I’m about to lose the surf, so I lean in, steering up to a momentary reach. Then, at just the right moment, I roll the boat to windward, carving down to catch the next wave. Surfing, I follow the trough, sailing well by the lee. Sadly, I can’t ride this wave forever, so once again I lean in to head up. Carving S-turns down the course is a hoot. On the upwind leg, I lean in to head up and start my tack. Then as I near head to wind, I snap my shoulders back, rolling the mast hard over me. That sets me up for an aggressive flatten, accelerating my boat up to speed on to the new tack. A satisfying roll tack is a welcome break from ghosting along in light air.

I had always figured that the reason kinetics like these are so effective is because as we roll our boat, and thus rig, through the air, we create extra wind over the sail. Although partially true, it turns out a recent Cornell doctoral thesis shows that it is way more interesting than that. When we roll, our sail induces an invisible spinning tube of air called a vortex. It is this vortex that is the mechanism of optimizing kinetics.

The fundamental feature of a vortex that makes it useful to us sailors is that it is an area of low pressure. The thesis shows that creating and managing the placement of these low-pressure vortices enhances the overall lift on a sail. Lift is the principle driving force that makes our sail work. Airflow around our sail results in a higher-pressure region to windward and a lower-pressure region to leeward behind the sail. It’s this pressure difference that produces a net force forward on the sail, and therefore the sails ­propelling our boat.

The vortex we are ­interested in creating and managing is behind the sail. The low ­pressure of the vortex further decreases the low pressure already there. This lower combined pressure makes for a greater differential between the front and back. With that comes a greater overall lift, and thus force and ultimately boatspeed.   

The study of my reference was designed by professor Charley Williamson, head of the Fluid Dynamics Research Laboratories at Cornell University. Williamson is well-known and at the top of his field. But he’s also a small-boat sailor at heart. Brought up in England in the Laser, he knows kinetics as well as anyone.

Williamson’s specialty in the field of fluid dynamics happens to be vortices. Although much of his work has to do with aircraft and other mainstream applications, he always has his eye on sailing. “I realized these vortices are likely a leading contributor to the kinetics that make a sailboat go faster,” he says, “so I designed a doctoral thesis study to investigate further. I needed a doctoral student who had the background and knowledge to technically fit the bill, but also a strong sailing background.”

Williamson connected with Riley Schutt, who studied aerospace engineering at MIT for his undergraduate degree, then went on to be part of the design team for Volvo Ocean Race and America’s Cup programs. He now works for New York YC’s American Magic and is the head of technology for US Sailing’s Olympic program. Schutt’s thesis models the ­underlying mechanism of what makes these kinetics work. “Our goal is to explain the physics of these kinetic techniques and show the fluid-dynamics ­mechanisms that result in added driving force,” he says.

I recently had them explain to me a few vortex fundamentals that are relevant to kinetics, and here’s what I learned: A vortex is a region of low-pressure because spinning air is pushing outward due to centrifugal force, lowering the pressure in the center. We create a vortex, or enhance an existing one, by moving our sail through the air when we roll our boat. The harder a roll, the stronger the vortex and the larger the area of influence, and a vortex continues to spin for quite a while.

“It will still be spinning and creating its low pressure long after we have lost touch with it,” Schutt says.

A vortex is by nature stationary; it needs external influences to move. Williamson adds: “A vortex will move with the greater air mass that surrounds it, which is, of course, always going downwind. This means it passes quickly when sailing upwind, like cars going the opposite direction on a highway. But when sailing downwind, like a car slowly overtaking another in the same direction, the vortex stays close far longer.”

“If we can control where we can place the vortices, we control where the low pressure is, enhancing this effect,” Schutt adds. “The usefulness of whatever vortex we create is based on how long we can keep it close.” What that means is each kinetic technique takes advantage of the properties of a vortex in a different way. Let’s dive into the specifics.

The S-Turn

Downwind, when we bear away by rolling to weather, we create a vortex with the luff of the sail. The bigger and faster the heel, the bigger and better the vortex. This S-turn vortex is going with the wind and so are we, so it can linger behind the main and be effective for a while. The cars are going in the same direction. To be useful, we need to position it behind the main and then keep it there as long as we can. Because we can’t actually see it, this is not so easy. When asked if can we move the vortex or are we just chasing it, Williamson says: “Both. Because we are creating the vortex, we are in effect controlling and moving it. But after formation, it will travel with the wind and do what it wants, so we are no longer in control.”  

Eventually, we lose both our wave and the vortex, and just before this happens, we roll to leeward to turn up. This roll induces a leech, a vortex that briefly moves behind the sail, then quickly gets swept away once on a reach.  

Is this vortex more efficient bearing off or heading up? “More often than not, the ­bigger vortex with a longer-lasting effect is from heeling to weather as we bear off,” Schutt says.

My personal experience with S-turns confers. I feel a strong acceleration and sustained speed when I bear off and carve down. But when I head up, the feeling is fleeting, so I try to head up hard and fast. Because I am heading away from the mark on this reach, I am anxious to roll to weather again and bear off on the next wave.

Roll Jibes

Although not part of the study, it stands to reason that a roll jibe has similarities to the bear-away of an S-turn. We initiate the jibe with a roll to windward to turn down. This action creates a vortex at the luff that we can keep behind the sail briefly, then jibe the main. With the sail now on the other jibe and the boat heeled, we are set up for a hard flatten. Our flatten creates a second and more significant vortex, and if we bear off at the right pace, like we do in an S-turn, we can keep the vortex behind the sail for a while. Two rolls and the ability to follow the vortex downwind make a good roll jibe highly effective.

Flicking Sails

“Flicking” is a series of short pulses we apply to the rig while sailing upwind. Olympic 470 sailors are particularly good at this. While hiking, we can repeatedly propel our shoulders out. While trapping, we can yank down on the trap wire. The vortex we use is created at the luff, from mast pumping. The boat sails upwind as the vortex is swept downwind behind the main, so its useful life is short. Cars pass in opposite directions quickly. At best, it’s a few seconds in light air, and just a fraction of a second in heavy.  

Since the vortices created are small, we want aggressive pulses because that will make them spin fast, and thus be lower pressure. Since each vortex is fleeting, we need to create a new one as fast as the old is carried away. Any one pulse does not do much; it’s the cumulative effect that creates an overall greater lift. All rigs are different, but I feel as if there is a natural frequency of a mast oscillation in the range of one flick per second that works best. “Sail flicking can be useful in situations where you need to maintain driving force but want to point a little higher,” Schutt says. “It’s like pinching up to the weather mark or coming off the start line in a crowded fleet.”

Roll Tack

Like the flick, we use the roll tack’s vortex created at the mast, and that vortex passes from luff to leech behind the sail quickly. The flattened part of a roll tack creates one large vortex instead of the flick’s series of small ones. Because it is large, it can still be quite effective, even though it is just one.

A roll tack is most effective in light air. Because the steady-state lift generated by sailing is so small, any enhancement is welcome. “The effect lasts longer in lighter wind because although the cars are passing in opposite directions, both are going much slower and spend more time overlapped,” Williamson says. “But it is an important time because it is a significant vortex, and we are downspeed from turning through the tack because we use this large vortex to accelerate back up to speed.”  

My own roll tacks are most effective in light air and moderately effective in medium. Once it’s windy, the boat is easy to get back up to full speed after a tack. I don’t roll at all; I “flat tack.” Rolling just heels the boat, and that dumps power from the sail while the boat slides sideways.

About Rule 42

I would be remiss if I did not discuss the rules limiting kinetics, and there is no doubt that all the techniques we are discussing are kinetic. RRS 42.1 states as part of its premise: “A boat shall compete by using only the wind and water to increase, maintain or decrease her speed.”  Reading this, one would think all kinetics are prohibited, but not so. Rule 42 instead defines and sets the circumstances and boundaries to the level of kinetics allowed. Further, there is a Call Book that umpires use for guidance. Generally speaking, here is how Rule 42 applies to each of our techniques. 

A roll tack or jibe is permitted if the boat does not exit the maneuver faster than it entered. Repeated actions are prohibited. A roll, such as heeling as you head up just before the start signal, then flattening at “go” is accepted as standard practice, as is the S-turn cadence downwind. In both cases, if the heeling is in conjunction with a change of course, it’s all good. But an umpire will flag repeated rolls or a roll with no change of course.

