Fastnet 50th Edition
I had started keel boat sailing two years prior, racing aboard Guernsey yacht J/97 called Fandangle ‘around the cans’ and had truly caught the bug.
One of Fandangle’s regular experienced crew members was Ron, a lifelong sailor and keen racer. A man of relatively few words, during an ‘on the rail’ chat, Ron hinted at the idea of purchasing local yacht Majic2, a 40ft J/120 which had sadly been neglected and left on a mooring unused for many years after her previous owner passed away.
Ron had sailed Majic2 in a Transat race and shared many experiences with this charming vessel, and the opportunity clearly proved too great to miss. With Majic2 acquired in late 2022, the plan was to shakedown sail her in a winter series of races and see what broke. Plenty did. It did however identify the weak points, and laid a course for many required upgrades.
An Idea
Stewing behind the scenes was a grand plan, initiated by the equal drive of Ron’s daughter Caroline. Caz, had raced in the Fastnet race with her dad 30 years ago, and not only was 2023 a significant anniversary of that event, it would be the 50th Edition of this prestigious race.
Joe, a friend and fellow crew member on Fandangle was working in the local boatyard at the time, knew Caroline from scouting days and had bumped into Ron as he was acquiring new halyards for M2. Ron let slip the Fastnet word and asked if Joe might be interested in joining the adventure. Joe mentioned this to me, perking my ears. “Don’t suppose they need any more crew?” Asking hopefully. Joe dropped Caroline a line, who in turn spoke to Ron. “No way!” was his initial response. Blast.
No way, as it turned out was more of a “no way, Sam’s interested? That’s brilliant!” I was committed and not one to do things by halves, quickly became heavily invested in getting to the start line.
Sea Survival
The Fastnet requires a high level of safety precautions, training and competency expected of the skipper and ccrew. The Fastnet disaster of 1979 had given the race a new status, and little did we know how alike the weather would be for this latest edition of the race.
One crisp spring morning before the Trelade hotel has started heating the pool for the visitor season, we donned lifejackets and rehearsed liferaft and sea survival techniques as part of the RYA/ ISAF Sea Survival Certification.
This amongst other learnings, really stressed the importance of stepping up into a liferaft from a sinking vessel and just how uncomfortable life in a crowded liferaft could be as a last resort.
The Kelleher Cup
One of our qualification races for the Fastnet was a new race organised by the RCIYC Guernsey. The Kelleher cup was a great concept, with a potentially exciting and challenging course around the Channel Islands with strong tidal gates and different points of sail to consider. It would take us from Guernsey > Casquets lighthouse > Hanois Lighthouse > La Roches Douvres Lighthouse > Jersey's East Coast and back to St Peter Port.
We got off to a good start with the tide helping us all north to the Casquets and trading positions with others in the fleet as we started to learn the trim of a brand new main sail and jib we had hoisted just an hour before the race start. Rounding the mark at sunset, we set course to Guernsey's west coast. Unfortunately the breeze began to die off, and by the time we were south of Guernsey and the sun had risen the breeze had near vanished along with a couple of our competitors would had retired based on a bleak light airs forecast for the next 12 hours.
We saw this as an opportunity however to check our sail wardrobe out. We hadn't hoisted all our spinnakers yet and with next to no wind to fill them we entertained ourselves raising all the spis whilst spinning around in circles chasing the slightest ripple of breeze on the water. Then we struck gold, Ron had ordered a new furling Code Zero which we unpacked and hoisted for the first time.
This mounted off the large trademark J/boat extendable bow sprit proved to be a charm, as we gradually built speed ghosting along at near wind speed and actually making positive VMG (velocity made good). By the time of rounding Roches Douvres Lighthouse in french waters, we were well powered up and about to cross paths with a rather special vessel.
Malizia Sea Explorer, a latest generation foiling IMOCA 60, after sailing around the world in the latest edition of the Ocean Race (formerly the Volvo Ocean Race), was on the last leg, bound for the finish in the Med. I'd been following the race online over the previous months and we just so happened to pass within a few hundred metres of each other after all but one other boat had retired from our race.
