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The next morning, after signing in at the skipper's meeting, I went down the beach to find the lake still calm. We got a little bit of sailing in, but it was just finessing the boat through faint puffs of air. I rafted up with a couple of guys from Fleet 51 and chatted for a while, until they finally called the races off.
On Saturday, I arrived at the lake around 9:15 to find things looking way more promising in the wind department. Unfortunately, I missed the first race, not expecting anything to start before 11am, as I am used to in Southern CA. I the three races I was in, the conditions were awesome. After the second race (my first), 5 of us were on the beach, holding our boats and waiting for the next race.
"That looks promising," said Gordo, looking down the lake. There was a huge dust cloud forming at the other end. "The wind is starting to blow the sand off the beach."
By mid-day it was in the range of 20 knots, gusting to who knows what. Since we were on a lake, the water was pretty damned smooth too. And the RC was running these maniac single-handed 16 sailors out to B mark. It's quite an experience on a broad reach to B mark, with the boat maxed out, going like a bat out of hell. Forget about your crew dumping the jib in the event of a pitchpole situation. There is no crew. I just set the jib for max speed and forgot about it, concentrating on the main sheet and the tiller, the later of which was super-sensitive at the crazy assed speeds I was going. A gust would hit, and the boat would accelerate with spray coming off both bows and hitting me in the face as I sat on the rear corner casting. Some of the other guys were in front of me, others behind me, but we were all undoubtedly concentrating on what we were doing. I started contemplating what a pitchpole would look like at that speed. I would probably break something.
Maybe even break something on the boat, too.
At one point, I was on one of these "sleigh rides" and saw what looked like a 22 foot mono rounding B mark. I was approaching quickly, and was hoping he would hurry up and round it. After rounding the mark, he gybed, and the boat heeled over far enough to put the main in the water. He then kept rounding up into the wind to recover, basically, doing a 270 degree turn around the mark, turning back up directly into my path. I headed up, flew a hull past his bow, then headed back down towards C.
Twice on the way to C, I stuffed the bows to the crossbar, but managed to keep the cat on its paws. I saw 3 capsizes, one guy sighted using the wind, one got help from another sailor, and John Z used Gary's Solo~Right. I was on the beach when I saw John Z go over, not knowing who it was at the time. I asked another sailor if the guy would be okay by himself. The sailor replied, "He's okay. He's got one of those solo righting pole things."
How did I do? I sucked. I think I was probably 8th out of 10 boats. One guy beat me by 1 boat length in 2 races. But I had a hell of a lot of fun. At some regattas I've seen 2 man crews bail in conditions like I saw by the 3rd race. But we were all just having fun. These single-handed 16 sailors from Fleet 51 are a great bunch of people, and one hell of a skilled group of sailors.
This event is a MUST for anybody who enjoys soloing their Hobie 16 and enjoys racing. I plan to ink this on my calendar every November.
Bill Mattson
Reporting: Single hand Hobie 16 catamaran sailing on Lake Mead
Here's a first person account of solo Hobie 16 catamaran sailing from the Gold Cup Regatta that was sailed Nov. 8-9, on Lake Meade, NV.
I counted 10 Hobie 16 catamarans at the Gold Cup on Lake Mead this past weekend. While there was no wind for sailboat racing on Saturday, Sunday was awesome.
I arrived on Friday afternoon, to find the lake pretty glassy with very little wind. Beautiful place though, and I enjoyed the scenery, as I stepped my mast and spent some time tweaking stuff on the boat. I never got any sailing in, as there was no wind, so I left the place around 5pm and went to Las Vegas to play Blackjack and wait for my wife, my nephew, and his wife to arrive into town. I counted 10 Hobie 16 catamarans at the Gold Cup on Lake Mead this past weekend. While there was no wind for sailboat racing on Saturday, Sunday was awesome.
The next morning, after signing in at the skipper's meeting, I went down the beach to find the lake still calm. We got a little bit of sailing in, but it was just finessing the boat through faint puffs of air. I rafted up with a couple of guys from Fleet 51 and chatted for a while, until they finally called the races off.
On Saturday, I arrived at the lake around 9:15 to find things looking way more promising in the wind department. Unfortunately, I missed the first race, not expecting anything to start before 11am, as I am used to in Southern CA. I the three races I was in, the conditions were awesome. After the second race (my first), 5 of us were on the beach, holding our boats and waiting for the next race.
"That looks promising," said Gordo, looking down the lake. There was a huge dust cloud forming at the other end. "The wind is starting to blow the sand off the beach."
By mid-day it was in the range of 20 knots, gusting to who knows what. Since we were on a lake, the water was pretty damned smooth too. And the RC was running these maniac single-handed 16 sailors out to B mark. It's quite an experience on a broad reach to B mark, with the boat maxed out, going like a bat out of hell. Forget about your crew dumping the jib in the event of a pitchpole situation. There is no crew. I just set the jib for max speed and forgot about it, concentrating on the main sheet and the tiller, the later of which was super-sensitive at the crazy assed speeds I was going. A gust would hit, and the boat would accelerate with spray coming off both bows and hitting me in the face as I sat on the rear corner casting. Some of the other guys were in front of me, others behind me, but we were all undoubtedly concentrating on what we were doing. I started contemplating what a pitchpole would look like at that speed. I would probably break something.
Maybe even break something on the boat, too.
At one point, I was on one of these "sleigh rides" and saw what looked like a 22 foot mono rounding B mark. I was approaching quickly, and was hoping he would hurry up and round it. After rounding the mark, he gybed, and the boat heeled over far enough to put the main in the water. He then kept rounding up into the wind to recover, basically, doing a 270 degree turn around the mark, turning back up directly into my path. I headed up, flew a hull past his bow, then headed back down towards C.
Twice on the way to C, I stuffed the bows to the crossbar, but managed to keep the cat on its paws. I saw 3 capsizes, one guy sighted using the wind, one got help from another sailor, and John Z used Gary's Solo~Right. I was on the beach when I saw John Z go over, not knowing who it was at the time. I asked another sailor if the guy would be okay by himself. The sailor replied, "He's okay. He's got one of those solo righting pole things."
How did I do? I sucked. I think I was probably 8th out of 10 boats. One guy beat me by 1 boat length in 2 races. But I had a hell of a lot of fun. At some regattas I've seen 2 man crews bail in conditions like I saw by the 3rd race. But we were all just having fun. These single-handed 16 sailors from Fleet 51 are a great bunch of people, and one hell of a skilled group of sailors.
This event is a MUST for anybody who enjoys soloing their Hobie 16 and enjoys racing. I plan to ink this on my calendar every November.
Bill Mattson
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