Flicking is generally not allowed, but some classes encourage the athleticism of kinetics as part of the game. When the race committee permits it, we see 470 crews flicking their rigs aggressively from the wire, windsurfers pumping their sail as if it were a wing, and Finn sailors rocking back and forth as physically as their heart rate will allow. 

As Williamson puts it, “A ­vortex imposes a region of low pressure, and this can be a good thing if positioned correctly.”

Schutt’s final thought: “The hope is that sailors can use this knowledge to improve their sailing and ultimately be faster around the racecourse.” The thesis Williamson designed and Schutt carried out reveals the vortex as the mechanism behind kinetics, but it’s up to the sailor to take the next step.

Now that I know there’s a ­vortex behind my sail, I try to create and manage it better. Whenever I do an S-turn, I ask myself: Did I roll to windward hard enough to create a significant vortex? And where is it? Is it l behind my sail, or have I carved down too fast and shot past it? Knowing the why helps me focus my experimentation. My goal is to visualize where that invisible vortex lurks and take full advantage of it.

The post Why S-Turns, Roll Jibes and Roll Tacks Are Fast appeared first on Sailing World.

As the sailing coach at Point Loma High School, I spend a lot of time talking to the team about crewing. I also crew almost exclusively in my role as a professional sailor, so between those two experiences, plus sharing information about crewing with other pro sailors, I’ve been able to boil down the essence of a great crew into three manageable parts. Keep in mind that these are “big ­picture” characteristics.

Let’s first start with mindset. In the morning, before you even get to the boat, you should be thinking: “I’m going to help out today in any way I can to help the boat and the team be as successful as possible. I’m going to work really hard; I’m going to have a great attitude; I’m going to show up early, stay late, and figure out how I can contribute all day long.” To do so, research what your job is going to be before you go sailing. Find out who’s in charge of the boat. Ask them what you’re going to be doing, when you’re going to be doing it, and the steps it takes, whether it’s trimming the sails, doing the bow, calling the time or whatever. And ask what you can bring—food, water, etc.

Next, show up early to help rig the boat. Showing up early allows you to check out the boat and see how everything works. And when the rest of the team shows up, you will feel more confident and in the know. Then work hard—help rig the sheets (or at the least offer to help), pull out the sails, and do whatever is necessary to help get the boat ready to leave the dock. While rigging, you can earn bonus points by being safety-conscious, looking around to make sure there’s no chafe on lines, missing ring dings, or anything that looks like it may break.

When it’s time to get the sails up, take great care in handling them. Gently flaking them out or unrolling them before attaching them to the boat is key and takes coordinated teamwork by two or more people. Taking great care with the main and jib is not only fast, preventing wrinkles and encouraging longevity, but it also shows the boat owner that you understand sails are expensive, like to win, and are grateful for the ­opportunity to be on the boat.

If you’re not sure what you’re doing while prepping the boat and putting it away at the end of the day, ask someone in charge or watch the veterans on the boat. Learn what they’re doing so you can offer to help them next time. Eager and attentive crewmembers are hard to find and always asked back.

The positive mindset used when preparing the boat for the day is even more important once on the water. I’ll never forget sailing in an alumni regatta with one of the best high school crew I’ve coached. I had noticed that anyone she sailed with did better at practice, and in that event, I found out why. She was always happy and positive, even after a tough race. At that event, we started with two great races, but the third wasn’t so special. But we passed a few boats before the finish. After the ­finish, it would be easy to be a little bummed out, but instead with a smile she said: “Great race, Steve! Way to pass four boats on the final downwind leg! That was awesome.” She kept the vibe in the boat so happy and positive that we went on to have some good races and won the regatta.

Sometimes a good mindset means keeping the mood light. An example of doing that at just the right time was when sailing with my buddy Erik Shampain. After I made a bad tactical call, and then we had a poor leeward mark rounding, the skipper and I digressed into a nonproductive discussion about past events. Although we didn’t notice it, that discussion was distracting us from sailing well. After a couple of minutes of this conversation, Erik, having had enough, interrupted us by saying, “Hey guys, hold on, I have a goldfish.” We both paused and with curiosity asked, “What?” He said, “Oh, I thought we were talking about stuff that doesn’t matter!” We quickly got his point, and we all started laughing.

With the mood lightened and our focus back on racing well in the moment, we went on to pass 20 boats and finished the race on a positive note.

Here’s another way to think of maintaining the mindset of helping out and contributing: The skipper often has the most pressure and typically has invested the most time and money into making everything happen. Their reputation is on the line, and they feel it. So, when I show up as a crew, I think, How can I help the skipper do really well? How can I help ease their stress and help them succeed? That’s my main focus. I use all the skills I have to do that: sailing skills, but also people skills by being positive and a psychologist, saying the right thing at the right time, and keeping the mood light. If you can do the same, you’ll be asked to come back—probably forever.

Now, let’s talk about skills. In small, two-person boats, your job may be pretty straightforward: trimming the jib and using your weight to keep the boat at the proper heel angle. On bigger boats, like Lightnings, J/24s and PHRF boats, you may be trimming, have other jobs, or a combo of both. You may be doing bow or simply calling the time in the pre-start. But regardless of what you’re sailing, knowing what you’re supposed to do and when to do it. By doing those jobs skillfully, you can add value to the team.

One skill that everyone needs to be aware of, and probably one of the most important, is weight placement. Moving your weight around to keep the boat at the proper heel angle is everyone’s job, and it’s critical for boatspeed. If you grew up racing dinghies, you’re probably tuned in to this already, but if not, be sure to ask the skipper or whoever is in charge on the boat where your weight should be at different points of sail.

Terry Hutchinson likes to remind his crew to “mind the boat.” In other words, pay attention to what the boat’s doing—its heel, its speed though the water, and how it feels. Tune in and let the boat tell you what it needs. At the end of the day, as Buddy Melges always says, we are presenting the boat to the wind, from the time the sails go up until they come down. Our job as crew is to affect its heel angle for optimal performance and trim the sails well while the skipper controls the angle the boat is to the wind. These three attributes determine our speed. Therefore, always be thinking about the boat, minding and paying attention to it, and feeling and listening to how it moves through the water. Try to get to the point where no one has to tell you to move.

An easy way to think of weight placement and how much you should be moving is to break it down into two conditions: telltale sailing, which is in light to medium air, and hiking conditions, which is when the boat is overpowered. When telltale sailing, the skipper mainly drives to the telltales, and it’s up to the crew to move around and keep the proper heel angle, hiking in puffs and scooting in during lulls. Once the wind is up, hike hard and let the skipper drive to the heel angle while the trimmers ease and trim sails. Knowing the difference between the two modes makes it easy to define your weight-movement goals. You’re basically asking, “Should I be moving around and paying attention to the wind and heel angle now, or should I just hike really hard?” Knowing the right time to do each is super important.

Another consideration while moving your weight is the view of the skipper. Top skipper Greg Fisher tells his crew: “Don’t sit in front of the TV.” For him, the TV is the telltales, the forestay and the waves. The skipper wants to see what’s coming, and they want to watch the telltales, so as you move in and out, don’t get in their way. When you scoot in, especially on a dinghy, you should slide in with your hips first, keeping your shoulders out and down so you don’t sit right in the skipper’s view. On keelboats, when you scoot in, you might lie backward to keep the skipper’s view open.

When you’re part of a well-oiled machine—maybe you’ve been sailing with the same ­people a while—you can get to the point where weight placement rarely has to be communicated; everyone understands what you’re searching for most of the time. With that said, it’s also something the skipper should talk about based on the feel of the tiller. If the skipper’s not doing it, ask: “Hey, how does the boat feel? Tell me what feels good, and I will try to keep it in the sweet spot for you.” And if you do that, the skipper will love you for it because you’re helping them make the boat feel right—and go fast. On larger boats with more crew, it’s best to have a skilled sailor call weight movements for the group so the whole team can move as one unit.

About that communication: Once you feel your skills are pretty good and you are doing your jobs on the boat well and at the right time, you can start to add more value by communicating. There is a lot you can say and, just as important, should not say at any given time. On ­bigger boats, it should be defined who should be talking and who should not. On smaller boats, the communication may fall on you, so knowing what to say and when is very important. If your job requires communication, follow this basic rule: Communicate what is important based on the current situation, and realize that the situation often changes.