Trading friendly waves with skipper Boris Herrmann, we were also treated to drone footage by the onboard reporter Antoine Auriol. Unsurprisingly we came away with a podium finish that race, albeit being forced to retire at the time limit.
RORC Cowes - Dinard - St Malo Race. 150nm.
Through prior travel commitments, this was a qualification race I could not partake in. I closely followed the tracker from Spain and was glad to see Majic2 stick with the bulk of the fleet through a challenging race for the scratch crew in their first RORC race.
Catching up post race, it was clear they had experience their fair share of calamities, with not one but both of the aluminium water tanks splitting in heavy weather and discharging an not inconsiderate amount of water into he bilges which overflowed. Waking up from a watch change and stepping into water from the bunk was particularly alarming until a taste test determined they weren't actually sinking and the water was fresh (ish). As required by the regulations they resorted to the reserve bottled drinking water for the remainder of the race.
The rig
That same winter I had been racing on Fandangle, chomping along downhill towards a leeward mark in a stiff breeze with the larger spinnaker up. We'd all shuffled aft to keep the bow from diving as we danced into planning speeds but we're primed to assume positions for the spi drop and mark rounding.
Rhe drop came sooner than anticipated. With an almighty bang the backstay let go, whistling over our heads in recoil.
All within seconds, the shout of “BACKSTAY GONE!” triggered the skipper to throw the helm across sending us into a broach to de power the sails and try save the mast. With the tack line un-cleated and sheets loose the spinnaker was dropped in the soup in haste. I ran a spare spi halyard aft to act as a temp backstay as we wrestled the main down and took a moment to catch our breath and assess the damage. The rig was still above our heads and thankfully no one was hurt in process.
Back on the mooring, assessing the remainder of the backstay, it was thought racing may even resume the following week. It was not to be. A more thorough rig inspection up the mast identified another issue, likely unrelated but had previously gone unnoticed. The cap shrouds, tensioned year on year with heavy racing had pulled the hounds into the aluminium mast profile creating stress fractures that could not be repaired.
A new mast would be required. Several months later, Majic2 sat on her mooring with an unusually high waterline. Like Fandangle she was without a stick too. The very same fracture issue had been identified. With Fandangle's replacement mast still months away this was a massive blow to the Majic2 team who had already grown a bond through the planning and training stages to date. It dawned upon us that Majic2 would not be ready in time for Fastnet.
Ron had invested a huge amount of personal time, money and effort to this point, and stubbornly he would not be defeated.
A plan with a local rigger was devised requiring all standing SS rod rigging to be replaced and a custom collar fabricated to reinforce the damaged mast segment. It was not optimal, weight that high on the rig would affect performance and defects in the cast aluminium spreader feet would make tunning the rig very challenging, but crucially it was safe and there was a glimmer of hope that we’d actually get to the start line.
Delivery
We departed at approximately 1800 from St Peter Port to Cowes with a favourable northbound tide, cheered on by family and friends, and lastly escorted up the little Russel by Dad on family boat La Pecheresse. Sunset was seen over the beginning of the eastbound shipping lane of the Casquets TSS and Common Dolphins arrived to seemingly show us the way, the first of many encounters.
Departing Guernsey for Cowes
Cowes
We approached the Needles end of the Solent at sunrise. Radio mast lights floated High above the horizon of the IOW qnd dominated the navigation lights sought in the early morning light. The wind which had persisted from the west putting us on a comfortable beam reach quickly diminished as the sun rose and we resorted to the donkey.
Approaching the needles we see a large pleasure cruiser, 50ft long or so slowly edging around the foot of the Needles light, its behavior caught the eye given its proximity to the wreck of the SS Varvassi and state of tide. A mere 10 minutes later we hear a mayday call on the VHF, the motor vessel is taking on water. We'd pinged it on the AIS and confirmed ID. A trio of 30ft + power boats had not long roared passed us headed beyond the Needles and were in a prime location to assist. When they did not acknowledge the distress we were ready to divert and pull a 180, however overhearing the radio chatter we could see another vessel far quicker than us had arrived on scene and was aiding the vessel. By this time the vessel had been run onto the beach and we would have been little help with a fin keen draft of over 2.2m. By this time a coastguard helicopter had flown overhead and Yarmouth RNLIs Severn class lifeboat is in close pursuit. This event on a calm sunny morning would pale in comparison to the heroic actions of the emergency services in just 3 days time.
