Rob Koci's Gold Cup Report
Gold Cut #1
The TSCC Icebreaker
The first Gold Cup of the year is much anticipated, but not for the reasons most would expect. When I asked around the Rats who were coming, the reaction was mostly upturned and/or wrinkled noses. I heard variations on, "Too damn cold, "it's always a friggin' nightmare," and " I don't want to die of hypothermia in Humber Bay."
Yes, the TS&CC Icebreaker does have a reputation, and that may be why the numbers of competitors this year was smaller, about 20 for the full rigs and 25 or so for the Radials.
Did it live up to its reputation in '08? Afraid so. The first day started light, and it looked like we were going to have enough breeze to sail, but not enough to freeze. And it looked like it was going to be light enough for me in the full rigs. The fulls also had some great competition in the Masters category. Andy Roy, Rob Muru, Terry Neilson, Morten Fogh. In the kids department, there was Rob Davis, Matt Ryder, Greg Douglas and Martin Robataille, a lanky kid from Montreal. Rob, Greg and Matt are three I like to measure myself against, even if I can't (yet) beat them. Greg is a giant downwind, while Rob, I think, is the better all round sailor and Matt is wonderful and smart in light air. When he gains weight, he will be very tough to beat in the fulls.
So into the fulls fleet I went.
Rob and Greg always seem to be after one another. I remember last year, at the last Gold Cup in Belleville, the two of them were neck and neck for the overall Gold Cup series win on the final downwind of the final race in light air. It was so light, the quickest way down the course was to gybe as often as possible (rules notwithstanding). They had battled themselves into the middle of the fleet by the last leg, and I had a front row seat watching the two of them have by far the most exciting gybing duel I have ever witnessed. They drove down the course like two manic butterflies, passing and repassing each other with each gybe. This year at this Icebreaker, it was Andy Roy's job to keep the kids honest. Terry Neilson also represented the old guys very well on the first day.
To my 158-lb horror, the wind came up and by the time the first race was starting, was blowing out of the south enough for me to be whining like a girl about my choice of rig. I got a good start, however, and was in the mix (5 or 6) up the windward leg. The downwind stretched the fleet a bit and I crossed the line 7, but with three OCS's, ended up 4th.
The second race I had a chance to test something I had learned last year. When I was at CORK 07 in the Radials, I saw how the Radial fleet always gave Paige Railey space at the line. It was like there was a pecking order in the fleet, and you didn't mess with Paige on a pin-favored start. You just gave it to her.
For me it was Andy Roy. He is a nice guy, but a fierce competitor, and the acknowledged star of the Ontario Masters fleet, with a 4th at the World Masters in Aussie this year. He was lined up for a pin start with tons of room between him and the pin with 30 seconds to go. It was clearly pin favored, but no one was challenging him for the spot. I couldn't see Greg or Rob, whom I thought would be there, and I was approaching on port as late as possible, as I usually do on a pin-favored line. My first instinct was to turn above Andy and give him the pin because he is Andy Roy and I am only Rob Koci. But that would have been the same old habit, so I cut under him, pushed him up a bit to let him know I was there, and tried not to shit my pants. I think I heard a curse come from his boat, which made me want to apologize to him. It's amazing how you mind wants you to get back to the mid fleet thinking that it thinks you deserve.
With 10 seconds to go, Andy surged forward, and I became instantly afraid he would roll me (highly likely anyway, because he is a powerhouse upwind in a breeze, but I wanted it to happen half way up the windward leg, not right at the start). Even though I had TONS of room to bear off and go on the gun, I panicked, and my pecking-order brain over took my competitive instinct, and I loaded up about a second too soon, and crossed the line a boat length up from the pin and a second too early. In the mean time, Andy backed off just enough, reloaded, and took off. I didn't turn back.
In that wind, and with the competition, my 4th for that race could have come in handy.
So, lesson learned again. Even when you know you have to break the pecking-order barrier, your brain will fight against it and make you do stupid things.