For example, on the way out to the racecourse, the discussion might center on what sails you’re putting up. Then, while warming up on the course, the discussion is on boat setup and racecourse features. In the pre-start, it’s calling time and communicating threats coming during your final approach to the line. Once the race is underway and you’ve had a good start, the focus will likely be on boatspeed; if you’ve had a tough start, it will probably center on escape routes.

Let’s say we just started the race, had a clean start, and we’re going to sail straight for a while. Communication might focus on puffs and lulls, or our speed in relation to others. Then, later, after tacking onto port, the best communication may be ­identifying right-of-way starboard-tack boats. Once there are no more starboard threats and your lane opens up, the attention shifts back to the most important thing, which is simply to go fast for a while. Later in the beat, as you get close to the top mark, you may ask the skipper the downwind-leg plan, then shift into calling traffic to help get around the top mark clean, with no drama or fouls. That’s what I mean by communicating what’s most important at any given moment.

You may have heard that a fast boat is a quiet boat. Jimmy Spithill spoke to our high school sailors recently, and they asked him about communication. He said, “You want to be as concise as possible and convey ideas with as few words as possible at the right time.”

So, your job may be to be quiet in the pre‑start, or it may be to call the time, and you should do that really well. You should focus on being great at it. Ask the skipper or tactician, “How would you like me to call the time?” Is it every 15 seconds down to two minutes, then every 10 seconds down to one minute, and every five seconds down to 30 seconds, and then every second down to zero? Again, you’re communicating what’s important at that one moment in the race and working to be as concise as possible. Not overcommunicating during a race helps the skipper and tactician concentrate on making the boat go fast and making good decisions. And in Jimmy’s world, when you are foiling at 40 knots, things are happening so fast, there’s ­literally no time for long communications.

I heard one of the coolest tips for short and sweet comms while on a US Sailing team call. Tim Wadlow, a two-time 49er Olympian, mentioned his team had a communication for going straight. They just say “happy.” It comes from one of their favorite movies, Happy Gilmore. “If we’re ever in a situation where we’re in a big lane, sailing toward the mark, and we’re not thinking about tacking, our goal is just to go fast for a while. So, basically, we’re in our happy place,” Wadlow said. “So, we say ‘happy,’ which communicates that we’re going to focus on speed and heel angle, and simply go straight for a while.”

Knowing this, the crew can get low on the wire and fully focus on heel angle and sail trim—concise and in the moment. He also gave an example where they’ve just rounded the bottom mark, the lane’s kind of thin, and they’re pinching. “I’m thinking about tacking, but I’m not sure I need to yet, so I just say ‘looking.’ That one word lets the crew know not to get super low on the wire and be ready to tack because I’m looking around and considering bailing out.”

These two words convey a lot of meaning, and they mean something to the people on the boat. Come up with your own words for short and sweet comms, and have some fun with it.

In sum, know each step of your job and have a repeatable process that you follow every single time. If you do your job at the right time in harmony with everyone else, the sails will go up and down well, the heel angle will stay consistent, and the boat will go fast. Olympian Dave Hughes, who is one of the best crew in the world, says: “Be a student of the game. Ask questions, be curious, work hard, and you’ll always be invited back.”

The post Three Steps to Becoming a Great Crew appeared first on Sailing World.

Finishing properly is too often overlooked, even by the top sailors. After all, it’s easy. All you do is sail between the committee boat and the mark, wait until you hear the horn, and head for the barn. By the time you’ve reached the finish, the race has been decided anyway. Compared to the hectic decision-making time of the start, that shifty first beat and those crowded mark roundings, finishing is like hanging up the phone after making a call—it just happens!

But what about when several boats cross the line overlapped? In one race at the 1979 Soling Worlds, 17 of us finished overlapped on a run. It certainly paid to finish at the right end of the line! Or how about racing in handicap fleets? You may be crossing the line by yourself, but often every second counts. I once won a handicap race on a 26-footer by only three seconds after 127 miles; if we’d sailed half a boat length more out of our way we’d have been second.When approaching the finish, there are several tricks to get yourself across the line as quickly as possible. As usual, no hard and fast rules apply; every race ends differently, and good judgment must prevail. For instance, you wouldn’t tack away toward the better end if that meant splitting from a boat you were covering—unless, of course, there were other boats close behind heading for the proper end. There are, however, some general rules to obey when competitors are close or when you need to stop the clock as soon as possible.

Upwind Finishes

Upwind finishing is very common in one-design racing and is being used more frequently in big boat around-the-buoys races. Because of the wide angles sailed on a beat, finishing to weather offers the most possibilities for gain and, of course, loss. It is a challenge that few have mastered. Strategically, the idea is to finish at the end that is farther downwind (usually the end closest to the leeward mark); you don’t want to sail any farther to windward than you have to (see Figure 1). This sounds fairly easy, but without a chance to check the line to determine the more leeward end, it’s often very difficult to do. It’s particularly hard when the race committee is using a large committee boat and a small mark, since this can cause real perception problems.

Choosing the correct end is a lot easier if you are finishing on the same line that you started on (as is the case on courses that start and finish in the middle of the weather leg). In this situation you know the relationship of the line to the wind and can figure out which end to finish at even before you start (as long as the wind doesn’t change). Basically, you want to finish at the opposite end from the one that was best for starting, which was the upwind end. But just in case an anchor slipped or the breeze shifted slightly, it’s smart to check the line again as you approach the finish.

It’s helpful if you can get an idea of what the line looks like before you get onto the last beat. You may, for example, sail right by the line on the run, or with an Olympic course, you might see the line the second time you round the weather mark. In either case, you should definitely try to figure out which end you’ll go for when you come back up the beat. If the finish line is not set until late in the race, it may be helpful if you can determine which end of the line was set last. That end will likely be downwind and/or down-current from where it should be to form a square line. Of course, unless you’re leading the race, you can always watch where the boats ahead of you finish. Chances are that the leaders, especially the ones that are close to each other, will finish at the best end.

Sometimes you will have no clue about which end is favored as you approach the line. Even if you’ve made a good guess, variations in the wind and the position of each end can change the optimal end instantaneously. What’s needed is a reliable way to determine where to finish as you sail up the last beat. The solution is relatively easy, yet usually forgotten in the complacency or frenzy at the end of a race. Essentially you want to get as close to the finish line as you can (so you can best judge it) without limiting your ability to get to either end as quickly as possible. Do this by staying in the middle of the course as you approach the finish, generally away from (i.e. in between) the laylines to either end; if you end up overstanding what turns out to be the favored end, then you’ve wasted distance.

When you inevitably reach a layline, tack on it toward that end. As you cross the other end’s layline, determine which end is closer and go for it (see Figure 4). It’s that simple! The point where the two laylines intersect is important for a couple of reasons: First, it’s the closest you can get to the line (which makes it easier to judge) without overstanding either end. Second, since you can then sail a close hauled course to either end from this point, it means all you have to do is figure out which end is physically closer to you—and that will be the favored, or downwind, end. When in doubt about where to go, a good rule of thumb is to get on the tack that seems more perpendicular to the line.

Once you’ve figured out which end is best, go straight for it. Unless there is a big wind shift after you reach the layline intersection, you’ll gain the most by finishing right at the favored end be­cause then you’ve sailed the shortest distance (see Diagram 3). Cross the line as perpendicular to it as possible. If the tack you’re on is already 90 degrees to the line, then keep sailing full speed ahead. If your tack angles to the line, luff before you cross, timing it so that your bow crosses the line before you lose too much speed. Finishing right at an end (instead of the middle) makes it much easier to time this “shoot” exactly right.

RELATED: How to Finish Strong

How far you can shoot depends on how much momentum you have; a light boat like a Laser might shoot only half a boat length, while a heavier keelboat might glide a boat length or more before losing substantial speed, depend on the wind and waves. Personally, I don’t rely too much on momentum to get me a cross the line; I usually wait until I’m half a boat length from the line and then turn the boat so it crosses perpendicularly. In any case, be sure to release the jib or genoa sheet so the sail won’t back and slow you down or force you onto the opposite tack. Of course, you don’t always want to blindly make a beeline for the closer end and forget everything else. If the line is square or if other boats are headed for the favored end too, the most important consideration may be how you position yourself with respect to your competitors. The boat-on-boat tactics of approaching a finish line require a whole separate discussion, but suffice it to say that with a combination of position and finishing at the proper end, you can often beat the boat whose nose was previously ahead of yours.