We carried on our approach to Cowes with ‘A’ watch awaking and the first of many porridge breakfasts over the next week.
Now a breathless morning we take the opportunity to practice reefing sails. By now we new reefing would play a big part of our Fastnet experience with gale force winds forecast and with many of the crew in-experienced in the process and the new main sail having never been reefed in anger this would prove to be an invaluable hour spent practicing.
Arriving in Cowes we start to truly feel part of a grand event, Shephards marina along with all other marinas in Cowes are close to full and yachts are beginning to moor up 4 abreast. We now had a few hours to kick back and rest after a first sail, Nathan took to kipping under an air mattress after over exerting himself inflating the forepeak berth.
Final Preparations
Many jobs still had to be attended to. The new main sail had not yet been fitted with sail wear patches and only lower patches had been supplied. A trip to the friendly local sail loft quickly remedied this and we carefully fashion these into the right shape and installed with 3 pairs of hands per patch.
A rig inspection was carried out and doubled up as great opportunity to scout out the fleet from above.
Deck hardware was silicone lubricated and all shackles were inspected and taped where necessary as both a mark to show they had been checked, but also to prevent any possibility they could shake loose underway in the next 700 miles at sea.
We collected 2 YB trackers from RORC, the first being reluctant to function and with a cover that threatened to break and drop off in the marina before we started.
Provisioning was a large project in itself and through Caroline’s meticulous organisation all food found a home and were suitably labelled for ease of location.
Race Start
Running the line
We had made it, well so we thought,
Passing through the safety gate on the morning of the race start, one particular official wasn't happy our storm jib was not orange. A requirement of post 2013 storm jibs only in the regulations and one we had researched beforehand,
In what now might be seen as a brief moment of shear panic, that we could not participate, JP heroically located his orange skimpy travel towel and proceeded use clothes pegs to attach it to the white storm jib. In the seconds it took to turn around and gather the attention of the crew for presentation and approval, then look back at his creation, all but one of the 5 pegs had pinged off. Thankfully the race committee soon confirmed our compliance with the regulations. Game on. We stowed the storm sails and started scouting our start line - one of the busiest in offshore yacht racing anywhere on earth.
As the breeze built and was forecast to continue increasing, we double reefed the main and only partially unfurled the heavyweight J3 jib. A smaller J4 would have been preferable but it was not within our wardrobe.
Our excitement built as the larger faster yachts in the fleet had their respective starts accompanied with low flying media helicopter and the wind and gusts got heavier as per the forecast into the 20knot range and beyond and the sea state grew to match.
Time for serious faces
The last AIS location we saw before Vari sank
A Diversion
Beating west out the Solent with tide underneath us against the prevailing and increasing wind in the 30+ knot range the sea state heavy deteriorated as we approached Hurst point. Just hours into a race which would likely take 5 days, a concern arose. Attempting to get more forestay tension and mast bend by cranking on the backstay, it began to slip and ease on it’s own. This was potentially a show stopper as without any tension and heavy weather forecast the rig would be unsafe to race with. Tethered on and hanging off the transom, the hydraulic ram was fiddled with and fortunately started to co-operate. Watching the mast pump as we pounded through waves, the effectively untested nature the rig was constantly in question. We were carefully to crank the tension on the check stay after each tack in an effort to minimise unnecessary motion and stress.
By Yarmouth I was completed soaked through, my foulies had not fared well against swamping waves and waves that had got down my neck had started to fill my boots.
Then, a question was posed by the skipper. Should we seek shelter? This next tack would have us laying Yarmouth, and the potential to pick a mooring to pause and assess the integrity of the boat.
Initially a wave of disappointment flooded over me, maybe this Fastnet was over already. We ultimately agreed it was a sensible move, and initially attempted to pick up a mooring under sail. Gusting 30knots with a 2nd reef main and a strong tide this proved neigh on impossible, so the main was dropped and the engine fired up. Finally secured on a mooring in relative safety a harbour authority rib came up to us, and warned we run aground as the tide dropped, so once again we played the game of trying to pick another mooring buoy in worsening conditions. I nearly went for a swim from the bow trying.
