4.50 from Lauwersoog

[Ignatios Souvatzis]

(This is not from the UK, and from 6 years ago, but might spark interest
in this years' event.)

4.50[1] from Lauwersoog
=======================

Sometime early in Winter G. had asked me whether I'd like to sail
the Colin Archer Memorial race[2] with him, he'd like to do it again.
I asked for details and, after cross-checking with family and the
vacation plan, agreed. He said he knew whom to ask for further
crew.

The Colin Archer Memorial Race was created dekades ago by Dutchpeople
who needed an excuse for sailing with their sporty buddies to the
end of the Skagerrak before having a cozy familiy facation on the
Baltic Sea. Thus the Notice of Race, sailing instructions and
anything else where in Dutch language. I fed the Notice of Race to
Google Translate and wanted to fine-tune the result. This was a
big mistake. Translating the sailing instructions directly was much
faster.

We sailed (with B.) from Hindeloopen (on the IJsselmeer) via
Kornwerderzand lock to Vlieland, comfortably starting in the late
morning because of the favourable tidal stream. We continued very
early in the next morning again because of the tidal stream; most
of that day there was no wind, so we used the engine. This didn't
disturb the seals; from time to time one would look around some
100m away, take some breath and dive again. Shortly before the
Westgat approach buoy we got wind, and could sail up to Lauwersoog
without much tacking. We passed the lock quickly and got a mooring
alongside another boat, with a guaranteed free port side - this was
on the path to the harbour's crane.

The radio equipment controler came and, after testing, certified
that it worked. The CAMR organization's safety inspector came and
checked everything on her list. Mostly, we were better equipped
than formally necessary (part of OSR cat. 2) - e.g., pyrotechnics
that can really be used offshore to get someones attention (instead
of: to show somebody nearby who's already looking for you where
you are), maps for all the German and Danish coast on our
side, not only approaches for four or five emergency harbours. Only
our balers (two) and guard rail (upper wire 60cm high) were exactly
the minimum required. So this was also done. (But some yachts had
a lot to fix; the last one brought their newly bought emergency
tiller to the skippers' meeting on Saturday morning.) Guido went
to the race office and returned with the start flag and the group
flag.

On Thursday we prepared this or that over the day, then went to the
Nasipan event (food, drink and merriment) in the local sailing club's
building). We met a German couple who sailed in the two-handed class
to qualify for some even longer distance race next year. A third
German-flag boat was rumoured to be there, but we didn't meet them.
On Friday the big lock-passing event took place; the lock only had
space for about 6 sailing yachts before the bridge, so it took quite
some time - there were 67 boats entered in the race! The front part
of the outer harbour of Lauwersoog also has a yacht marina; less
family style, more fast(ish) food places around, and info pavillon
about the Waddenzee - unfortunately closed in that week. The back
part of the harbour was full of small and medium fishing vessels from
all over the Netherlands - e.g. Vlissingen (Flushing) and Urk.

Start was on Saturday afternoon right outside of the harbour
entrance. The skippers' briefing in the morning was over, last
questions answered, the gennaker was stowed on deck. The start
was less confusing than that of the Rhine week. First start group
at 1630 local time, then 1640, 1650 and 1700 (so 0450pm for us).
In the first group, the former Volvo Ocean Racer BOUDRAGON was
pretty impressive - at the start signal, they pulled in their sheets
and suddenly were just gone.

Our boat (a Breehorn 37, design by Koopmanns) is a little bit more
clumsy. I was the designated timekeeper and start signal viewer;
to make my job more interesting, G. was tacking and gybing all the
time. And then, our start. Compared to the Zoutkamperlaag and
Westgat the Rhine is pretty wide (at normal water levels, maybe
not currently). The first nm the ships were following each other
like on a necklace, but then the waterway turns to the north, and
we had to be permanently ready for tacking. I had to compare map
to reality all the time to inform the skipper of the width of the
safe water area beyond the next buoy (the buoys themselves were to
be passed on the correct side, always), and sing out the water
depth. We'd started half an hour before high water at Lauwersoog,
so the dangerous areas weren't immediately obvious. Shouting was
to be heard from around; one ship informed another of a protest
pending shouldn't they return and pass buoy mumble on the right
side.

