2006 Bacardi Cup

Bacardi Cup Day Six:

Report By Tom Londrigan Jr. 

The weather forecast called for 15-20 knots with gusts up to 25 knots.  Eric Lidiceis suggested that we try the Quantum Z-6 main.  All week, we used the Z-4 which is full and has more power.  The Z-6 is made for conditions over 15 knots.  Yesterday Eric used the Z-6 and promised that he would use it today as well.  I bought into the idea and switched sails.  Unbeknownst to me, Eric switched back to the Z-4 and he finished a couple feet in front of me in the race and one boat in front of me in the series, , thanks for the tip Eric.

 The wind never reached 15 knots.  Well that gamble was a bust; time for another gamble.  We decided to take a page from the Brian Cramer playbook; get a head start.  The Race Committee immediately flew the black flag so Matt and I decided that the “Cramer” was too risky.  With 40 seconds until the start, we noticed several other boats were “Cramering” on the line.  As a result it appeared that we would suffer the consequences and dine on their foul wind.  So with 25 seconds, Matt and I trimmed the sails and started.  By the time we reached the Cramer disciples (one was my brother Pat) the gun sounded.  We were at full speed and the boys loitering on the line we just starting to fill their sails.  They were all also disqualified for starting early.  It was perfect, they provided the cover from the race committee and we were off.   After a couple minutes we decided to drag some weeds on our keel for a while to even things out.   After we dropped them off, we were still looking good.

 Yesterday provided similar condition as today and we learned some lessons.  One, stay away form Cramer, two the wind gusts came about every 15-20 minutes and would switch sides with every gust.  Before the race, Matt and I started to pay attention and when the gun went off it was a puff and lift from the right. The mark was set at 145 degrees.  We were headed about 115-120 degrees.  Matt and I agreed that we would continue on Starboard until the next gust in 15 minutes or so.  There is a downside to this strategy, 15 minutes tacks while fully hiked causes your feet fall asleep.  Sure enough, we tacked on a left gust and drove across the course with Xavier Rohart and Mark Pickel. 

 We were lifting up to 170 degrees when the Portuguese team approached on starboard.  My feet were asleep.  Matt told met that we were not going to make it across his bow.  I told him that I can’t tack because my feet were numb.  Also, if you recall we recovered the Portuguese skipper’s hat yesterday and he promised to let us cross on port in return for our services.  It was time to pay the fiddler our little Portuguese friends. As we crossed, I was not sure if we cleared; I looked back and saw Alfonso squint at me.  I yelled, “Remember your hat my friend.”  He smiled and all was well.  Karma, not Cramer was our new motto.

 We rounded in third place; legs asleep but happy.  We finished tenth in the end.  Joe Londrigan and David Giles were sixth.  Rohart won with Pickel in second but John Dane and Austin Sperry won the regatta.  Three years ago, Austin proclaimed, while totally nude in the men’s shower room that, “my name is going to be on the f---er someday.”  He was referring to the Bacardi trophy.  Well Austin , congratulations you did it in great style and with your father-in-law to boot.

Bacardi Cup Day Five:

Report By Tom Londrigan Jr. 

 Today’s forecast was for 10-15 knots from the Southeast and that is what we enjoyed.  We had a couple false starts.  During the starting sequence I noticed our Canadian friend, Brian Cramer, repeatedly setting up in the middle of the line with about a minute before the start.  However, when he set up, he was alone, and was already over the line.  I told Matt, “Look at Cramer! He is toast. I’m glad we are not near him.”  However, the race was postponed.

 During the second start, he did it again.  This time irony made a surprise visit as we were directly behind him.  I looked through my window and could see the middle race committee boat; they could see us, we could see them, a recipe for an OCS.  Despite all of this, Cramer was still a boat length in front of us.  Fortunately, the race was recalled.  I told my teammate Matt Pederson that Brian Cramer must be having a transient ischemic attack or (TIAs, a form of a small stroke) or he needs to see an optometrist.  As we all like Brian very much, I hoping that he is near-sighted.