Finishing on a Run

The principles of finishing on a run (defined as a leg where you have to jibe at least once) are very similar to those for upwind legs. The most important objective is to cross the line at the closest point. While the better end on a beat is the one that is most downwind, on a run the favored end is the most upwind one (see Figure 2). Finishing there means you will have sailed the shortest distance possible, if you are finishing downwind on the same line that you started on and assuming the wind has stayed the same. If, however, the finish line was set during the race or there has been a windshift and you’re not sure which end is better, use the same technique you did upwind: get as close as you can to the line (without committing yourself to either end), figure out the closer end, and then head straight for it. Again, stay in the middle of the course as you approach the finish, and when you get to a layline for either end (your optimal jibing angle extended upwind from the mark), jibe on it. When you reach the intersection of the laylines to each end, simply head for the closer one (see Figure 5 below).

Like finishing on a beat, you should cross the line right at the favored end to maximize your gain. This also makes it easier to shoot the line at just the right time, which on a run means bearing away to a course that takes you perpendicular to the line (see Diagram 3). One difference between upwind and downwind finishes is that you can usually shoot the line from a little farther away on a run because there is nothing to slow you down (i.e. heading into the wind). Remember to square back your spinnaker and ease the main as you bear off. Another thing that comes up more often on a run is a buoy room situation as boats crowd the favored end. Each end of the line is a mark, so if you have an inside overlap from the end you’ve chosen, you’re entitled to room to finish there.

Reaching Finishes

Crossing the finish line on a reach seems like it should be the most straightforward of all, but in some ways, it is the most difficult. The idea behind a reaching finish is to head for the end that you’ll get to soonest. Unlike upwind and downwind finishes, however, this is the necessarily end that is physically closer, since you’ll go different speeds depending on which end you’re headed for. In a planing hull, for example, sailing toward the windward end may allow you to plane, so even if the leeward end is a little closer, the speed you gain by planing may be worth a couple of extra boat lengths sailed. With almost any boat, the broader the reach the more speed you’ll gain by sailing higher; what’s required for picking the favored end is a fairly tricky calculation involving which end is closer (and by how much) and how much your speed will vary if you head for one end rather than the other.

Reaching finishes are also tricky because you cannot easily postpone the decision of where to finish. Unlike finishing on a beat or run, there are no layline intersections to wait for; in fact, on a reach, the sooner you’re able to determine the better end, the less distance you’ll have to sail. Unfortunately, there’s not an easy way to tell which end is favored, especially since a reaching finish is almost never on the same line as the start. You just have to get the person with the best depth perception on the boat to figure out which end is closer and then add this into your speed/distance calculation.

Once you get to the line, the same rules apply. Finish at the chosen end, and cross the line perpendicularly. If you start heading for the committee boat end and then suddenly realize the pin end is favored when you’re 50 yards away, it may not pay to head right for the pin. At this point the best way to minimize your losses is usually to sail at 90 degrees to the line and cross it somewhere in the middle. But if you can pick the right end early enough, you’ll get the best advantage by finishing right at that end.

Get in the habit of finishing properly. Give the end of the race as much attention as you give the beginning, and avoid last-leg complacency. Even when your position isn’t threatened as you come up to the finish, practice shooting the line right at the favored end so that when it is close you won’t give up an inch. Finishing at the correct end can shorten the course sailed by large margins and therefore get the race over sooner. And isn’t the whole idea to spend less time on the course than everyone else?

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Editor’s Note: Since this story was first published, we acknowledge the author’s suggestions run contrary to Rule 42.3 and its limitations. Specific classes mentioned, however, including the Melges 20, do modify class rules to allow unlimited pumping. For more on Rule 42.3, Propulsion

A few years ago, I was working with two Melges 20 teams in preparation for an upcoming world championship. Both had world-class sailors aboard and performed quite well, but when it came to downwind pumping technique, there were dramatic differences. Generally speaking, one team worked mostly with large, powerful pumps while the other focused on smaller, short-stroke movements. Sometimes one technique worked better; other times it didn’t. So, we set out to quantify the difference in performance to get a better sense for which technique was most effective in various conditions.

Our boats were instrumented, and we had data feeds coming off each boat, so we could plot VMG. I also had a program called Dartfish, which among other things, could plot movement at the end of the boom, making it clear what type of pumping was being used. Tracking the end of the boom through the various pumping methods reveals just how dynamic these movements are. Impulse pumps produce pretty straight tracks, with the boom moving pretty horizontally. Rowing pumps, and sometimes reverse pumping, created tracks that were quite elliptical. The ellipses could even be diagonal, indicating the pumps were pulling down as well as in. We started plotting those data numbers on a graph and compared that to acceleration over certain periods, and we started to see a pattern that suggested where each type of pump worked best.

Rowing Stroke

This is what usually first comes to mind in any discussion of pumping. You lean forward, using your back, leg muscles and upper body, and aggressively pull on the sheet, much like a rowing stroke. It imparts a huge amount of energy into the boat, and it’s what you see when a bird starts to take off. It’s not making little strokes; it’s doing the big, long, quick strokes to produce maximum lift. This type of stroke is great in lightweight keelboats and dinghies, when you’re in marginal conditions, right on the edge of catching waves, and you need that big impulse of energy to get your boat accelerating onto the wave and being able to start gliding in surfing mode using the downhill side of it. It’s a relatively quick pump, but it’s got a huge amount of force.

We discovered that rowing the boat onto a wave with this stroke was a pretty good technique in marginal planing and surfing conditions, until you got “on the step,” meaning you’ve started planing down the wave, and the apparent wind has increased and shifted forward. The problem with a rowing pump, once on the step, may have to do with the fact that your steering angle is now much narrower, so when you do the big eases and trims, you’re stalling the sail at either end of the pumping range — the sail is no longer trimmed perfectly. The rowing pump also has the same effect as moving the crew weight. That roll, usually from zero to 7 degrees, can kill flow on the foils. Once on the step, it’s all about efficiency; you lose if you try to put too much energy into it.

With heavier-­displacement boats, the returns on the rowing stroke diminish rather quickly as the boat gets bigger and heavier. With a pro crew and linked winches, you can probably make it work, but otherwise, it will only stall the sails.

Impulse Pump

Now you’re surfing down the wave, but sooner or later, you start decelerating. It’s like the wave is accelerating compared to your speed, but in reality, you’re just slowing down. This is the time to give a short, snappy pump — one that gives just enough impulse to flick the mainsail and asymmetric spinnaker leech, imparting enough energy to reaccelerate and continue riding down the wave. Returning to my bird analogy, once it’s flying, it just needs small, tip-of-the-wing ­movements to keep it going. When we’re using the impulse pump, we already have a lot of kinetic energy going because we’re planing; all we’re trying to do is match that speed.

If the boat gets really loaded up, the short, quick impulse pumps will keep the boat going. The boat is quite delicate in the planing mode, so resist the urge to give it a big pump. Once the boat is planing, stick with impulse pumping. This type of pump will work on heavier boats, even with symmetric spinnakers, once on a plane. For the spinnaker, just make sure the guy and sheet are pumped simultaneously.

Reverse Pump

We always think of pumping as pulling, but the most important technique is actually the reverse pump. The idea is to let the sheet go out just a little bit — generally several inches or so — and then quickly catch it, or stop it. That reflexes the entire sail open and then reflexes it closed again. It’s the recharge pump that gets the flow back on the sail, so both the rowing pump and impulse pumping are closely connected to the reverse pump. Watch some really good singlehanded, dinghy or keelboat sailors, and you’ll see them flip their hands open; the sheet goes out, and then they stop it hard. They don’t pump; they just stop the motion. The whole sail opens up, regaining flow, and then closes again.

Suppose you have a gust coming on. You’re already planing, but you’re not going to deal with the gust by easing the sail out so that it’s ragging. So, you do a quick reverse pump as it hits, briefly releasing the leech, which gets rid of a little helm. You can usually feel that change. Then the leech snaps back in naturally. Or, it may be that you’re just trying to get over a wave. The boat gets loaded up for a few seconds, and that’s when you give it a little reverse pump. It’s an excellent technique for when there isn’t enough weight in the ­mainsheet to do a traditional pump.

