Step four - mark it up, reduce fiddling
Don't guess. Get your settings right and mark the strings. Dave Best says that the most important extra on a Squib is a black felt pen. He says:
“To be near the front, you need speed off the line. Some crews tighten everything up in their excitement. This can stop the boat. The way to avoid this is to maintain trust in your settings. If you think you are going slow, don't start doing silly things with the settings. Trust the black marks and concentrate on sailing. Preparation here really matters and before the championship, you must have worked out your fast settings back at the club. Put marks on your jib sheets, main sheet and jib halyard. At the start, go to your settings and leave it at that.”
Remember that the road to hell is not only paved with good intentions; it is also paved with fiddling.
My pal, Philip, brought along a hand held GPS to the 2006 Nationals. We went out for a couple of afternoons at Fishbourne and - in a sort of scientific one-variable-at-a-time manner - pulled each string in turn while Philip measured the speed on the GPS. For each string, we marked it where we achieved the best speed. (Wish we could use one while racing!)
Step five - pointing
For years I have been cursed with an inability to point. It is hell - far worse than other curses such as BO, unattractiveness to women or ingrowing toenails. Philip has exorcised this curse. During the race, we monitor the Tacktic and the other boats. If we feel a bit low (given that it is not just the morning after the night before), Philip proceeds to 'do the magic,' as we call it.
The ‘magic’ is primarily about jib halyard tension and jib cunningham. The key aspect of the rigging, no matter how you set things up, is aft mast rake and having the forestay long enough so that it allows the jib to take up a wide curve. Unlike dinghies, the Squib needs the jib to fall away to leeward. Take a look at the photos on the site, particularly this one of Dave Best at the 2004 Inlands. Look at the jib luff curve here.
So the ‘magic’ primarily involves playing with the jib tension and the jib cunningham - loosening, tightening. The jib halyard tension needs to be tighter in stronger winds and looser in lighter winds, the theory being that the strong wind naturally blows the luff into a curve. Dave White says that there is a more scientific approach. Loosen the tension until you get ‘scallops’ between the bits that fix the jib to the forestay. Now tighten it until they just disappear. In practice, a bit of fiddling is called for. (I know it is giving into temptation but as Oscar Wilde said, "I can resist anything but temptation.")
Usually this does the trick because these are the most important controls on a Squib. If that does not work, Philip has a go at me about the track and mainsheet tension (higher and tighter than you might think) and finally he plays with the jibsheet tension. Invariably, the 'magic' works and up we go.
(In fact, it seems to us best to leave the barbers in tight. Adjust the jib for the wind strength by using the jib sheets only. Again, I am sure the top boats adjust both but it seems preferable to us to reduce complexity.)
Step six - drills
Work out some tacking and gybing drills.
You can easily stop a Squib by trying to tack too fast. Our drill calls for a slowish entry to the tack, running the boat dead into the eye of the wind until she slows and then rudder over for the last bit to get onto the next tack. We both stand up after the boom has crossed and the helm pulls the track all the way up for a moment to 'kick' her off. (There is a good demo of this in the dvd from Rooster Sailing in the ‘Boat Whisperer’ series. The DVD is really about Lasers but it seems to apply to real boats as well.)
There is an easy way to gybe that Jenny Riley told us about. It is a 'coarse sailing wheeze' rather than real fast stuff, but it works. Cleat both sheet and guy, drop the pole, set the jib on the new side so that the clew is against the mast, gybe the main and then release sheet and guy so that the helm can control them, steering with the knees. The helm moves the kite around while the crew sets up pole, the helm giving some slack so the pole goes out and then finally the crew takes back sheet and guy - while the helm lights a small cigar.
The real important asset for the helm when gybing (and indeed just about anything to do with the spinnaker) is a firmly shut mouth. The helm has a good vantage point if anything is going wrong but should limit him or herself to a single calm phrase, such as 'guy in jaws,' if something has been forgotten. As a helm, NEVER, EVER COMPLAIN about the speed of a gybe or anything else connected with that creature of original sin, the spinnaker. Be really grateful that the gybe has happened and that you are round. If things go wrong, answer questions when asked - and only if asked - and then only because of your better viewpoint, not superior intelligence. After all, most Squib helms could no more gybe a spinnaker than trapeze an 18' Skiff.
Reach-to-reach gybing is currently beyond us. So our other 'coarse sailing wheeze' is to go high on the first reach, turn towards the mark late and then gybe run-to-run, hardening up as we round the mark. If nothing else, it gives you a fine view of the rafts at the wing mark and a smug feeling when other boats try to round with the sails all over the place.