Mayday
Stripping off wet layers down below, we could fully tune in and follow the VHF radio chatter. It was chaotic. Multiple Mayday’s and Pan Pan’s were being called. The most distressing was from Vari, a Sunfast 3600 which was sinking fast near or on the Shingles bank, a notoriously shallow and changing part of the sea bed which the tide ripped over. The crew were taking to a liferaft as the vessel rapidly sunk. Other competitors tried to assist by passing the location of the liferaft onto the coastguard. Confusion arose as another liferaft had been washed off a different vessel and deployed and communication had been lost with the sailors. The raft was found empty before the correct raft was thankfully found with the sailors safely onboard.
Early the following morning, despite remaining on a mooring we had gained about 80 places in the rankings, owning to the number boats and crews who had retired from the race due to sickness, injuries, and damage sustained to their vessels. Slipping the mooring we departed in poor visibility in heavy rain. Eerily a large 60ft ketch came limping the other way with a fallen mast across the deck.
Overfalls and Fishing
Ron’s brother Jeff, with an unexpected visitor
Back into race mode we made good progress along the south coast and we started adjusting to our watch rota of three hours on 3hours off. Helming through the heavy overfalls near Portland Bill was a particular highlight. Plunging in the trough of a particularly big wave, I watched the bow disappear, only to reemerge with one less nav light on the pulpit rail. The heavy weigh jib suffered too, with a small tear were it was partially furled to mimic a J4.
’A’ watch soon became know as ‘J’ watch, with JP, Jeff and Joe. One night they were joined by a Garfish or longnose washed into the cockpit by a particularly large wave.
Rounding the Rock
I could hear increased chatter up on deck as I tried to catch up on sleep down below off watch. We must be close now, I wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. Donning my still soaked foul weather gear and crocs (I’d long since given up on boots), I clambered on deck just as the Fastnet rock started to appear in the haze, there was a still a strong breeze and we didn’t have long to observe the bleak isolated rock and lighthouse we had fought so hard to reach.
30 years on from the first time doing so, Ron and daughter round ‘The Rock’.
A Sleigh Ride and Shipping Lanes
After the rock we found ourselves on a fast reaching leg, with breeze building again as yet another low pressure system approached we surfed increasingly large swell back toward the Sillies, at times unnervingly close to a competitor to leeward who soon became overpowered and rounded up towards us on a couple of occasions.
Mid channel with the spinnaker up we diced in the dark with many unpredictable French trawling fishing vessels crossing the more easily avoided, yet enormous and fast super tankers heading for the Casquet’s TSS lanes whilst we took care not to infringe the exclusion zone and suffer a time penalty.
Course over laid with our competitors
Cherbourg
With thousands of competitors arriving Cherbourg, the party atmosphere was electric and tales of different crews stories were shared bettween many bottles of French cider. For some, this was another Fastnet under their belt having participated in several prior editions. One universal point stood out though, the weather conditions by some margin were some of the worse in the race’s near 100 year history, close to those of the Fastnet tragedy of 1979.
The advancement in safety practices and equipment along with weather modeling and forecasting meant we had taken a quantum leap since the 1970’s. Other than mechanical, structural, and electronic gear failure, severe sea sickness, minor injuries, one sinking, and many vessel retirements, we were glad competitors we left largely unscathed to sail another day.
Majic2's proud crew
What next?
Fastnet was a tough but a hugely rewarding experience. The whole project was an opportunity to practically apply a problem solving mindset more often employed in my work as an architectural technologist. Admittedly, it took a solid week to resume a normal sleep cycle from the watch cycle we were in for 6 days, and returning straight to work felt rather exhausting!
I was fortunate enough to spend a considerable amount time on the helm in heavy weather challenging conditions and learnt great deal about seamanship, vessel handling and life at sea in conditions most would avoid at all costs. One thing was for sure, it would not be my last ‘600 miler’ and I was left keen for more.
For details on the 2024 RORC Caribbean 600 race experience please see Alex Bevis’ blog.
