There Will Be Chaos!

It started out as one of the Top Ten nights of the year. Maybe Top Five.  Then mother nature threw a hand grenade into the mix.   And chaos ensued.   In the end, a third of the fleet dissappeared and Ursa Minor scored a big Fleet win nipping Jolly Mon and Salud on corrected time as the rain poured down and the wind pipped up.

A beautiful July summer's eve started things with a solid westerly of 8 knots and the fleet of 36 was off to Black Ledge by New London Light.  A favorable tide made the 2 mile upwind leg a good one and within 30 minutes, Salud had popped her chute and headed back.  Many of the fleet ducked in behind Horseshoe Reef to avoid the near full moon current downwind, and soon the horizon was filled with Mudhead spinnakers spread across the course.   The sky overhead was clear, but the clouds to the north soon blocked the sun, casting magnificent rays to the water.  But, with the beauty came the blackness.

On the Race Committee we decided to shift the 2nd windward leg to the closer Vixen Ledge, with the expectation the breeze would go northerly.  A shorter leg would get everyone in sooner.  But, just as the first boats saw the C flag, the northly was there, dead north and the black clouds were overhead.   And that horizon shot of colorful spinnakers suddenly included a few bolts of lightening.  So, the Eddie Maxwell giddiapped to Vixen to shorten the race.  As the squall slammed in we saw a gust of 25 and more than a few spinnakkers flying wildly as everyone tried to keep it together.  And then it started to rain.

"I don't think the heavy stuff will be here for awhile"   Not!   Why do we leave foul weather gear in the car?

So, the race was shortened at Vixen.  Salud, Jolly Mon and Ursa Minor were the first to get there and the remaining fleet followed soon after.   Daniel Andrews in Breaking Wind, single handing, bravely standing in wet t-shirt, the last of the survivors. And we got one in the books.  Oh, and those summer penalties kick in now, so read em and weep.