Eventually we'd passed the Westgat approach buoy (left on starboard
side) and everybody calmed down. Next task was to enter (and later
leave) the Texel-Elbe-TSS within a relatively small gate. The former
requiremend from the sailing directions to report to Netherlands
Coastguard when entering/exiting via VHF had been canceled at the
briefing; this was replaced by AIS. B. and I were on the first
regular watch from 2100 - 2400 and handed the ship to G. and P.
right after leaving the TSS.

When we awoke to soon afterwards at 0300, the Northeast was dying.
We had a bit of trouble to make the ship moving forward instead of
turning around while drifting by adapting the sheets all the time.
But a few minutes later the predicted Western wind came to us.
Next mark was the buoy EF/B in the mid of the East Friesland TSS,
also to be left on starboard. Additionally, a wind park is to its
southeast, and the stream was either moving us toward the park
(strictly off-limits) or a bit backwards, depending on tack. But we
managed pass the TSS and could leave our watch at 0600 for another
sleeplet. Daylight was no longer a problem for me...

That was the rhythm for the next days, only one of our sleep periods
was sacrificed for a meal. Twice in 24 hours, at 0200 and 1400,
there was to be a position exchange on VHF with all neighbouring
racing ships (of our start group, other start groups were offset
by one or two hours), mostly done by the skipper (his watch). The
wind slowed down, so we hoisted the gennaker. Our strategy was to
turn north late, to avoid the unfavourable stream near the Norwegian
coast and a predicted becalmed area.

One night around 0200 my sleep was interupted: "(Expletive!) All
hands on deck, we're dropping the gennaker!" We had only a small
useful angle to the wind ... bear away to much, and the gennaker
was "behind" the mainsail, come up too much, and we keeled a lot,
which was then difficult to control because of the small size of
the rudder. When putting away the gennaker sheet to help reduce
the pressure, the gennaker's tack had come loose and G. thought
that the gennaker was torn. We recovered the gennaker easily using
the sock, and it turned out that the tack line's carabiner must
have jammed somewere due to the sail's movements and opened. No
damage done.

Another free period was interupted early. On our watch, B. had
managed to keep the gennaker happy in the increasing wind, which
was not easy in the waves. But soon after falling into sleep we
were awaked to drop the gennaker again.

Our first 0300-0600 watch in the Skagerrak greeted us with light
fog, which only started to lift with the rising sun. During that
day we set the gennaker again, this time using the spinnaker boom
(that is, as a smaller spinnaker). We weren't supposed to report
to Tjoeme Radio either - mostly, because it doesn't exist anymore, its
VHF stations are remotely operated by Coastal Radio South. The Race
Committee monitored our approaches using AIS, and we used it, too,
to check our progress relative to the competitors in front. Would
they notice our increased speed and use maybe the spinnaker or
would we gain on them more? One, however, had used the gennaker
and was gybing from time to time to keep it happy. Finally we
detected our left-hand (and nearer) target buoy - an east cardinal
buoy that cautions against lots of underwater rocks. Our competitors
had passed it 25 and 10 minutes before us, but in corrected time,
this meant we were 5 minutes in front of one of them. After 69
hours one minute of racing, gained one place in the last two hours
(so 5th of 10 in the Vrije Klasse 2). The fourth was 15 corrected
minutes, the 3rd four (corrected) hours in front of us.

Somewhat behind the target line the waves got less chaotic, and we
took down the sails and entered Stavern harbour. There we played
harbour Tetris, in the end we were alongside another competitor, with
the afts of four others to our other side, at the corner of the basin.


showers/laundry
+-----------------------------------V------------+
| < harbour toilets
| <
| |
| Ice cream shop |
+-------------------^-^-^-^-^-----------------^--+
public toilets harbour master/race office

+--------------------------------------------------------
|#~~#####>~#####>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|#@~#####>~#####>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|#@~#####>~#####>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|#@~#####>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|VV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|##~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|##~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|##~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|VV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(We: @@@> others: ####>)

The showers were near, but first we (skipper and mate) had to fill in
the Finishverklaring - sail number? Noon positions? Special events?
Then G. took it to the race office.

