Rum_Pirate
Well-Known Member
The racing sloops of Anguilla carry only what they need to win: ballast, fresh water, buckets, bailer and a crew of hard men.
Racing sloops start from the beach where they are secured by a warp to the ashore and a line to an anchor astern. At the gun, bowlines are slipped and the crew hauls the boat around. All the boats must turn away from the beach in the same direction.
Boats are built of plywood and epoxy. Their timbers are tortured into the most beautiful shape, then filled and fared to perfection.
The hull is empty but for bags of sand and three lead pigs.
She is driven by a huge, un-reefable mainsail and a tiny jib, plus the collective will of 15 men.
At the signal all 14 boats turn away from the shore, peeling off one by one like fighter planes. To begin with things were quite relaxed with a run downwind between the anchored yachts.
The rules of building, like the race itself, are flexible.
There are different clases. Class ‘A’ sloop and may carry any size of mainsail on any length of mast or boom.
But restrictions apply to the length of hull; they must not exceed 28ft LOA or carry external ballast.
They may, however, be of any depth or width of beam.
You round the first mark and harden up onto the wind; time now to experience the raw, gut-wrenching beauty of racing aboard these wonderful boats.
Tacking called for coordination without hesitation.
On command the tiller went down and the boat luffed.
Together the crew heaved themselves across the boat with only seconds to man the rail before she flipped and went down.
As she paid-off, the lead pigs were dragged across and lifted into place behind the bilge stringer. Fingers and toes bare the brunt of any mistakes.
With no port and starboard rule the sloops are not for the faint hearted.
As our boom sliced the air just inches from another’s forestay, our captain shouted, “Show no fear men. Show no fear.”
Going to windward, a team of three runs the boat.
One man called the wind shifts, never faltering and always right.
Amidships the tactician watched the opposition and when necessary, drives the crew, often mercilessly.
On his command, the eight men on the rail hiked out until their heads skimmed the water. They do this without hesitation, only staying in the boat by jamming their bare feet under a thin canvas strap held in place by a dubious knot.
Round the second mark the leading boat begins to leaving a silver cloud in its wake; a sign they were dumping ballast sand.
To everyone’s delight, two crewmen followed.
The rules allow for the dumping of crew, but once they are off they cannot rejoin the boat. It sounds dangerous, and probably is, but the men were soon picked up by one of the many chase boats that, packed with supporters, party along behind the sloops, cheering their favorites and throwing insults at the opposition.
The first boat to reach the windward mark has the right to round the mark on either side, which meant all the other boats have to do the same. All except the last boat – they’re allowed to round it as they see fit!
In strong winds, the sloops are often driven under.
Sloops do not finish a race by crossing a line—that would be too easy.
Instead, a mark holding a flag is placed off the beach.
To win, a boat must get close enough to the mark for a crewman to touch the flag.
Should he miss, there is pandemonium, as the boat tacks away for another run, usually less than a boat length ahead of the rest of the fleet.
Some of the rules governing sloop racing have been changed recently.
Racing sloops start from the beach where they are secured by a warp to the ashore and a line to an anchor astern. At the gun, bowlines are slipped and the crew hauls the boat around. All the boats must turn away from the beach in the same direction.
Boats are built of plywood and epoxy. Their timbers are tortured into the most beautiful shape, then filled and fared to perfection.
The hull is empty but for bags of sand and three lead pigs.
She is driven by a huge, un-reefable mainsail and a tiny jib, plus the collective will of 15 men.
At the signal all 14 boats turn away from the shore, peeling off one by one like fighter planes. To begin with things were quite relaxed with a run downwind between the anchored yachts.
The rules of building, like the race itself, are flexible.
There are different clases. Class ‘A’ sloop and may carry any size of mainsail on any length of mast or boom.
But restrictions apply to the length of hull; they must not exceed 28ft LOA or carry external ballast.
They may, however, be of any depth or width of beam.
You round the first mark and harden up onto the wind; time now to experience the raw, gut-wrenching beauty of racing aboard these wonderful boats.
Tacking called for coordination without hesitation.
On command the tiller went down and the boat luffed.
Together the crew heaved themselves across the boat with only seconds to man the rail before she flipped and went down.
As she paid-off, the lead pigs were dragged across and lifted into place behind the bilge stringer. Fingers and toes bare the brunt of any mistakes.
With no port and starboard rule the sloops are not for the faint hearted.
As our boom sliced the air just inches from another’s forestay, our captain shouted, “Show no fear men. Show no fear.”
Going to windward, a team of three runs the boat.
One man called the wind shifts, never faltering and always right.
Amidships the tactician watched the opposition and when necessary, drives the crew, often mercilessly.
On his command, the eight men on the rail hiked out until their heads skimmed the water. They do this without hesitation, only staying in the boat by jamming their bare feet under a thin canvas strap held in place by a dubious knot.
Round the second mark the leading boat begins to leaving a silver cloud in its wake; a sign they were dumping ballast sand.
To everyone’s delight, two crewmen followed.
The rules allow for the dumping of crew, but once they are off they cannot rejoin the boat. It sounds dangerous, and probably is, but the men were soon picked up by one of the many chase boats that, packed with supporters, party along behind the sloops, cheering their favorites and throwing insults at the opposition.
The first boat to reach the windward mark has the right to round the mark on either side, which meant all the other boats have to do the same. All except the last boat – they’re allowed to round it as they see fit!
In strong winds, the sloops are often driven under.
Sloops do not finish a race by crossing a line—that would be too easy.
Instead, a mark holding a flag is placed off the beach.
To win, a boat must get close enough to the mark for a crewman to touch the flag.
Should he miss, there is pandemonium, as the boat tacks away for another run, usually less than a boat length ahead of the rest of the fleet.
Some of the rules governing sloop racing have been changed recently.
