This is Clay's interesting story of a 200 mile solo MinitranAt Race in
France.
Way to go Clay! I'm glad he made it through the hen and chickens
without
wrecking the boat.

http://www.teamacadia.org/clayslog2.htm

Acadia's Log

05/28/06, Douarnenez, France

Well, the first race is over...great to finally have brushed up against
some other boats, and it all came out much better than I had imagined.
I ended up in 7th place, after taking a 30 minute penalty for being
over the starting line by about 1/2 of a boat length.

The week leading up to the race itself was a high anxiety and very
intense time...between getting the boat of Zeebrugge, Belgium, towing
here to Douarnenez, France, then trying to put the boat together and
get her in the water during 3 days of gale force winds and driving
rain. Two days before the race, it was a 15 hour day getting the boat
inspected for safety rules of the class and the race and then also
having the boat gauged, which is the whole measurement process the boat
must go through to make sure it is a class legal Mini...there was also
about 3 hours of paperwork involved between entering the race itself
and formally being a boat and skipper registered with the Classe Mini.
It seemed as though there were 100 hoops to jump through, sometimes 10
at once, though it all came off with very few problems...for
measurement violations my spinnaker pole was slightly long and my
cockpit door had to have a cable attaching it to the boat, these things
took a couple of hours to solve. The people in charge of the Classe
Mini and other sailors in the class are all extremely nice, so the
process of sorting out all of the prerace stuff was less painful with
their help. For the Mini Fastnet race which starts next Sunday, I have
some things to repair on the boat, a few items I want to change and I
will have to go through another security (safety check - like the
checks they do for the Bermuda race), but it will all be much less
intense and now that I have done one safety check, from here on they
will be straight forward.

For the race itself there were about 66 boats on the line, with winds
around 15 knots at the start. The course was 210 miles and we had to
round about 12 marks, many of them through or next to little rock
islands and in two cases, pass through an area with 4 to 5 knots of
current, like going through the Race.

At the start, I told myself I would be conservative, after all this was
my 1st solo race and my boat handling skills are not great...though
there I was trying to win the committee boat end of the line.
Unfortunately, I was a bit early and had a fairly aggressive sailor
below me who kept driving me up (as he should have) , so when the gun
went off, I knew I was close and perhaps halfway over the line. As we
were sailing upwind, I tried to hear the radio but did not have the
volume up enough...I considered turning back, though as I looked around
and saw a slew of boats near me, the thought of bearing away, jibing
and picking my way through the close-hauled boats to get back to the
line scared the hell out of me...fortunately I had read the race
instructions and new that being over the line early was a 30 minute
penalty, so I decided to keep going and figured all I wanted to do was
finish the race anyway, who cares about 30 minutes.

By the time I got my head into what was going on, I had probably
slipped to about 20th, so I started to work the boat and push her
upwind...pointing high and moving fast, eventually working my way into
the top 10 on the beat. I crossed tacks with Isabelle a couple of
times, first I was ahead, and then she motored by, looking relaxed,
waving and flying upwind. I eventually got the hang of tacking, which
involves swinging the keel, changing the backstays and tacking the jib,
a bit of a production (for me anyway)...all the other sailors seemed so
graceful at it. About 2/3rds of the way up the beat (20 miles upwind)
the fog rolled in, for 75% of the race there was only 100 yard
visibility --- talk about high anxiety, racing this complicated boat
for the 1st time, in an area I had never sailed, in heavy fog, around a
rocky race course, pulling out charts that were soggy from the high
humidity and for that matter using charts again --- no chart plotters
allowed on Minis, and I have been using chartplotters and computers for
years now. I had little time to prepare my course strategy (though I
had entered about 20 waypoints into the GPS); I figured in the worse
case, I would just follow other boats around, now I could not see any
other boats. I managed to get through all of the major hazards (the 4-5
knot current areas were a bit spooky), tried my new code 0/gennaker
sail with some success (though major problems getting it down - 15
minutes in the bow fighting the thing) was rather poor at jibing the
boat with the spinnaker up (got he new sheet wrapped around the keel
somehow on one jibe) --- it seemed that each time I was having boat
handling problems, the fog had lifted enough for me to see a whole
group of boats parade by. I kept reminding myself to just finish the
race, do not worry about the result. Even the chief measurer came up to
me as I was leaving the dock and said "Clay, just finish the race."