We chatted with our neighbour: a former Oboe player, who had played
among other events at the Wagner festivities in Bayreuth, sailing
with a family crew. We discussed about pros and cons of the Ride
of the Valkyries as background music to a sailing race.

The next afternoon, 24 hours earlier then originally announced, to
avoid losing to many crews to early departure, that's before the
last few ships finished (or arrived at all if DNF), the final two
races took place: the skippers of the winning ships had to compete
in Optimists for a special price. This was at Larvik Seilforening
(Larvik sailing club), with pricegiving and (planned) barbecue
afterwards. We travelled there by bus - the club hasn't enough
mooring places for 67 guest boats...

The first Opti race was a somewhat gruesome view for anybody who
ever sailed one, or at least trained a kids' group in them: Many
were itting too far back, or trying to sail much to close-hauled...
On the second, some had learned the ways of the Optimist, e.g.
our neighbour Oboist, who also took the better tactical decision
and was a few seconds better than the first of the first race.
But unfortunately this was not enough for the first place in total.

The pricegiving started with an obituary - one of the founders of
the CAMR, now taking place for the 19th time, had died, and so
we learned a lot about how a bunch of Dutchpeople organized a
race to Norway and named it after a Scotsman in exile. Then the
prices were given (preliminary, as the last few boats were still
underway); in Dutch tradition for the first three of each group,
and the special price.

Then the party started... without barbecue. Due to the drought
open fire outside was strictly forbidden, so we got cold roast
instead, which didn't impact the mood. The crew of the Dancing
Queen, first of Vrije Klasse 1, whispered some time with the DJ,
shortly afterwards they danced on the benches while he played the
song of that name... Back in Stavern we watched the last two boats
coming in and welcomed then using our vuvuzel^Wfoghorns.

On Thursday we continued the journey, now in vacation mode; first
through a narrow passage through the Skerries into a small fjord
and followed it to the north. In the afternoon we moored next to
a small rock island between a line to an eyebolt in the rock and
our aft anchor, surrounded by a dozen Norwegian motor boats.

On Friday we continued into the Oslofjord. Most remarkable event
was a two-language Mayday Relay by Coastal Radio South - an Sailing
boat on flames had been observed near Stavern. Most of the followup
conversations were Norwegian, however, so we only understood the
Silence Fini after a while.

In the evening we moored at Oscarsborg fortress. There's a small
yacht harbour next to the cheaper of the two restaurants on the
island. One shower, key at the harbour master's, you pay with
credit card at an automat.

Oscarsborg's commander had opened fire upon the Blücher in the
night of 9th April, 1940, and sunk it, thus delaying the German
invasion by a couple of hours and enabling the governemnt and the
royal family to flee from Oslo (taking the gold reserves with them).
The view was incredible - how anybody could even have imagined to
creep past that fortress we didn't understand. The cannons used
were German-made, btw.: Krupp steel used to destroy other Krupp
steel. From up there we also had a good view at the last phase of
the lunar eclipse.

On Saturday we continued up the Oslofjord. In the beginning not
enough wind, but approaching Oslo it increased to 5 Bft. (and
sometimes more in gusts), so we rolled the inner jib away. We had
to pass some big passanger ship and through narrows, and finally
found a place in Aker Brygge marina - which is right opposite of
Jamie Olivers Italian and other expensive looking restaurants.
Less chic were the showers, which were individually separated by
a small dam from the changing room, with no hook for your towel
inside, and no drain in the floor outside, so everybody returned
dripping and the floor was a swamp.

On sunday we did a museum marathon - Fram museum (about Amundsens
expeditions), Kontiki museum (about Heyerdahls expeditions), the
maritime museum and in the end we took the local train to Holmenkollen
to look at the ski jump arena and ski museum.

On Monday B. and I left for Dusseldorf, while G. and P.s families
came. They were one day delayed. Pro-Tip: SAS flight are much less
overbooked (that is, not at all) on Mondays than on Sundays.


[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/4.50_from_Paddington
[2] http://www.camr.nl