The reverse pump is strong in all conditions. We use it a lot on asymmetric-spinnaker boats now because, with the ­windward-leeward courses, it’s all about VMG — how low we can go, not how fast we can go. On a TP52, even in planing and surfing conditions, the asymmetric trimmers will sometimes give the sails a little ease and then a hard stop. The sail is trimmed correctly, and then they just go out from there. It might produce a little curl. The same with the mainsail trimmers, and when it’s done together, the boat reloads, as it allows you to pump again. The reverse pump works well on heavier, symmetric-spinnaker boats too.

Unless we’re in very strong conditions, it’s difficult to jump to the next set of waves, so no longer do we sail straight courses. Modern boats sail downwind through as much as 80 degrees. They’re apparent-wind machines, and we can use the three pumping modes to sail quite different courses. When we catch a wave, we can go really low, using impulse pumps and reverse pumps to keep it going. Then, at the bottom of turn, crew weight moves to leeward, even on keelboats, to help the boat turn back up. We reload the upturn as the apparent wind moves aft, and put more force in the sails, then, with a big rowing pump, off we go again.

Combine the above with steering techniques largely derived from the 49er and 470, and downwind trim becomes dynamic to the point where upwind sailing is no longer the most physical part of the race — that’s now the downwind legs. Even bigger, asymmetric keelboats are beginning to be sailed like dinghies, shifting weight around to help steer in addition to constantly shifting from one pumping mode to another, working to promote and maintain a plane. It’s fast, so get pumping.

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While sitting in the US Sailing Team house in Aarhus, Denmark, I watched the Laser Radial World Championship medal race with the young U.S. kite-racing squad (which brought home a gold medal from the event). We were talking tactics, and how the Radial racing applied to the faster-paced, shorter-course kite racing. Looking out to the racecourse from the shore, we talked about new pressure coming down the course, and which side each sailor had picked, but the really useful imagery was the live overhead video streaming on the big-screen TV. The visuals on screen highlighted positioning decisions, showed the shape, speed and location of puffs rolling off the shoreline and gave a perspective of how each competitor’s mode decision was playing out on the racecourse. As the fleet got closer to the windward mark, and closer to our viewing location, the roar of the helicopter filming the action got louder and louder, drowning out the conversation. Over the din of the blades, one of the kiters jokingly yelled, “Man, helicopters are so 2000. Haven’t they heard of a drone?”

To be fair, the Sailing World Championships used both helicopter footage and drone footage to serve different purposes, and the product was some of the best racing coverage to date, but sitting with the young group of Generation Z kiteboarders, it was strikingly obvious the days of helicopter footage are numbered, and that the future of aerial video, and with it, the future of coaching, is in our hands — literally.

Over the past three years, drone technology has come leaps and bounds toward ­accessibility and practicality, and as a result, the number one piece of advice I give to coaches who are interested in incorporating drone technology into their toolbox is not to be intimidated. With the sensor packages and stabilization technology in today’s drones, the devices can literally fly themselves. Compact units make it easy to throw one into your dry bag with a few spare batteries and the rest of your coaching kit, and with a little practice you’ll be able to go from safely tucked away to flying in a minute or two. As such, overhead views of tactical positioning, sail setup and wind on the water have become a tool you can put to use any time you have a coach on the water.

Equipment

The most important factor in choosing a drone is ease of use. About $1,000 will get you a device equipped with a 4K camera, a few replacement batteries and the full sensor package. DJI is by far the most common manufacturer, and its gear is generally ready to go out of the box. The Mavic Pro series is about the right balance of power, size and speed for dinghy and keelboat coaching, and the price range between a used original Mavic Pro all the way up to a new Mavic 2 gives you really great options, depending on your budget.

However, keep in mind that the bug itself might not be your only cost associated with running your new drone program. Depending on the video file format that you choose to record in, 4K video will take up a lot of space on your hard drive, so plan on investing in an external hard drive for storage — the faster the drive, the better — and check to make sure your computer specs will allow you to play 4K video. Neutral density (ND) filters, while not necessary, are also a good idea when filming on the water, because they eliminate some of the glare from the water and help prevent washing out the contrast of features inside the boat, especially when a white boat is sailing over dark water.

Learning to Fly

When you first start using a drone for training, you’ll find that it will keep itself stationary in the air without you even touching the controller. As such, your job is to help it stay out of trouble, and put it in the right places to be useful. Start slow. Practice in an open field first to get confident in what the drone can do on its own, and what it needs help with, then slowly add in skills as you gain confidence. To use a drone from a coach boat, you’ll need to learn how to launch and retrieve from your hand. This is often the most difficult part at first because you’ll be manipulating the drone as well as the two joysticks at the same time. Don’t worry; at first, it seems like a skill that requires three hands, but with a little practice, you’ll be a master of holding the drone overhead with one hand, and using the other to hold the controller and squeeze the control sticks together at the same time.

As you get comfortable with the process, you’ll next want to try the same thing on the water, in flat conditions. As you learn to launch and retrieve in increasingly rough conditions, it will seem like the drone has a mind of its own, changing altitudes or veering left or right, but keep in mind that with a good GPS fix, the drone will stay perfectly stationary, so all of that movement isn’t actually the drone, but the water moving you around underneath. As such, the best technique in rough conditions is to place the drone in one spot to leeward of the coach boat, and let the coach boat drift down onto it.

At first glance, the number of menus to change settings can seem overwhelming, but the reality is that once you get everything set, you’ll dive deeper into the menus on rare occasions. That said, for windier conditions and faster boats, you’ll need to learn how to use “sport mode,” which sacrifices some sensors, automation and battery life for speed. This will be intimidating at first, but the key is staying high enough in the air, where there are no obstacles (sails) to worry about while you’re learning. I often switch back and forth between sport mode and normal GPS mode several times per minute to get into position quickly and then reduce sensitivity on the control sticks to maintain the desired position.

Once you’ve mastered the basics, the next step is to use the drone to capture perspectives that will offer relevant feedback. Here’s a quick list of a few perspectives to try:

Directly overhead. While this view often doesn’t show the whole picture, and can’t cover the entire racecourse, it’s excellent for looking at tactical positioning. It eliminates the “he-said-she-said,” and allows you to look at distance between boats. This is great for starting-line positioning, mark-rounding rules scenarios and looking at rate of turn in maneuvers. Use sport mode for this perspective to ensure that you keep the tactical scenario centered in the picture.

Third-person masthead view. A basic advantage of drone footage is that it’s very stable. As such, it’s a great tool for looking at straight-line technique and boathandling techniques because it gives you a stable video in high resolution so that you can zoom in to see exactly what hands and feet are doing at any given moment. During racing, this perspective gives a good idea of what your team is looking at, and what they’re going to encounter next on the course. This is where you should be toggling between sport mode and normal mode to maintain position behind your team.

Side-fleet view. While bad for isolating individual tactical scenarios, this view gives you a much bigger picture of what is going on across the racecourse. With this perspective, you can see the entire fleet, and while it might not be perfect for understanding boat spacing or positioning, it is definitely better than your average hand-cam video. Think of this as Version 2.0 of the standard racecourse coaching video. To make it easier to drive the coach boat and the drone at the same time, use sport mode to fly partway up the course so that you are slightly upwind of the fleet, then switch back to normal mode and just use one control stick to pan the view as the fleet gets closer.

Bow-on view. One of the great things about drone video is you can reverse a lot faster than a motorboat, and you don’t throw a wake. This perspective is a useful tool to look at headstay dynamics, crew sightlines and sail shape in a way that wasn’t previously possible. If you’re filming a fast boat, or filming in high winds, start in sport mode, or start high to ensure you can stay out of the way of the boat, then switch to normal mode once you’re confident you can stay out in front. Your sailors will expect the drone to avoid them, so if you get too slow directly in front, you risk getting run over.

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Spinnaker staysails have three specific tasks: cleaning up the wind going around the front of the mainsail, moving the center of effort forward to help balance the helm and adding more sail area. Genoa staysails are also used when jib reaching, but that’s mostly an offshore setup, and we’re going to focus sailing around the buoys. A spinnaker staysail has a subtle effect. It’s never going to make the boat just light up and really go, but if you average your speed with a staysail over the length of a leg, you’ll discover you’re definitely sailing faster, and the boat will be more controllable. On the TP52, we think it’s important enough to have the staysail on deck, plugged in and ready to go at the start of any race in which we might use it. On some boats, such as the Melges 32, the jib functions as a staysail, with much the same results.

