shopping at San Sebastian
New Main
Wings sailing with new sails on Banderas Bay
Surfers
Fred
Sailing
Judy and C
Sex Sells
Wings.jpg)
