Offhand I'd say that the fleet for the fall Off Soundings regatta was about 100 boats in twelve classes. Not huge by the standards of the Brand Name events, but impressive when you're in the middle of it all pre-start.
Gorgeous committee boats.
The friday race (New London to Greenport via Valiant Rock) is always a good long day with some very interesting tide-management decisions. Our decisions were good, but not great. A 3+knot (no joke) tide was in full effect the second we poked our nose out beyond the island, causing us to duck Race Rock, and then a number of headboats and then not quite lay the bell at gull island. We, the fleet, all had to tack and sail directly into that current, making big tracks through the water but just creeping over ground. The following 15 miles didn't really matter. The day was won or lost in that tide.
And then, we DRINK! 700 sailors descend upon a tiny patch of grass, surrounding a tent of boozebuckets. For the past few years I and my fellow crew have had the duty and delight of "bartending" these festivities. The stampede for the booze when the flags go up can be intimidating to the uninitiated, but man it's just good wholesome enthusiasm.
Then the red-pants brigade read the results...
And we all hit the water and do it again the next day.
The next day is just a bouy-course within Gardiner's Bay, but always entertaining. Halfway through the second upwind leg the wind clocked 30 degrees and intensified to 25 knots or so, bringing a good stinging rain as well. A quick reef, a slow jib change, and on we go, expecting the RC to shorten the course at the top mark.
But they're not on station to do so. They're on station to finish the race for the Nonsuch class, who sailed a shorter course. The rest of us must decide whether to retire or continue on for two more legs. Down we go.
Reefed main and #3 jib were sufficient to keep the knotmeter needle bouncing off the 10 with each wave. We were happy to be well set-up for the leg. Watching other boats try to tuck a reef or change headsails on the run was just painful.
Not nearly so painful as the Wyliecat 30 that marched past us with every inch of canvas flying, and then stuffed their bow in a wave and took a crash-gybe knockdown that can only be described as the monohull version of a "pitchpole". As we evaded the downed boat I got a great look at a spotlessly-clean bottom. The boat righted itself as we passed their transom, and we all exhaled to count all crew aboard and none in the water. That could've been a lot uglier.
The wind built into the 30s on the last upwind leg, but the boat was loving it thanks to the second reef we took while rounding the leeward mark.
We passed two lower-rated boats in our class on that leg. Those corklike lightweight boats that just bob up and over the waves without a care are doing it all wrong. Water is speed! You need a foot of water in the bilge to give you the mass/intertia to punch through those waves so that you can take more water with the spray of each wave that reaches the cockpit because WATER IS SPEED!!!! :)
A much smaller party the second night. This is traditionally the case, as some boats opt to return home after finishing, but this time I think breakdowns and old-fashioned exhaustion contributed as well. Again with the booze, again with the redpants. This time with silver.
Awful Soundings, I can't wait for the spring.