For the same sort of reason it pays to drop the kite a bit early. You have time to sort out what to do next as well as gain more manoeuvrability. This often pays when coming up to the mark with a gaggle in front of you. If you slow down and wait, you can often slip inside the raft and around the mark while they are shouting eccentric interpretations of the rules at each other.
Step seven – blowing old boots
I am indebted to Peter Horton, Confusion 94, for the following advice. At Cowes, sailing with Matthew, the wind was very strong and gusty most of the time. The waves were really lumpy and on the first day, we simply could not get Billy Ruff’n under control. We ended up about 26th out of the 38 boats and were somewhat disappointed. The next day, following a chat with Peter, we really pulled hard on the mainsheet tension to flatten the sail. (Peter said ‘block to block’ but that seemed a little extreme to us.)
The main objective is to ensure that the mainsheet take-off on the track does not go below the centre line. If the boom drops below centre, then you can forget about pointing. (You do, of course, dump the track in a violent gust.) How do you survive with the main pulled in? Well, you use those two controls that are totally redundant at any other time – the cunningham and the backstay. Pull the backstay on hard and the leach opens at the top of the mainsail. Pull the cunningham on hard and the centre of curvature of the mainsail moves forward. Both reduce heeling so that you can keep that boom on the centreline. (For heaven’s sakes, do not use these controls unless it is really blowing.)
Does it work? Well, we achieved a 14th the next day!
Step eight – do your best to understand the tidal flows
Every venue says that tides really do not matter there. NEVER, EVER BELIEVE THIS.
A Squib at full chat on a beat in a force 2-3 will be doing about 4 knots. If the tide is against you at even half a knot, you have lost 12% of your speed! Get the tide right and you can go 12% faster than the boat that gets it wrong - and you can fiddle forever with your boat and never get near a 12% improvement.
I put tides before windshifts because they are much more amenable to the step by step approach. They are (sort of) predictable and thus capable of planning. The Solent, as Philip says, must be the most studied tidal area in the world. Other areas are less so. However, tides do follow logic and there are several good books on this logic. Getting the charts early gives you the opportunity to study what might happen. Getting out on the water early gives you the chance to see whether it is happening. Drawing some lines on your chart helps to plan what might happen (and buy several copies of the chart.)
Obviously, the tide runs faster in deeper water. Obviously, where there is a point or projection from the shore, the tide will run faster at the point and there will be some sort of back eddy behind it. Obviously, the tide turns earlier inshore than offshore – and so on. To be honest, it is less difficult to work it out what is happening than it is to believe (and act upon) your results. We try to tell ourselves that it is like traffic. It is shorter to drive across London by going through the middle. It is (usually) quicker to take the longer route around the outskirts. (The same goes for most big cities.)
A tide plan for every race is vital. (Jenny Riley has a secret method which she shared with us. We would share it with you in turn but we'd have to shoot you afterwards. Sorry.) Oh, and in light airs, stay uptide. This needs reinforcing. STAY UP TIDE ... STAY UP TIDE ... STAY UP TIDE.
Step nine – try to do something about wind shifts
The only truth about wind shifts is to quote the theatre owner in the film Shakespeare in Love - "It's a mystery." Some people just see them. Mid-fleeters do not. We are working out our own rough and ready view.
- Look at the boats ahead - the one advantage we have that Chris Hogan does not! You can often see them all pointing higher or lower or even tacking. It tells you what to get ready for. Don’t tack when they do. Wait and be prepared to tack where they did.
- Sail the first beat before the start. Sometimes this shows you a pattern of shifts. You may not follow them but at least they explain what is happening to your pointing.
- Don't tack on every shift. Chris Hogan says you lose a boat's length every time you tack. Well, may be he does. You and I can easily lose three.
- Ration your tacks. If you tack more than about six times on a beat (as a mid-fleeter in the Nationals), you will be down the tubes. If you allow yourself only six tacks to a beat, at least you will be prevented from that frenzied tacking just after the start or when rounding the windward mark.
- If the run becomes a reach, the wind has shifted. Obvious, I know, but in the heat of the moment, it can be difficult to realise the implications.
- Study the forecast for the day. Sometimes they indicate an expected windshift. On the beat, go the way that such a shift will benefit you if it happens.
- Near land, remember that the wind veers as it leaves the shore. (Well actually it doesn't. It has backed over the land and now is returning to normal but ... )
- Don't confuse the wind and tide. Often it is the tide than makes it seem that the wind has died or shifted.

Rutland racing
The best advice is to go to the Inlands at Rutland. The great thing about the Inlands is that you can use the event to practice. Why is that? Well, take a look at the entry list! One glance tells you that you have absolutely no chance whatsoever! Oddly enough, this is particularly comforting. It means that you can try all sorts of things, without thinking you may be damaging your (non-existent) chances.
