Dealing with the Demons

With nearly a week between me and the finish of this year’s Fastnet race, I am still fighting competing emotions about a race that dealt me both pain and joy in equal amounts.

The Fastnet race is Britain’s, most prestigious offshore racing event, and this 50th Anniversary saw and a record entry of 415 boats including an IMOCA class of 29 entries. This was a special occasion for British sailing and with the only British pairing in the two handed IMOCA class I really wanted to be on the start line. Despite only launching Medallia four weeks previously, after a six-month refit with our brand-new foils, the team worked hard to iron out teething problems and get the boat on the start. We managed to get six days of training before the race, three with my co-skipper Nick Bubb.

Like always I set realistic expectations for the race making sure I had a rounded definition of success that did not just include race ranking. For us it would be about trying to learn from the other big foil boats around us, it was our first opportunity to race as a double handed team so learning how we each perform and react under pressure was important. We knew the start of the race would be in strong winds and big seas and this was going to be a huge test for the new Medallia, which may show up any unfinished areas from the refit. And we of course wanted to share the story with our fans.

On paper we were the 16th fastest boat out of a fleet of 29 so I benched marked the top half of the fleet for where I wanted to be, and had my eye on the boats of the same generation as mine, who have also made the switch to big foils.

I was nervous at the start. The forecast was mean for the first 12 hours with a front passing over the fleet that could give gusts up to 50 knots and huge steep waves in the English Channel. Making our way out of the confined space in the Solent, seemed like the greatest challenge. These boats are huge and wide, visibility from inside the cockpit it limited and closing speeds with other boats can be up to 15 knots, leaving little time for last minute avoidance. The race starts off Cowes and the course would take us west, through an ever-decreasing gap between the mainland and the isle of Wight. The narrowest point our fleet would have to squeeze through would be at Hurst castle where the navigable space of water is half a mile wide – a distance that can be travelled in 3 minutes by an IMOCA sailing upwind.

With this in mind I was focussed on staying out of trouble before and at the start. Pre start can be the most challenging time navigating a large fast boat in a small area. There a lot of other boats milling around the starting area, going through the RORC pre-race identification gates, killing time, or just excited to see the other classes start. Unlike a start when the fleet is all generally going in the same direction, other boat’s actions are less predictable before the start and their attention less sharp. I was on high alert, adrenaline running hard through me and my stomach fluttering. I wanted to start the race cleanly and leave the Solent with no problems. We chose a conservative set up, using two reefs in the mainsail, our small J3 jib and 40% foil extension. I knew that the more experienced sailors would be on 80% foil extension for the beat out of the Solent and the boat was capable of handling that additional power. However, with only six days of training behind us and never having sailed upwind in above 20 knots with the new foils I was worried about handling the boat and wanted to stay in control until we had more sea room.

With this reduced power set up, it was going to be important for us to be in the front row on the start line. I wanted to be close and hang on to the faster newer boats as we left the Solent so we could learn from them and compare to them when we wound things up in the English Channel.

We found our line for the start and created a space. With two minutes to go I could see we were going to be earlier than I had hoped but believed I had just enough room to sail slowly to the line and power up at the last moment. My calculations were out, encouraged by the other boats and not paying attention to my own plan, we put the bow down too early and crossed the line ahead of the gun, receiving an instant two-hour penalty.

In the grand scheme of things, this was disappointing but not a disaster. The main objective of the race was to line up with 2024 generation boats and our start allowed us to do exactly that. We powered off the line alongside Charal and For The Planet, two boats and sailors I very much aspire to be close to on the water. We launched ourselves West, Nick and I intently focused, speaking to each other all the time about what we saw, data, boats, surroundings. It was intensely exciting and we were fast. After half an hour on the water, we were hanging on to the front of the fleet and decided to drop the foils down to 60%, still erring on the side of caution to keep control but not wanting to fall back in the fleet. Medallia was going so well. We were holding pace with the top ten, and felt in control. Passing through the gap at Hurst Castle, things felt good. We were so close to escaping the Solent and lying in 10th position after an hour and a half of intense racing.