After passing through a fairly significant hazard, Isles de Glenan,
with only the main and jib (so I could focus of navigating), I got the
nerve to put up the big spinnaker after another slew of boats went by
me...all of a sudden, I was off and running, steaming along and passing
10 boats that I could see during the next 20 miles. When rounding a
leeward mark near Lorient, I could see about 15 to 20 boats, but had no
idea were they were in the pack of 66, though most seemed to be protos
with an odd series boat here and there, so I figured I was in the top
half of the fleet. It was now a 70 mile beat (more or less) in 10 to 15
knots of wind...I crossed tacks with a few boats I had rounded the
leeward mark with and then the fog socked in thick again, I did not see
another boat for the next 6 hours.

I chose the outside route on the beat (upwind options were fairly open
with a few marks on the coast to observe), you could either go outside
of the Isle de Glenan heading back North or go back around and through
this island area (more of a coastal route)...an option one might take
to play the current which was soon to shift against us. I had studied
the currents on both routes and did not see any real advantage to going
back inside the islands and figured most boats were headed offshore (I
just could not see them). I was in my own private world, at times
leaving the boat on autopilot, sitting on the rail, legs over the side,
listening to my Ipod, glancing under the main for any approaching boats
- they must be there, just beyond the curtain of fog. Hours later the
fog lifted so that visibility increased to about 3 or 4 miles and I
could make out one boat, about 2 miles back, on the same outside route.
I studied the island area and inside route with my binoculars but could
make out nothing. One boat finally approached from the shore area, but
I was not familiar with this one (I was looking for boats I had rounded
the leeward mark with), I was not close enough to make out his hull
number with the binnos. I never saw any more boats and then the fog
socked in again - by then, I had resigned myself to the fact that the
inside route must be the local knowledge deal, all the boats must have
gone that way, and that somehow they had smoked me. I was never really
clear of my positioning at the leeward mark, and figured with that
group I rounded with were well ahead, I must be in the 20s or 30s ---
what the hell, I just needed to finish the damn race. The sun went down
(it is light until about 1030 here) it became very cold and I was
rather tired, I had not slept for 36 hours straight. The fog slightly
lifted again so I had 1/2 mile visibility - I started sleeping for
10 minutes at a time in the cockpit, setting my ear shattering alarm to
make sure it was no longer than that. I finally rounded a buoy at
Chausse de Sein (high current area with major reef areas inside) and
had about 40 miles of downwind work ... around a couple of buoys and
then to the finish. I was tired, so I took it easy, not setting the
spinnaker for a good part of this leg...I was nervous about a screwing
up and having a major mistake now. Eventually, two tricolor lights
appeared from behind, and over a matter of time, sailed on by...I
thought okay, two was enough, time to start pushing again, and it was
an opportunity to dry out the big spinnaker (which I had dropped in the
water earlier on a take-down).

Eventually, through the early morning light and the partially lifted
fog, I made out the finish line. As I sailed on across, I thought, if I
am in the top twenty, I will be very happy - though in reality, I was
happy to just have finished. A hard bottom inflatable boat approached
(they have fleets of these boats to help maneuver Minis in and out of
the marina)... one of the guys held up six fingers, I must have looked
perplexed (I was actually astounded) so he did it again --- I thought,
hell I am tired, he must have flashed a two before the 6 ... though he
pulled up alongside and said, great job, 6th position. I still did not
believe it until I rounded into the harbor and only 5 boats were on the
dock (including Isabelle's boat, she got 2nd). I was completely
amazed. Needless to say, the chicken and rice, and beer, at 7:30 in the
morning was a welcome treat. I learned that four boats had plowed into
the rocks in various places on the race course

Acadia worked very well, I seem to be able to getting her going fast in
certain conditions and points of sail, I just need lots of training so
I have the confidence in my boat handling skills. Many of the sailors
here, especially the top ones, are very skilled at maneuvering their
boats, it is very impressive to watch. When I sail with Isabelle next
week in the Mini Fastnet, I am sure I will learn a ton. The Fastnet is
a 900 mile doublehanded race which starts on Saturday. They should have
tracking info on the same website.

I am attaching a couple of pictures so you can have a feel for what it
is like. The tide here is over 20 feet which makes for some interesting
times.

Thanks so much for all your support. There is no way I would ever be
here without it.

Clay Burkhalter
Team Acadia