 On the third start, we made a positive identification of Brian and sailed in the opposite direction at a high rate of speed.  We were off.  The mark was set for 155 degrees.  The wind was fairly steady but seemed to bring a right of left shift every twenty minutes.  We expected a left shift this time.  However, we could not hold our lane and worked towards the middle.  The wind shifted left.  We were ahead of the right boats but behind the left.  As we approached the top mark we were about 25^th.  Here comes Cramer.  He tacked in front of us; Matt and I looked at each other and sighed in relief.  George Szabo was approaching on starboard lay line and we had to decide what to do; tack or duck.  However, Cramer, also on port would throw a wrench into that decision.  We were mid-debate when we noticed that Brian Cramer was neither tacking nor ducking.  Interesting concept; ignore the problem (starboard tacker) and maybe it will all go away.  I told Matt to come up out of the hiking position to watch and see if Brian hypothesis would hold water.

 Neither boat flinched.  I told Matt, “Get the camera, get the camera!”  Then both boats punched to windward, only their telltales exchanged kisses and then both boats flipped to opposite tacks.  Cramer was now on starboard and heading our way (seatbelts everyone) and George Szabo on port, or so it seemed--- because nobody seemed to be on the boat.  The boat gave us a wonderful view of its keel; spotless, which is good advertising because the boat is for sale (see, Tom VanderMolen or Jon VanderMolen) but it was without crew.  George and his crew Eric Monroe were a little taken by surprise by Brian’s innovative and groundbreaking strategy and were well under water on the other side of the boat when they tacked; a ghost ship.  We drove our boat between theirs unscathed.  

 Heck, Brian’s plan worked.  No yelling as George and Eric were underwater, also there is no credible and accurate eye witness account if the other team is underwater.  Brilliant!

 One problem; I saw it.  I squealed like a little girl.  “I saw it George!  I saw it, I saw it, I saw it all, and I am telling!”  Right then, I looked up and saw the chalkboard that lists the boats over the line early and only two boats were caught; George Szabo, and, of course, Brian Cramer.  The wind exited my sails.  I wanted to rat on someone; accuse them of breaking the rules and feel better about myself.  Alas, I would need to find joy and satisfaction in my own success rather than someone else’s misery.  

 What is this world coming to?

 We finished 31^st.  Joe Londrigan and David Giles were third.  Peter Bromby won with Mark Pickel in second.  John Dane and Austin Sperry have a commanding lead going into the last day.  However, for us guys in the 4^th District the story is Jim VanderMolen.  Jim was a 23^rd, 23^rd, 15^th, and 28^th.  Steady Eddie; fast and sound decisions.  We are all proud of Jim and hope to see him keep stepping it up.  Way to go Jimmer!

Bacardi Cup Day Four:

Report By Tom Londrigan Jr. 

Wind forecasts for today were varied; north, northeast, to the east from 5-20 knots.  The course was set for 70 degrees and the wind was around 15 knots.  During the race the wind dropped to 7 knots and rose to 18 knots.  It started at 70 degrees shifted to 45 degrees and on the last beat ended at 115 degrees.  At the time it was a 50 degree shift.  Pat Londrigan and John Corrigan went for the mid-sixties to 30^th, many others benefited as well.  We did not and dropped 10 boats.

 John Dane won the race and Eric Lidecis and Mike Marzahl were second.  However, apparently there was an altercation at the weather mark with Eric and Mike and British sailor Andy Beadsworth.  I have not heard Beadsworth’s version of the incident but Mike explains that they approached the weather mark on port and Beadsworth was on starboard.  Mike claims that Beadsworth was over-stood.  Eric and Mike tacked at the mark. They claimed to have completed the tack and then Beadsworth had to alter course.  This is legal as long as Beadsworth was truly over-stood.  Beadsworth protested.  Eric and Mike finished second in the race but lost the protest.  These incidents happen all the time and the burden falls upon Eric and Mike to prove their case and they lost.   However, this story is worth mentioning because of the comments made by Beadsworth after the race.

 When Eric explained his perspective of the incident to Beadsworth, apparently Beadsworth, in justification for his protest, said, “I am a professional, and one boat is one boat.”    He also said to a friend of mine, “Hey, get out of the way, I am trying to make a living here.”  I looked in the sailing instructions but nowhere could I find a distinction for professionals and amateurs; the search continues.

 My brother Pat called home and told his son Dylan about how their Uncle Joe finished third yesterday and then told him that his Uncle Tom finished fifth.  Dylan was quiet, and then added, “well he must have followed Uncle Joe.”  No respect.