For most high-performance boats, the staysail’s sweet spot is usually somewhere in the 9- to 15-knot range and 140 to 155 degrees off the wind. On smaller high-performance boats, they work best when you’re in the middle of the reaching range — not too tight and not too broad. With a symmetric spinnaker and sailing deep, say 160 or so, such as you might on a Santa Cruz 70, tack the staysail on the windward side of the boat, three-quarters of the way to the bow, which is like pulling the pole back. If you sail with the pole back 45 degrees, the staysail needs to be tacked to windward as well. It follows the pole. As a rule of thumb, however, anytime the pole is on the bow, then the ­staysail of some variety should be up.

At the top end of the staysail wind range, heavier boats start sailing deeper angles, and most high-performance boats just leave the jib up as a staysail instead of switching. Doing so saves the commotion of getting the jib down and the staysail up at the windward mark, then having to reverse the process at the leeward mark. It’s possible to do it efficiently, but you have to balance the commotion with just using the jib. The jib might not be as great a sail, but you already have it up, and in switching sails, you might lose more than you gain. If it’s right at the crossover for spinnaker staysail use, one trick is to set the staysail on the final leg, so it only has to be deployed and not taken down.

At the lower end of the staysail wind range, there’s a risk the staysail will take pressure off the spinnaker. As the wind drops, there will usually be pressure on the staysail sheet, but the spinnaker sheet pressure will get lighter. To compensate, the spinnaker trimmer will end up oversheeting. The spinnaker becomes unstable, and things quickly go bad. So, the toughest part is at that transition point, which varies from boat to boat. You might discover that the moment you put the staysail away, spinnaker sheet pressure increases, the trimmer can ease the sheet out again and you’ll be able to sail a bit lower.

The type of spinnaker you’re using and the conditions figure into when to use a staysail, especially in the lower-wind transition range. If you’re sailing with a light-wind spinnaker at the top of its range, you can deploy the staysail at a lower windspeed than with a heavier spinnaker at the bottom of its range because you can maintain pressure with the lighter-air spinnaker, but that will be more difficult with a bigger chute, with its heavier material. If you’re in a building breeze with a lighter chute and you’re thinking, I wish I had the big spinnaker up right now, that’s a really good time to use a staysail. The key is to use the staysail to add pressure to the boat but not take too much away from the spinnaker.

If it’s choppy and the boat becomes unstable, the staysail will not help because it once again takes wind away from the spinnaker. It’s also tough to use a staysail in puffy or shifty conditions, or if you’re having to mode and reach around. If you get a big header, it’s time to furl the staysail. Or, if you come into some dirty air, such as at a leeward mark, or the wind gets light, your spinnaker might start getting a little soft, so furl the staysail. The same is true if you have to begin sailing a deep to get away from the bad air. If in doubt about whether the staysail is helping, try furling it. If the other sails immediately start showing more pressure, then you’ve made the right call.

Trimming

If the staysail is trimmed correctly, it will clean up the flow on the leeward front side of the main. The ­staysail does this like a biplane wing, essentially bringing the breeze around the leeward side of the main and making a slot for the wind. When you look at the sail from the back, the trim of the staysail should match the trim of the main. While the goal is to match the twist of the main and spinnaker, it’s tough to do that because they’re completely different types of sails. The staysail is kind of halfway between, creating progression of twist from the spinnaker to the staysail to the main.

Rule No. 1 is to never, ever overtrim a staysail. You always want the luff a bit soft, so the windward telltales are always lifting. The top of the sail has to be really twisted to match the spinnaker, and the bottom of it must be flatter to match the main, so it’s very common that the top of the sail will appear undersheeted and the bottom oversheeted. It’s tough to get it just right because the sail has a really short chord length, and it’s a really high-aspect sail. If you get a big header that causes the spinnaker to start to luff, quickly burp the staysail sheet. That will momentarily take the staysail out of the equation and allow the flow to reattach to the spinnaker. Once the chute is full, retrim the staysail.

The staysail tack position and the size of the staysail are critical. Usually they’re tacked about 45 percent of the way aft from the spinnaker tack to the mast. Tack the staysail too far forward, and it will take away from the spinnaker. If the staysail is too big, you’ll end up taking pressure off the spinnaker as well.

Jibing with a Staysail

Most boats furl the staysail just before the jibe and unfurl it after the boat is to the new downwind angle. One common mistake is to open the staysail too early after the jibe. Because the staysail is set up to be sheeted at a lower sailing angle, unfurling it early only heels the boat and obstructs flow through the slot. For instance, if you typically come out of the jibe 10 degrees higher than your actual jibing angle, the staysail is going to be too full in the bottom for the correct sheet position. So, keep the staysail rolled up until the boat gets down to its normal downwind angle.

Using Jibs as Staysails

A nonfurling jib can be used to act as a staysail, although not as efficiently. The problem is that they don’t have enough shape in them to really do the job, plus they aren’t sheeted in the right place for a reaching staysail. But they can still help. Just be careful during spinnaker sets or when coming out of jibes. If the jib is up and sheeted, you’ll have to sail pretty high to get air between the spinnaker and the jib, making it very likely you’ll wipe out. To prevent that, ease the sheet until the sail luffs, or drop the jib halyard a few feet just as the spinnaker is going up. This allows the top of the jib to twist open. Of course, the sail will also come down a bit, allowing a lot more air between the spinnaker and the jib. Basically, you’re pretending only the bottom half of the jib is there, which still helps balance the boat, allowing you to turn down more efficiently and, once again, allowing more air to get to the spinnaker. You’re basically making the jib disappear for those few key seconds.

Think of staysails this way: There is only a certain amount of pressure you can get from any given wind velocity. A staysail will give you a little bit more, but it takes a percentage away from the spinnaker. If you’re sailing in moderate air without a staysail, you might be getting 80 percent of your pressure from the spinnaker and 20 percent from the mainsail. Add a staysail, and you take 10 percent away from the spinnaker, just a little from the main, but add an extra 5 percent to the whole equation. It’s a small net gain, but as long as it’s used at the correct time, it’s a gain.

The post Adding a Staysail to the Quiver appeared first on Sailing World.

At the Thistle Midwinters West, sailed in the Pacific Ocean, off of San Diego, each morning, surfers were eagerly launching off of nearby Sunset Cliffs. Surf’s up! It was great for them, but challenging for us. We sailed two days of clinic, then raced three days, all in significant Pacific Ocean swells, which gave us five days to figure it out, and as a result, we learned some valuable lessons.

Though not mountains, they were large, fast-moving hills. In the troughs we could only see the top half of another boat’s sails, and there was no hope of spotting a mark unless we were both on a crest. Going fast in these rollers was further complicated by their direction. On port tack, they came from the windward side. On starboard, we sailed directly into them. If that wasn’t enough, much of the regatta was in 7 knots of wind — not quite enough to power through the rollers.

Starboard tack was like a roller coaster, with the waves coming straight on to the bow. Climbing the hill was slow. It felt as if we were inching along, like the roller-coaster car was being towed up a long incline. Then, finally at the crest, the tow chain would let go and we’d accelerate down the backside. On the climb, the apparent wind shifted aft, but then shot forward as we rode down the backside.

Port tack was a whole different experience. No more roller-coaster ride; instead, the waves lifted us up from the side and then set us down a half-boatlength to leeward. Over the crest, the opposite happened — the backside of the wave pushed us directly sideways upwind, which resulted in huge apparent-wind changes in both strength and direction. As the wave moved us to leeward, we must have been moving downwind almost as fast as the wind was blowing because the sails collapsed. Then, the pressure would come back at the crest of the wave and, for a very short time, we sailed in the true windspeed and direction. On the backside, we surfed to windward and were in full-hike mode, depowering in the dramatic apparent lift/pressure increase. It was an odd feeling cycling through such radical differences every swell.

Summing up the apparent-wind strength and direction changes on each tack: The physics for each tack were quite different, and the difference in apparent windspeed and direction more extreme on port than on starboard. Yet, oddly enough, the solution on each tack was the same: Hold steady at a neutral course while adjusting sails and moving body weight. Port tack required extreme body movements with each massive apparent-wind change. We often went from full hike in the puff and lift to diving to leeward to keep the boat from tipping to windward. On port tack, we did the same thing, but it was subtle.

It was tempting for me on the helm to try and bear off to fill the jib, but regardless of which tack we were on, when we experimented with bearing off, no matter how far we bore off, the jib would never fill. The result was a loss of height with no forward gain. Likewise, when the apparent wind shifted aft and the pressure increased, it was tempting to go high, but every time we tried that, I could not bear off fast enough to get back on track and ended up stuck high and slow.