There is no tide (although I could swear there was at times!) and the wind shifts all over the place. So the other good thing about Rutland, is that you will find that the top boats do not always get it right. Often – and of course for distressingly short periods – you will find yourself up with the leaders. You found the wind and they did not. This is doubly good. Firstly, for once you can discuss what you did right rather than what you did wrong. Secondly, it reminds you that to err is human and that only the Hogans are divine - and that we mid-fleeters are not alone in our sins.
Step ten – we have to face it: learn to start
The keys are speed and clear air at the gun and, in my view (again as a dedicated mid-fleeter), these are much more important than where you start. Christian Brewer writes:
“Speed off the line is vitally important as the foils will be providing the lift necessary to give you height over the boats to leeward. It is not so vital to be right on the line as long as you are travelling at full pace in clear air.”
The worst start we had at Royal Vic was when we started at the right end. (One of what Their Excellencies call a 'senior moment', I guess.) We came in late at the committee boat end just right - to see Gerard and Salty do the same and take the only hole. Starting at the ‘right’ end is usually a mistake for mid-fleeters. It is where everyone else is.
For the sake of (Lord Ted) Reilly, forget all the stuff about holding position on the line and seeking to achieve a gap to windward, into which you are supposed to reach just before the gun. The fact is that you and I do not know when to bear away for speed, are terrified of a black flag and anyway the hole we may have created will be filled by several other Squibs going twice as fast at the gun. All this sort of start achieves in mid fleet, is a stationary Squib, bobbing up and down on the waves, while the fleet disappears over the horizon.
There are two ways for mid-fleeters to achieve speed and clear air at the start.
One method is to go to the ‘wrong’ end (if you have the skills to work out which end it is) and do a good start there. Steve Warren-Smith had a second place in one Nationals race (crewed by his 10 year old son) by starting right at the pin end when everyone else was trying for the committee boat. (Mind you, he is a local and some said that only he knew that the pin end was right.)
Chris Goodfellow (Trophoblast 761) says:
“At first, I would suggest (starting) where everyone else is not. This is often the pin end. Thus you need to know how long it takes to sail down the length of the line, so as not to arrive early. Set off on time and it will probably be a little slower because of other boats. You may also find a nice gap and wish to slow down to stay in it. With 30 seconds to go or a minute if there is space, reach away down and below the line to gain speed before coming up hard on to the wind for the gun. Then, if in close company, point up high to lee bow the boat above you. After the lee bowed boat has fallen well back, or tacked off, you can foot away with maximum speed. If you have plenty of space, just speed off and keep going until you are well clear of the start.”
The other way, which we had a lot of fun with at the Inlands, is to go off on your own, way beyond the pin end, and then reach back on port. It is a bit unnerving as the fleet bears down on you, all on starboard, but the trick is to do one of three things:
- If you have timed it right (IF!), and if no one comes really near the pin end, you can start on port and cross the fleet (if you are very lucky) or tack onto starboard in your own time.
- If not, then you continue to reach along behind the starboard boats – whose sails are now giving you a nice lift – and look for a hole. Tack into that hole and off you go.
- If the worst comes to the worst, you reach along for a bit longer, hardening up as the fleet passes over you and then cross behind (all but the laggards) on a port tack start. This may sound dreadful but remember, you will have clear air and you will cross the line at speed.
All three happened to us at the Inlands, and we never had a bad start – but watch out for tides. As Chris Goodfellow also writes:
“If the tide is from either side, you can wait at the up tide end - by the committee boat or pin. The water the fleet will be sailing in may be disappearing down tide rapidly. If so you can pop out onto the line after the start into clear water, although at the pin end on port tack you must be ready to tack quickly onto starboard well clear of the starboard tackers.”
See? There are boats behind us!
Not familiar
Anyway, there you have it. This is a mid fleet view. The rockstars are doing something else entirely. My view of the champions is similar to the remark the great Bobby Jones made about Jack Nicklaus, “He plays a game with which I am not familiar.” (And to be honest, I am not averse to hitting 3 seven irons on an impossibly tight par four. At least, I am on the green in three!) I know that the front of the fleet is constantly doing all sorts of things to the settings, but you and I are like the late President Ford. If he could not walk and chew gum at the same time, you and I cannot race and fiddle at the same time.
Getting better?
Are we getting better? Well, one definition of the Mid Fleet Club member is someone who, on finishing, immediately looks back and starts counting. We ran (jointly) out of fingers several times and I think that we made a tiny bit of a breakthrough in 2006. We were sailing along with a whole new group of people for some of the time. (It's always good to make new friends.) Indeed, Cowes Week results were sometimes even respectable.
See you in the mid fleet.
Didn’t we have a spinnaker up there?
I don’t know. I didn’t look.