 During the mid-week awards, Tito Bacardi was bit intimidated by all the sailors well over a foot taller than him.  Finally, Joe Londrigan stepped up for an award and Tito was relived.  He rushed up and gave Joe a half hug and handshake.  He was truly excited for us little people.

Bacardi Cup Day Two:

Report By Tom Londrigan Jr. 

This is one of the few times when I get the chance to report on the race so I apologize in advance for the lack of goofy stories and odd occurrences.  This morning I changed my mainsheet system to duplicate Xavier Rohart’s but only because Peter Conde of Australia insisted that it had a 40% mechanical advantage during the last six inches of trim.  Did I just say six inches of trim?  Sounds saucy, somewhat sensual doesn’t it?

 On the way out, Alfonso Domindos of Portugal lost his hat, we retried it and he promised to let us cross him on port tack during the race… but only once.

 The wind was 15-20 knots from the Northwest.  The first start was postponed, good thing too because we were sandwiched between Xavier Rohart and Marc Pickel.  The second start found us in the third row.  It was postponed and Matt and I breathed a sigh of relief.  I promised him that nobody gets a third chance and blows it; we would take advantage of the next start.  We did.  We were 2/3 down the line tacked to port after five minutes.  Joe Londrigan and David Giles were below us and looked to be in the lead but tacked to starboard 2/3’s of the way up the leg.  We stayed.  At the weather mark, the leaders were our friends Jon VanderMolen and TC Belco!

 In second were Andy Beadsworth and David Carr of Great Britain .  Matt and I were third and Joe Londrigan and David Giles were fourth.  We sailed an Olympic racecourse.  This meant two reaches.  For reasons unknown, I did not install barbers haulers on the boat; essential to sailing reaches.  Nonetheless, we were still third at the jibe mark and Joe Londrigan had to give us room to round.  This is when I looked at Matt and said, “this next leg is going to be ugly, prepare yourself.  First, Joe is one of the best in the World on a hard reach and I suck, second, we have no barber haulers, third, we have not even practiced reaching together.  Joe will yell at me for slowing him down and in the end he will pass me, and the leaders will have pulled away.  I am making an executive decision, we are going to minimize the pain and let him pass right away… like pulling off a band-aid.”  Matt understood.

 Ironically, all the gains Joe and the next boat Robert Scheidt made on the reaching leg were negated when the judge’s boat made them do circles for pumping their sails excessively.  Hmmm, maybe they are so good because the rules seem to escape them?

 We were sixth the entire rest of the race.  Alonso Domingos moved in close at the end and I was prepared to ask to cross him but I never needed to play that card; I hope it is still good for tomorrow.  Joe finished third and Jon VanderMolen and TC Belco sailed a superb race to finish fifth only to be disqualified for starting too early.  We then received a fifth place for the race.  Back to the mainsheet system, Peter Conde was right.  It works great and it made all the difference in the world.  It must be the first mechanical thing I have done right in a long time.  Rick Brethorst switched his main tonight as did Joe Londrigan.

Bacardi Cup Day Two:

Report By Tom Londrigan Jr. 

 We arrived at Coral Reef Yacht Club but the wind was delinquent.  However, the forecast called for a southerly gradient breeze of 6-10 knots with sun and eighty wonderful degrees on the thermometer.  This all meant that the amalgamated sea breeze would arrive, according to Stuart Walker’s book.  The book predicted most everything.  A weak southerly flow from 180 degrees or due south, followed by the arrival of the sea breeze from 135 top 150 degrees.  The sea breeze would then build and veer to the right.  The race course was set for 180 degrees and most of the fleet piled up on the pin end of the line with intent of driving straight for the left side of the course in hopes of that delinquent sea breeze.  Everyone was bit overeager and the race was postponed within seconds of the start; time to try again.

 The black flag reared its fat head and everyone flinched a little, just a little.  Yesterday, the flag appeared and everyone cowered, no one was flagged.  Today, ten teams ate it, including the winners Andy Horton and Brad Nichols.  We figured that as long as the wind was still at 180 we would start closer to the RC than the pin then drive on starboard until the sea breeze and accompanying left shift arrived and then it would be all over but for the weeping and the wailing and the gnashing of teeth.  All worked according to plan.  Matt looked over his shoulder with 16 seconds and said, “Go”.  I followed his direction, we were off, and we crossed all port tack boats and drove to the left side.  We tacked on a velocity increase and minor left shift and crossed all starboard tack boats; we were a third of the way up the leg and in the lead; this shit is easy.