However, trimming constantly to match the changes was effective. As the apparent wind shifted aft, we eased the sails to match. When the apparent wind shifted forward, we overtrimmed a little. There was nothing more to do than wait a few more seconds until the apparent breeze came back, refilling the sails.

I expect if there were a ­significant difference in the nature of the waves, we might have handled them differently. We clearly learned that it’s never effective to bear off when the sails luff from a sudden apparent-wind change. If you have a nimble boat and the waves are slower, it might work to head up as the wind shifts aft. But for us, the real lesson about sailing in large rollers is to steer more or less straight and use our body weight and sail trim to adjust to apparent-wind changes.

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I’ve been sailing primarily on the J/105 Masquerade for the past six years, and in that time I’ve made every mistake possible (that I know of). Shrimping, big knots, torn spinnakers, you name it. But with each mistake, and each regatta, we’ve developed highly choreographed techniques to managing our asymmetric spinnaker. Fundamental to the success and efficiency of all our maneuvers is clean, consistent bow work, so let’s take a look and see how it’s done.

Start with the setup. On Masquerade, we set up our asymmetric spinnaker for inside jibes, where the clew passes between the spinnaker and the headstay during the jibe, and we launch out of the forward hatch. We use spinnaker sheets that are spliced together; the splice is about 18 inches back from where the sheets are tied to the clew with a bowline. The splice has less drag on the headstay during a jibe than individual sheets tied to the clew. With a single splice, there’s also less weight pulling down on the clew, which is important in light air.

We run the spinnaker sheets outside the lifelines to an aft block and then, as another trick, we run them forward through a stanchion base that’s in line with the mid-boat turning block, which leads the sheet to the cabin top winch. We’ve had the blocks blow up in a big breeze, and having it led through the stanchion base has allowed us to finish the race without compromising our performance too much.

When rigging the spinnaker gear, make sure the sheets, halyard, and the tack-line are led under the jib sheet. The most important tip on rigging for an inside jibe is to “tack down” the lazy spinnaker sheet. By this, I mean we have the tack line running over the top of the weather spinnaker sheet, which is lead around the headstay (for port roundings).

As with a symmetric spinnaker, I have the head between the clew and tack and the spinnaker halyard over the top of the leeward sheet. Next, I tape the halyard to a stanchion, below the lifeline. This keeps the halyard out away from the rig, and the tape will break during the hoist. The last thing I do for the setup is take about 15 feet of the lazy spinnaker sheet and place it on top of the spinnaker in the hatch. This ensures that the weather sheet will be loose during the set.

To set up for an outside jibe, where the clew passes out and around the spinnaker, the tack line will be under the lazy sheet. The biggest issue with the outside jibe is having sheets that are long enough, and not letting the lazy sheet fall over the outboard end of the pole. Many one-design fleets do not allow adding battens or extenders to the pole tip to prevent this from happening, but in open classes, or handicap racing, such devices can help prevent a lazy sheet from going over the bow.

Setting the spinnaker

As we come to the weather mark, the crew is hiking, and if there’s an offset in place, we stay on the rail until the boat flattens on the reach to the offset. Once it’s flat, I open the hatch, go forward, and pull the tack out past the pulpit. As we start to round the offset, I’m pulling the rest of the tack, and the head, out of the hatch (or bag), and as the mastman hoists, I run the luff tape to make sure there are no twists. A twist generally shows up near the head, and by running the tape it can be cleared quickly as it comes out of the hatch.

If your previous drop was questionable, then give yourself a couple of extra seconds to make sure it comes out clean. It is always best to have your mastman and pitman on the same page with you during any maneuver. If they’re watching what’s going on, they can control the speed of the set and allow the bowman to clear a twist or fouled sheet.

The key to having good sets is marking everything. For the tack line, we have a 3-inch-long mark at the jammer. The halyard has a mark showing full hoist, and the pole has a mark to confirm it’s fully extended.

As soon as the spinnaker is clear of the hatch, I go directly to the furling line exiting the drum and furl the jib. An immediate furl allows the spinnaker to fill more quickly. Once the jib is furled, I get ready for a jibe by grabbing the weather sheet, sitting low, and waiting for the call. At this point, take a look back; it’s always fun to see if the spinnaker is up and flying before your transom clears the offset. Make it a goal.

Assisting through the jibe

When the call is made to jibe, I stand up, go forward, and as the boat starts to go through the wind, help the kite through the jibe by pulling aft and down. How hard and fast you need to pull is determined by the wind strength; slow and controlled in the light stuff, fast and furious in the breeze. Kite size also makes a difference because larger kites require more strength in the breeze. On a J/120, with its massive spinnaker, we’ve found that in more than 18 knots, the outside jibe is much easier than muscling the entire thing through an inside jibe. With either jibe, the rate at which the trimmer tails can make or break a good jibe. The trimmer should be tailing the sheet for all he’s worth. The second trimmer simply eases the old sheet, and once the clew is past the headstay, lets the sheet run free (making sure he’s not standing on the tail).

Coordinating the drop

For sets and douses, our team has developed a choreography that has a few of the crew changing positions. The bowman always stays forward, but the spinnaker trimmer, who happens to be one of our bigger guys, bumps the halyard on the set, and helps get the kite down. Our pitman works the middle during the sets and jibes, but moves below to become the sewer man during the douses.

The second trimmer takes the spinnaker sheet on the set, then passes it to the trimmer, who is already on the weather rail and in position to trim. The hardest part of this crew-switch technique is the second trimmer’s multitasking. Before the drop, he needs to preset his jib, take the spin sheet from the trimmer, and then become the pitman where he drops the halyard and releases the tack line.

As we get ready to douse, I confirm whether the douse will be a standard weather strip, or a leeward drop. When it’s a weather strip, I call to the pit for, “Sheet, tack, halyard,” which reminds them the order of release. We put two guys on the bow and one in the pit for most of our douses. When the call is made to drop, the trimmer dumps the sheet, and as I start to pull the weather sheet to the foredeck, he dumps the tack line. This does two things: it unloads the kite and allows it to come down clew first, which sets the kite up properly for the next hoist.

It’s important to control the halyard drop so that the kite is brought around to the weather side. The forward bowman concentrates on gathering the foot, making sure the entire length of it is on board, and the aft bowman gathers the belly (running a leech tape as he does so). The sewer grabs the belly and pulls it through the hatch (also running a leech tape to make sure it’s coming in clean).

The entire maneuver takes 10 to 15 seconds, so the added weight on the bow is worth the efficiency and success rate in any wind condition. With a leeward drop we also have two guys on deck, but this time my call to the pit is to, “hold the tack and pole, blow the sheet and halyard.” The important thing here is to keep the foot stretched flat until the bulk of the spinnaker is under control; once it is, the sheet can be blown and the pitman controls the halyard drop.

Read more: Bowman Responsibilities | Trimming Asymmetrical Spinnakers | How To

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I’’ve often dreamed of how nice it would be if the wind just blew steadily with no gusts or lulls. Unless you sail in a wind tunnel, however, the reality is that the wind is always changing. That’s part of what makes sailboat racing so interesting. The ever-shifting wind creates opportunities that can turn a losing race into a winning one in the blink of an eye, and vice versa. To use these changes to your advantage, it’s in your best interest to understand the dynamics of puffs.

Most puffs are rooted in one of two possible causes–either turbulent mixing of the atmosphere, or airflow over geography. Mixing puffs are most vigorous when cold air moves over a relatively warm-water surface. In this case, the faster moving air from above mixes downward, bringing with it extra velocity and a slight shift it its direction. Geographic puffs are found anytime the wind blows from land to water. The turbulence, which is caused by air flowing over the rough land surface, extends offshore.

First, let’s tackle mixing puffs. When cool air moves over warm water, the air is heated from below, causing warm air to rise and cool air to tumble down to take its place. This is why winds can increase so dramatically over the Gulf Stream when cold air moves off the U.S. east coast. The additional turbulence mixes faster-moving air down to the surface. The mixing process is not a simple one, where the entire atmosphere mixes down all at once. Instead, it takes on a random nature and these downward tumbles occur in spurts, or puffs. The larger the temperature difference between the air and the water, the stronger and more frequent the puffs.

Mixing puffs are normally more frequent and intense in the late summer or fall when the air temperature tends to fall below the water temperature. Mixing puffs can occur anytime, however, when cool air moves over water that is relatively warm by comparison.

