From the washing machine straight into the dryer, what a ride it was.
We started off the race with lots of breeze and my handheld anemometer showing us gusts to twenty five as we bounced around before our start. We stowed the Lobster and went right for the reefed main configuration with our #3. We hoped for some improvement on the wind conditions knowing full well that the Lobster does not like big breeze. With the wind coming up from the south and the monstrous swells building, we knew it was going to be a long night.
We started the race at 6:20 p.m. and almost instantly started the washing machine process. No crew member would complete the race without some set of bruises obtained from the constant bouncing and crashing of the waves to hull. A comment and short discussion on the similarities of riding the rail to bull riding was made as the boat seemed to be swallowed in the troughs of the waves.
We headed South towards the Western Shore trying to steer clear of the South River whose flood tide we feared would draw us further west then we wanted. We tacked out and saw our competition in front, behind, along side and we tacked back to stay close to our Rhumb Line. We watched as their hulls disappeared first in the waves and later in the darkness as the sun retired for the day.
At night, the race changes and your focus becomes an apparent separation between the activities of the boat and keeping watch for traffic. Under the night sky, a single light may be your only indicator that there is a boat nearby. We watched boats turn around and head back home after what seemed like hours and hours in the washing machine made real by the Chesapeake. It was a dark night making it very difficult to see any traffic coming or going so the crew was constantly on watch.
For a moment we settled in as we watched the approaching “weather buoy” lights until two crew members exclaimed in unison “Fish Trap!” A quick crash tack woke us all up as we did our best to avoid all of what our flashlights could see. We were so loud that we were assured we forewarned several boats that were nearby. Afterwards tired and distraught we hung onto the rail awaiting for the skipper to call for yet one more tack as we slowly watched the red moon rise in the East.
We watched out and avoided at least five commercial vessels bringing our adrenaline back up as the night wore on. It was the two vessels, one South and one North that really got our blood flowing as we watched three sailboats narrowly escape the ship passing through in one of the narrowest parts of the bay. The red moon was up high as the winds started to lessen and finally give us some relief from the agitation experienced for much of the trip. Still a bit choppy we headed further South and on to Point No Point.
With some still awake, we watched the sun rise from the east with even more lightening of the waves and the breeze. Just a bit further and we welcomed our new friend the Potomac as we escaped the washing machine and headed into the dryer. It was smooth sailing but with an unlikely and unwanted shift of the breeze to the West, then Northwest, we knew that our Spinnaker run up the St. Mary’s was out of the question. We were fooled with a header at the junction buoy and had to tack out to honor this now troublesome mark of the course.
As the sun rose, hotter and hotter she became. With light breeze we maneuvered the river but no chance for a kite as the wind was abeam and forward for the length of our trek. In what seemed like a very shor