I am not sure, but I think I saw a similar brain disorder happen with Rob Murk in the last race of the first day. He was struggling in the first two races, but was looking at a solid third or fourth in the last. I was ahead of him on the last downwind and dumped. I popped up behind him for the second reach of the trapezoid to the last mark. He had about 10 boat lengths on me as we rounded the mark for the short upwind stretch home, which is to say he had his third or fourth (I can't remember) in the bag. We held on port for 50 yards, me following him, and then he tack...and dumped...in the very average breeze. It looked an awful lot like he was already counting his finish and feeling good, and took his eye off the ball. I felt bad for him, dodged his sail floating in the water in front of me, and took his place to the finish. I know how that one feels, but that's one of the reasons we have to spend as much time in the boat as we can afford. We need those things to happen so they don't happen to us again.
But Rob was not alone in the brain fade department. Terry Neilson was heard across the bay yelling, "I hate this sport!" in the only race of the second day when, in a light southerly, near the top mark of the first beat, he inextricably dumped, righted and dumped again. I think I also heard him offer his boat to anyone that was willing to buy it for $50.
Morten Fogh, in the first race of the first day, was leading nicely and looked very strong when he dumped upwind just short of the mark, and slipped back to the teens (he scrambled back up and ended up third overall in the regatta. Greg dumped on the first day and by the third race was clearly the most miserable sailor on the planet. His OCS in the first race and his shivering misery made it a very bad day for him, which left Rob and Andy at the top of the board after the first day.
The second day looked a lot like it was going to be a carbon copy of the first. We were held on shore till about noon, waiting for breeze to fill in. It finally did, hard, with rain. The committee wisely decided to run sausages to make setting marks quicker so they could get two races in. The first race got off without problems, and I scored another fourth, in part because I could keep up with the fatties upwind in the heavier air.
In the morning, I had talked to Andy about upwind work heavy air. In particular, I was asking him about how he worked his rudder through the waves. I always had the impression that you needed to avoid too much rudder action, but he described his tiller movements as "sawing," which implied tons of aggressive action. He seemed to be saying that it was more important to steer through the waves properly that it was to worry about stopping the boat with your tiller movements.
So I tried it. I looked further ahead in the wave field, and did my best to stick the boat to the water, avoid the big waves and keep the boat moving. Not only was I faster, I found the boat easier to jerk around with my body, which reduced the tiller movements a bit. Even with my weight disadvantage, I was strong and didn't worry about losing the fatties upwind.
The committee started a second race. The pin was heavily favored, but I was convinced that it was more important to be able to tack immediately after the gun and get the shift back to the right than win the pin. I started second or third from the boat somewhere in the middle of the line, and tacked to port just before the gun. Greg (who I think was closest to the boat) and I shot out to the right before anyone, and the wind obligingly shifted right. He was ahead and to leeward of me. He tacked, I tacked at the same time, and we both crossed the fleet by 100 yards. The wind continued to shift, and Greg over stood while I nailed the mark like I meant it. Sweet, sweet, sweet. Greg got past me around the mark and the offset, and off we went to the leeward mark. The wind shifted more to the right and by the time we were upwind again, it was a parade. The second downwind was almost a close reach, with the waves pushing us directly from behind. Matt Ryder and Rob Davis came up from third and fourth like they were shot out of a cannon, but I held my second pla...until, about 50 yards from the finish, the committee abandoned the race!!!!
Guys, I can't tell you how that cut. A second, along with the drop was going to put me in solid third overall. But I have to admit, the course was horribly skewed, and the Radials were still trying to get a start off.
So we tried again, with the wind coming off the north shore now, and so weird and hard and fluky that I thought my rudder was lifting, or my centerboard broke. I think it was down-drafting. Whatever it was doing, we got a start off, and headed for the windward mark, that was drifting as quickly toward us as we were sailing toward it. By the time Greg and Rob were near it, the offset was far upwind of the windward mark, and the committee had no choice but to abandon that one too. And then it was 4:00pm, and we were cold, and tired, and I was not going to get my drop, and it was time to head home.
Yes, the icebreaker has a well earned reputation. Yes, it was friggin' cold. But I came away with three important lessons; I have to train my brain to accept that I will be mixing it up with the best, I have to use my rudder more in a breeze upwind and I have to not OCS on the first day. That, my friend, is worth not only the price of admission, but all the cold and wet you can throw at me.
Rob Koci, May 19, 2008