Sometimes, certain clouds can indicate the types of puffs you may experience on the racecourse. Puffy, cumulus-type clouds are typically found when the mixing of cooler air moving over warmer water produces thermals, which support the cloud’s development. On the other hand, flatter, more uniform clouds, such as stratus, hint that the atmosphere is relatively stable and there will be fewer mixing puffs–steadier wind and persistent shifts will dominate.

Most of you race in small, localized mixing puffs. It’s nearly impossible to predict exactly when and where a mixing puff will occur, so the best we can do is react when they become visible on the water. As the puff mixes down, it will impact the water and spread outward from its center in a fan shape. So boats to the right of the center of the puff will experience a left shift, and boats to the left of the center will experience a right shift.

One common misconception is that mixing puffs move directly downwind–if I see a puff upwind, it will eventually get down to me. Unfortunately, it’s much more complicated than that. A puff will often move at a slight angle to the mean wind direction, directed by either the wind above the surface or by nearby geography. This can explain why a puff that gets to one boat may not affect the others, even though they are in close proximity.

With geographic puffs, the distance from the offending landmass will normally define the intensity of the puff. Geographic puffs are very different from mixing puffs and thus behave differently. Their behavior is specific to the geometry of the terrain over which they flow.

The best way to understand puffs, both mixing and geographic, is to spend a good deal of time watching and recording them, and the best way to do this is to observe from an elevated position, such as the top of a mast or a bluff overlooking the water. The wavelets created by the puffs as they move across the water are their signature. The wavelets can give a relative indication of the windspeed in the puff and changes in the wind direction around the puff. Puffs appear as darker patches on the water, and these dark patches move with the puff, starting as a small patch, then spreading outward in a half-moon shape downwind.

Watching mixing puffs can tell you about their dynamics. Take some time before and after racing, and sail in a puffy breeze. Watch how the wind changes as you sail into and out of puffs. If you are on port tack and a puff approaches from the left, see if you experience a lift. Alternatively, if a puff appears to your right, see if you get a header.

One of the best times I had watching geographic puffs was while flying on a beautiful fall day across the Adirondack mountains of upstate New York. The elevated position allowed me study puffs as they developed and moved over the numerous small lakes below. The puffs followed a fairly regular and predictable pattern.

Lake and bay racers eventually know where the favored locations for geographic puffs and shifts are, and this is where local knowledge really pays. If you can, spend some time watching where the puffs are, and how they move. What should we be looking for? An elevated position is best, but sailing in the area where you normally race without the pressure of a race in progress can also be informative. This should be done with the wind coming from several different directions if possible. Before long, you should be able to reasonably predict where geographic puffs will form and how they will move. Typically the puffs will start in more or less the same area each time. This location will change slightly depending on the windspeed, direction and stability of the air.

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A smooth, efficient turn requires the input from the sails, hull, foils, and crew. Finding the right amount of each takes time and practice.

While coaching at the 2013 J/24 Worlds in Ireland, I watched a highly competitive fleet round the top mark, and then the gate marks at the bottom of the first lap. The lead group was tight, with the usual suspects among them, but there were also a few that were having the race of their lives—for the time being. One moment they were side by side with a top team. Then they’d lose a half boatlength while rounding a mark. With the next maneuver they’d lose another. And we all know what happens next: The top teams were able to get a clear lane and break free while the others faded into the fleet, never to recover. As I observed more, I could see how the best teams made each turn look effortless, much smoother and not just with rudder movement—they used all the tools available.

Let’s first look at how we turn the boat using the combination of rudder, sails, and heel. Fundamentally, the main and jib combination is like a windsurfer sail. On a windsurfer, leaning the mast aft shifts the sail’s center of effort (the center of the power in the sail) aft as well, which makes the board rotate into the wind. Similarly, trimming the mainsail increases leech tension and therefore increases leeward force aft in the boat, while easing the jib relieves force pushing the bow to leeward. When done in unison, the sail plan’s center of effort shifts aft relative to the center of resistance (the underwater foils), which makes the boat want to head up into the wind. Easing the main while trimming the jib does the opposite. Changing heel angle helps steer because of the shape of the hull. The roundness of the bow digging in to leeward while heeling makes the boat want to head up, and the bow digging in to windward (while flattening) makes the boat want to bear away. Steering with the helm is necessary and is by far the most reliable way of changing direction. We are not trying to eliminate using the rudder, we’re just trying to minimize its usage.

The right balance of helm, sails, and heel makes you smooth and fast. But how much of each should you use? There is no simple answer because it depends on the characteristics of your boat, the conditions, and how quick a turn needs to be. For example, if you have to do a big duck behind a boat, take the low lane out of a windward mark, or are executing a penalty turn, you might want to bear away hard. An aggressive bear away will require a substantial main ease and little—if any—jib ease while you heel to windward and pull the helm. While aggressively heading up around a leeward mark, at the start, or as part of a penalty turn, you will pull in your main as fast as you can while letting the jib luff, heeling to leeward, and actively pushing the helm.

Examining more closely such aggressive movements helps us understand the limits to the effectiveness of each method. Under-trimming either of the sails will cause them to luff. Over-trimming them will cause them to stall. Either way, the boat slows, and a slow boat doesn’t turn quickly. You can only vary from optimum trim so much before you will slow the turn. The limits are a partial luff and a slight over trim. Too much leeward heel will cause the boat to slip sideways and stall flow across the underwater foils, making it harder to steer. Change in heel angle of 5 to 10 degrees either way should be enough.

Too much helm either way (but particularly when bearing away) can act as a speed break. If it’s overdone, flow may even cease across the rudder and stop the turn completely. In short, if by using these techniques we lose too much flow on either our blades or sails we’ve gone past the productive limits. A maneuver that requires a quick turn will push the limits of losing flow. A maneuver requiring a small turn will only vary subtly from optimum speed.

Each unique boat will require its ideal combination of helm, heel, and trim. For example, if your boat has a small rudder, it will lose flow easily on the rudder so you want to minimize helm use and focus your efforts on using sails and heel to turn the boat. If your boat has a small main, it will lose flow easily, so more rudder and heel than sails may be best. If your boat has a small or inefficient keel, it will slide sideways easily, so don’t overdo it with the heel. If your boat has a large genoa, make sure you only vary slightly from optimum trim because it’s so important to the speed of your boat. If you over trim it too much, it will act as a break, and if you under trim it too much, you will lose a good portion of your speed force and that’s not good either. If your boat is lightweight, say a dinghy, much of a turn can be done with body weight. My Thistle, for example, has a large main and large rudder, but a small jib. I can steer well with weight, and I really focus on using the main because it is so much bigger than the jib. The rudder is much smaller on the Thistle, so we try to use it as little as possible. Conversely, a J/24 is a lot heavier so we still try to steer with heel, and since it has such a large genoa, we make sure that it’s trimmed well.

Armed with these basics, the only way to know what works best for your boat is to experiment with these characteristics. To start with, I recommend leaving complications ashore, such as extra crew and the spinnaker gear. You want to focus on the pure maneuvers without those distractions—they will be easy to add later. Next, experiment with turning too fast, trimming too hard, and heeling too much so you understand the limits of your boat. Then record some video as you experiment. For example, try a leeward mark rounding three ways: exaggerating the sail trim in one, the heel in the next, and finally the rudder. Then try subtle combinations.

Don’t underestimate the of value of helm feedback. You will know you have it right when you do your move with the helm feeling smooth and unforced. You should be able to immediately feel in your fingertips any unbalance in trim or heel. Then, watch check out your wake: If leaving a question-mark trail, you need to rebalance. If your leeward mark rounding shows a lot of turbulence, and your track indicates you’re sliding sideways, you’ve heeled too much.

Once you understand the right combinations for each move on your boat, you can add the rest of the team. Practice it so everyone knows what to do without much micromanaging; there is no time for that. Someone, usually the helmsman, will need to modify what is happening. For example, if you feel too much force one way or the other on the helm, recognize it quickly and call for a modification such as “less heel,” or “ease the jib.”

There are many factors that lead to sailboat racing success, but I find in my coaching that people tend to put the mechanics of turning as a low priority. They will work so hard to gain one boatlength upwind just to lose it at the corners. A small investment in learning your boat, then practicing to optimize your turns puts you in control of your race and that, for sure, is much more fun.

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