 Then, the wheels came off our little joy ride.  Within seven minutes, eighty of the 90 boats passed us and the last place boat was gaining on us and he was directly to leeward of us.  Something was not right.  When the first ten boats skipped happily by us from both the left and right sides, I asked Matt to check the keel for kelp, I could feel the unmistakable vibration on the helm.  Matt couldn’t see anything.  When 30 other teams had their way with us, I insisted that Matt look closer.  Matt saw the vile weed this time.  It’s was not too late, we could catch up.  Yesterday, Matt told me that he didn’t need a weed stick.  He claimed that if I heeled the boat up a little then he could reach the bulb of the keel with his hand and remove the kelp.  I laughed.  Sure, he is six foot eight but come on, get your head out of your ass, no one can reach the bulb.  Matt made four passes at that bastard bush with the weed stick but to no avail.  Matt asked if he could use his hand.  As only ten boats were behind us at that point, I decided to humor him.  He emerged within three seconds soaking wet but the weed was gone.  Matt was wet, I apologized for doubting him.

 As soon as the weeds were gone, we started passing boats.  It was a four leg course with a downwind finish; approximately 10 miles.   Within 200 yards of the finish, we were in 40^th.    I told Matt, “come on big guy we have only little left.”  Matt did a great job, he directed me to best start of the fleet, cleaned the bulb of my keel with his hand while hiking, and worked furiously to pass 50 boats.  A couple more yards is nothing; or as the German nihilists would say, “nussing.” 

 Unfortunately, my hiking strap decided to call it a day.   I went overboard.  I kept the mainsheet in hand.  However, instead of serving as a device to help haul my fat ass into the boat, the mainsheet just kept trimming.  As a result the main came in quick and the boat spun up into the wind with pole still up.  Matt jumped into the cockpit as the boat tacked and switched the backstays.  I grabbed the block on the end of the transom and pulled myself into the boat.  As I grabbed the block, I wondered, was Pascal Rambeau bullshitting me about why he turned that block to the side? 

 Matt switched the pole and we were back under sail.  We lost nine boats but Joe Zambella and Eric Beckwith gave me a 4.2 for the dismount and 5.8 for the landing. 

 When we returned to the harbor, I noticed Peter Conde’s Mainsheet system was just like the Rohart/Rambeau system.  Peter claimed that when the main is trimmed during the last six inches, the reverse block is 40% more efficient.  I decided to switch the mainsheet system.  I should note that I am not the most mechanically inclined person in the world.  The reason I went overboard today is because I failed to whip the splice job I did on the hiking strap.  My partner, Rick Brethorst, has been telling me for a year to whip the splice but I kept putting it off.  Karma, I guess.  Now, I will have used three different mainsheet systems in three days.  I have a sinking suspicion that this last change will to come back to haunt me.  

 One last note, I am not sure what to make of this but I find it funny and I hope to make room for it later in the week.  Send me suggestion if you have ideas; Joe Londrigan keeps a food diary that he reports to his wife Amanda on a daily basis.  “Dear Diary…”  you fill in the rest and e-mail it to me at tlondrigan@mwcllc.com.

Bacardi Cup Day One:

Report By Tom Londrigan Jr. 

After two days of tweaking and tuning, we were ready to race.  The sun was shining, a nice breeze was building from the northeast, and as John Corrigan would say, “it was awesome; and by awesome, I mean totally sweet.”  John is sailing with my brother Pat Londrigan.  Like all of us, they have been preparing for the regatta on Friday and Saturday.  Granted, it seems that you never get the boat just right but either way you go out and sail.  You should practice during the day, return later, and keep changing things, upgrading, and adjusting. 

 I noticed that Xavier Rohart and Pascal Rambeau’s mainsheet block at the end of the boat was perpendicular to the blocks on the boom (the opposite of the rest of us).  I spent a lot of time trying to figure out the advantages of the change but to no avail; so I caved in and just asked Pascal why they have a block that is inapposite to everyone else.  Was there a mechanical advantage; can they trim lower to the deck, etc…?  Pascal explained, “…Tom, the boat came that way.”  Sometimes, you can over think a situation.