And that is where it all changed. While passing through Hurst, our J2 big jib unfurled during a tack. We were left in over 30 knots of wind with the huge sail flapping out of control. We were not able to furl it away, we were in a confined space with 380 boats coming out of the Solent behind us. The sail had already ripped along the bottom and would destroy itself further through flapping if we left it out, so we had no choice but to turn around and sail back the way we had come with the wind behind us. Doing this we now faced the oncoming traffic of boats, all managing these difficult conditions and trying to head out of the Solent. I had to steer my way through and around these boats while Nick tried to manage the headsail which had now wrapped itself around the forestay and could not be sheeted in or furled away. It took us around an hour to sort the mess out and furl the J2, during which time we had pretty much sailed back to the start line at Cowes. The visibility was terrible, the wind and sea state continued to build. While Nick was on the foredeck I had to keep running backwards and forwards to be by the tiller when oncoming boats waivered in their course and it was unclear the best way to avoid them. A couple of times trying to control the jib we were both thrown across the deck. In my experience as a yacht skipper, I could see this being a situation that could easily evolve to catastrophe; worsening conditions, navigation in confined waters, lots of traffic, attention split between solving a big problem onboard and keeping the boat on a safe course. I was thankful there were two of us onboard so I could focus on keeping the boat safe.

Once the furling line was reinstated and the jib away, we rolled out the J3 again to start our way upwind and I instantly saw a hole in that sail too. Evidently the flogging J2 must have punched a hole in the J3 while I was trying to avoid boats on our way back through Hurst. My heart plunged. We had no upwind sails left except the tiny orange storm jib. The storm jib would serve us well overnight but once the front had passed and we were sailing in more moderate and even light winds, we would be seriously underpowered, not only did we now have a lot of miles between us and the fleet, but we were totally handicapped.

I can understand why someone might chose to retire from the race in those circumstances. I felt beaten and so unbelievably disappointed but not once did I consider giving up. We had set out our objectives before the race. Learning from the other boats would not be possible but we could still learn, managing the boat, trying new things, working with each other. We could try and catch up the back of the fleet, knowing we were in a reduced power state and we would be testing the boat all the way.

We swung the bow back upwind, restarted the Fastnet race in last position on the water. Over 40 miles behind the fleet but not beaten. I put the disappointment to one side, wrapped it up tightly, not to be let out while we were on the water. It was now our job to make the most of our circumstances, we still have an awesome race to sail, difficult conditions to manage, a new boat to learn, test and enjoy and we were fine. Nick never wavered and shared my mindset. We battled out of the Solent, listening to the rest of the drama of the race unfold on the radio, there were many retirements in the first 12 hours. Dismastings, one boat sinking. We had front row seats as the Yarmouth lifeboat burst through the overfalls at the Needles on their way to pluck two sailors from their life raft. I have so much respect for those crews, the conditions were horrendous and these people are volunteers who put their lives on hold to save the lives of others.

Once out in the channel, we dropped off high alert, settled into a rhythm, eating, sleeping, looking after ourselves and Medallia felt good. Despite the huge waves and strong winds, the boat ploughed on. It felt strong, and like it was meant to be in that environment. I sat without a waterproof jacket on, in my bucket seat, under the bubble window in the cockpit. Watching, listening, feeling the boat. I felt grateful to be in my boat and not on a smaller one where the sailors would be having a much harder time than me.

I won’t give you a blow-by-blow account of the rest of the race. We made the most of what we had, we sailed hard, we learned how to work with each other and eventually caught up the back of the IMOCA fleet, finishing ahead of one boat and within five minutes of another two. We were pleased with our learnings and the time we had made up – as the fleet had stretched out and compressed, we had caught up by forty-five miles over the space of two days with a reduced sail plan.

Sitting here now, one week later the demons of disappointment have been plaguing me for the last few days. This race was so far from my aspirations. Our huge problems at the beginning were avoidable and the loss of opportunity that mistake cost us digs a hole in my in my self-confidence and my ego. I am disappointed in myself. I know we made the best of the race. I know that the boat showed its raw potential – it is fast and it will be faster. By finishing the race, I banked more Vendée Globe qualification miles, Nick and I qualified for the Transat Jacque Vabres later in the year and we learned a lot about how the other one reacts and performs in stressful and negative situations. All this is good. We did achieve some of our pre-race objectives and we did them well. The rest of it I will have to absorb over time. Our race result forever in history does not tell our story. This race will always sting me I believe it will make me better. I am sorry you did not get to see Medallia smashing it in post refit form. I will continue to work and drive and learn from my mistakes and that day will come.

What I do know is we have made a huge step forward in performance, those first 90 minutes of the race said it all. Now I need to invest the same time in my training as we have in the boat. All the elements are there, we just need to activate them.

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