JOG St. Vaast Race

<div style="float: right; border: double black 3px">
<div style="margin: 10px">
<a href="../offshore/main.php?page=osbookings&event=">Booking info</a>
</div>
</div>
<div> 

<h1>JOG St. Vaast Race</h1>

<h2>28th April - 1st May 2006</h2>

<p>Cross channel race, to St. Vaast in Normandy.</p>

<img src="vaast1.jpg" style="margin: 10px" width="320" height="240" alt="St Vaast water front" />
<img src="vaast2.jpg" style="margin: 10px" width="320" height="240" alt="St Vaast sea view" />

<p>St. Vaast is a picturesque port on the Cherbourg peninsula, 
with harbour front restaurants and remnants of old fortifications.  
The harbour is enclosed by lock gates which are closed when the tide is too low.  
This provides an extra incentive to do well in the race,
as one boat found out to their cost in 2004, spending several hours at anchor waiting for the gates
to re-open.</p>

<!--<p>LCSC will be organising at least one official club boat for this race.
There will be an offshore race training weekend before the race and
it is hoped that as many people as possible do both events, so as to be prepared for the
race itself.  Preference will be given to those doing both and a discount may be available.</p>-->

<h3>St Vaast JOG Race Report – 28/29th April 2006</h3>

<p>We had chartered Ayaya, a J/120 owned by a club member, for the 2006 JOG race 
from Cowes to St Vaast.  We set off on the Friday evening to Cowes for 
the 19.30 start.   After a delicious plate of pasta, prepared by Hilary, we patrolled 
the start line, watching the earlier starts set off.   The forecasts suggested a 
pleasant, light northerly wind to push us over the Channel.   </p>

<p>Peter, as ever manoeuvred us to a brilliant start, and we were one of the lead boats 
as we beat up towards the forts.   The wind shifted and we tacked; the wind direction 
did not seem to be following the forecast.  We were lying second just passing the 
forts, when disaster struck: the loop at the head of the Number 1 tore. Unfortunately 
the sail came down but the halyard did not.   Hilary quickly went up the mast and 
sent the halyard back down.   The only other sail we had was a furling number 3, 
which we hoisted and prayed for more wind.   Despite having spent several minutes 
avoiding tankers and other boats while Hilary was up the mast, we were still not last 
as we set off again towards Bembridge Ledge.   Apparently it was a lovely sunset 
from the top of the mast, although the tankers were a little too close for comfort.</p>

<p>Once past Bembridge we split into our watches and the first watch was excruciating.  
The wind died and was predominantly from a Southerly direction.    It seemed to 
take an age to move towards St Katherine's point, not helped by our handkerchief of 
a Genoa.   In the 3 hour watch we had covered about 5 nm.   We went to sleep 
wondering if we would make it across by Monday...  </p>

<p>The change in watch bought a change in wind, in both strength and direction.   It 
shifted around just enough to make the asymmetric spinnaker a possibility.  With 
the No. 3 as the alternative, it was a pretty easy call.   Up went the spinnaker and, 
with the winds picking up to 10-12 knots, Ayaya set off to hunt down the rest of the 
fleet.   One of the benefits of night sailing is that it is not always obvious to the rest 
of the fleet that you are catching up, sailing past and why.  With the majority of the 
fleet still under white sails, we sailed past most of them during the next two 
watches.  It was a great feeling watching our competition's stern lights being 
replaced by the green and red on the bow.</p>

<p>As dawn approached we were back in the front part of the fleet.   The light winds had 
allowed us to sail a very close reach despite using the spinnaker all night, so we had 
gained speed without losing much on course.   The French coast line was in view 
and the Barfleur lighthouse was sighted around 5am.   Visions of croissants and 
French coffee for breakfast did not last long, as the wind died once more.   </p>

<p>The hours passed as we edged ever closer to the finishing line.  We were 
tantalisingly close, but aware that the tide, which was doing most of the work getting 
us to our destination, was going to change and start taking us away.  The radio 
started to echo with boats behind us retiring.   The St Vaast lock closed at 3pm, and 
some boats had decided that getting in was more important than finishing the race.  
We decided that what ever else happened we were not giving in; if the wind did not 
pick up we could always head to Cherbourg if we could not get into St Vaast.  </p> 

<p>The wind then decided to be kind and picked up enough to take us across the 
finishing line, just after 2pm.  We furled the No. 3 and pulled down the main 
very quickly, and motored into St Vaast before the lock closed.</p>

<p>Once in we headed off to find some suitable refreshments. Waiting to walk across the 
lock, we watched an inflatable squeeze in with inches to spare as the gates 
were closing.   Quick round of applause followed the daring act, although the French 
seemed unimpressed by the risk-taking English in the boat below.   </p>

<p>After a quick beer and glass of wine we headed back to the boat to freshen up and 
came across the bizarre scene of an Englishman lying beside his bike at the bottom 
of the ramp to the pontoon.   Suddenly the siren and light of the fast approaching 
ambulance came into view and several French ambulance men and doctors leapt into 
action.   The dazed and slightly tipsy patient was suddenly surrounded by several 
medics; he had apparently fallen off his bike while cycling down the ramp onto the 
pontoon.  Not something that should be recommended when sober let alone after a 
drink or two.   Meanwhile in the commotion the delivery men from Ms Gosselin 
continued to deliver the numerous boxes of food and wine to the boat of the patient, 
tip-toeing past him and the medics.    All ended well: the medics had fun covering 
the patient in bandages, no doubt dining out on another "mad Englishman story" 
for the rest of the night, and the patient was helped on to his boat.  This was now 
lying very low in the water as a result of the large selection of Ms Gosselin's produce 
which had been stowed on board, and the patient was able to continue to sample French fare 
without getting back on his bike.   </p>

<p>With so few of the fleet having made it into St Vaast, and some of the JOG 
committee in Cherbourg, the drinks party was put back till Sunday morning.   An 
impromptu prize-giving did take place on the Saturday evening and we were pleased 
to have come 2nd, only 10 minutes behind the leader.   With the loss of our Number 
1 so early in the race, this was a great result and we were all very happy.   We 
enjoyed a great dinner, while watching the late arrivals pour into the marina as the 
lock opened once more at 9pm.</p>

<p>On Sunday we headed off in the morning to stock up on food and wine, for lunch and 
to take home, and then attended the delayed drinks party.  Ayaya left to cross the Channel 
at 2pm.   The wind decided to be kind and we had a great breeze to blow us home. The 
spinnaker went up to give us novice helms an opportunity to helm with the 
asymmetric.  Having checked the tides and taking into account the speed we were 
making, we came in through the Needles Channel, so completing a trip round the 
island, to round off a great weekend.  We were back in Hamble by 1 o'clock, just in 
time for a quick beer before bed.</p>

<p>Congratulations to the crew for a great result and thank you for making it a fun 
weekend.   Peter Hopps (skipper), Hilary Cook, John Kewley, Louise Kewley, Bill 
Sherlock, Ben Carratu, Suzy Carratu and Trudy Netherwood.</p>

<h3>Robina Barker Bennett</h3>

<p class=cpr>Copyright &copy; London Corinthian Sailing Club, 2006</p>