Jay's blog

Yesterday one of my sailing buddies was having a rough time on what should have been a fairly easy day for him. After a flip he quit the last race early and headed for the beach. I came in to find him sitting on the beach, half in the water with his Laser nosed up beside him. He was upset with himself – “I’m going to take up lying on an air mattress because I’m getting worse on this boat.” (All quotes will be changed to hide his inscrutable babblings.)

The Boston area winds were fine yesterday for my weight and a full Laser rig. We, Master sailors and women who have to choose between full and radial rigs, love it when we don’t have to make close-call decisions; yesterday started as clearly a full-rig day for me.

The mid-morning weather forecast wasn’t too encouraging, partly cloudy changing over to showers with thunderstorms predicted for the starting time of the Wednesday evening racing. New England weather is changeable and sure enough the forecast looked slightly better each time I checked in during the day. I finally decided to go out early, when the forecast said the conditions would be good, and spend an hour and a half practicing; then I’d see what things looked like at starting time.

This is New England summertime and a big lull is beginning to settling in. More and more days present the challenge of sailing the Laser with not enough wind. When there is no pressure, any motion in the boat threatens to knock the flow off the sail, but in order to learn to keep moving in these conditions you need to try things and that means moving around.

From the beach area, the wind ripples on the lake gave the water a deep green/gray hue. The monotone surface suggested no puffs and no lulls, just a steady consistent 8 to 10 knot breeze that should place a premium on sail trim and boat handling in the upcoming club races. This eyeball assessment didn’t come close to forecasting the squirrelly shifting breeze that played games all across the race course a half hour later with gusts that flogged the Laser’s sail and lulls that had me crowded up against the centerboard.

I’m trying to increase my skills and options around jibes. I’ve put in time swooping from broad reach to broad reach trying to keep up my speed as I transition from one tack to the other. I find myself stalling for a second after the jibe before I shift my weight out far enough to head the boat definitively toward getting the wind back onto the leach. Not a big issue, but an obvious place to practice and one that will give me a confidence boost sailing in a breeze and waves.

Some of you are already nodding your head in agreement that you know what I mean. But if you’re new to Lasers you may not have gotten to the “Aha!” moment yet.

I was out an hour early for the Wednesday night series. I had warmed up and spent some extra time running circles around a leeward mark. The routine began to lift my spirits and I sailed off to an empty patch and began to sail 720’s. A coach looking on might have found something to improve, but I had one of those moments when I began to play “out of my head.”

What in fact is practice? Is it all sailing other than racing? Racing other than important regattas? All sailing and racing until you quit trying to improve?

We talk about practicing to improve our Laser sailing and racing skills, but is racing different than practice? Clearly sailing alone and repeating boat handling or mark rounding drills is what we traditionally think of as practice. It would be hard though, to make a case against competitive racing also being a great practice routine.  Each time I put my Laser in the water, actually each time I visualize sailing or racing, or read a sailing book I improve my responses and or thinking the next time I sail. Which experiences are practice and what should we call the other experiences – real sailing?

It starts in the rigging area – the looks out to the water where there is scant evidence of any wind activity, the mumbled opinions about whether the race committee should postpone, a low-energy level prevails instead of the usual anxiety tinged pace.

The Sunapee Laser regatta was held in very light air broken up by a few very mild puffs and regularly periods of drifting. None of this seemed to bother Peter Seindenberg who sailed five firsts out of seven races. With his throw-out race taking away one of the non-firsts, that didn’t leave much for the rest of us.