 Anyway, back to preparations, at a minimum, you should go out to make sure everything works; this is the genesis of the “shake down cruise.”  Pat and John couldn’t find the time the take the cruise.  Instead, they labored with their boat on shore.  Apparently, everything was already awesome; and by awesome, I mean totally sweet.

 We arrived 45 minutes early for the noon star.  Pat and John, “Kojaked” on to the racecourse, just in time for the start.  If you recall, the esteemed Telly Sevallis played Kojak on the TV and he drove a very large car.  Kojak never had to look for a parking space; he always pulled up to the front of wherever they were going, “who loves ya, baby.”  Pat and John didn’t need to arrive early, everything was already… awesome. 

 The race was postponed; for reasons unknown.  Joe Londrigan and David Giles, both world champions, cleverly thought that the race committee decided that the wind had not settled and were waiting for it to shake out.  I was sailing with Matt Pederson, he is from Wisconsin and I am from Illinois , we haven’t won anything and we had no idea why the postponement flag went up.   However, we noticed that the RC did not change the line or the weather mark; curious. 

 Five minutes later, as Matt was rubbing lotion on my shoulders, we saw two low flying helicopters screaming over the horizon to the tune of Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries (see, Apocalypse Now).  I love smell of sun block in the morning.  After the passed, and started to circle the starting line, an young man on the RC boat ran up to the bow of the boat and dropped the postponement flag.   Mystery solved; don’t start the race until the media arrives for the money shot.  Every year the first start is recorded by a helicopter and is on the front of the Miami Herald.  Kudos to the media savvy RC.  Joe and David… sometimes you can over think a situation. 

 We had one false start then we were on our way.  We had a terrible start.  A couple Germans thought it wise to slide in between Mark Medelblatt and Mark Strube and us.  Within minutes, they found the position disagreeable and tacked; heading for the middle of my boat.  I dropped a few f-bombs (which seem to translate into German fairly well) as I threw in an auto-tack.  Their reaction to my blitzkrieg of f-bombs was to threaten us, and let us know, in no uncertain terms, that we should back off and not mess with them because, “we believe in nussing.” 

 Apparently, they were nihilists. 

 I think they were wrong, because it was obvious that they believed in tacking on our wind, whenever possible, they believed in sitting on our air downwind, and, ironically, they believed in letting us pass them at the finish.  Maybe, they should more concerned with Karma than Nihilism.

 On the way to the racecourse, Matt and I read Stuart Walker’s article on Biscayne Bay , we remembered one thing, if the wind is left of 100 degrees, go left.  The mark was set at 80 degrees, we did the math.  We went left, we sat in bad air and we went left, the nihilists tacked on us, we went left.  Unlike the nihilists, we believed in something, we believed in Stuart Walker.  We rounded in 15^th.  Thanks, Stuart. 

 As we rounded the off-set mark, I noticed a crack in our armor.  The seat of Matt’s sailing suit was exploded and split.   As he was putting up the pole, I was witness to the crack of the ass of a six foot eight inch Wisconsin man; half of the crack that is.   The whisker pole wasn’t the only pole going up at the off-set mark.

 The race was replete with 20 degree shifts and major swings in velocity.  It was a trying day and many great sailors had a difficult time.  Mark Reynolds put a hole in Erik Lidecis’ boat at the start and they finished together, first and second, respectively.  Karma.  We finished 14^th, the Nihilists in 15^th.  Karma. 

 Pat Londrigan and John Corrigan had serious mechanical difficulties.  Pat couldn’t trim the mainsheet tighter than a foot from the deck.  He climbed into the boat, and with all the strength an adult spider monkey could muster; he could pull no more.  John Corrigan climbed into the boat, and with all the strength of a 23 year-old baby-huey could muster; he could pull no more.  Not so awesome; and by not so awesome, I mean totally… whatever.

 As they were sailing in, the boys figured out that the mainsheet was run through the opposite direction of the ratchet.  I guess that shake-down cruise would have helped a bit.  Kojaking to the starting line didn’t help either; a little practice would have revealed the problem.  Afterwards, I helped Pat switch the mainsheet and now it is, totally sweet; by that I mean awesome.  Look for Pat and John to sail a little higher upwind the rest of the week.  Good luck, boys.