A Rocket to Dog Heaven

I hate reading boat reviews – really, I do.  They piss me off.  That’s a problem, because like most of you I’m obsessed with sailboats, and every month I read all the stupid reviews in every magazine I can find.  With a few notable exceptions (thanks Mr. Perry) there’s only one review in twenty that’s even worth looking at.  The first review of a brand new boat is always interesting, but the 15 subsequent that follow in every other magazine are redundant and a waste of space and paper.  I even tried to write one myself after sailing the local Melges 32, and actually, I hated that review too.  If there’s nothing new in it, it should never be published.  Every now and then someone comes up with a new take on some boat, but wading through the crap that some staff writers come up with is almost too painful to read.  We all know their lingo:  An overpriced underperformer is a “luxury value for the discerning owner.”  Shoddy construction means you’ve got a real “people’s boat.”  Slow and piggish is “seakindly and cruising capable” while poorly thought-out means “quirky and eccentric.”  I understand that magazines want to keep their advertisers happy, but why be so transparent?  I don’t even want to get started on reviewers’ incessant need to tell me how every storage locker works, and guess what- if you tell me it’s laid out for singlehanding you don’t need to explain where every clutch and sheet is led – I think we all get it. 

This is not a boat review.  There are plenty of reports, most of them glowing, on the Rocket 22.  There’s no good reason to rehash the basics at all.  If you’re into reviews, you  read them all for yourselves.  I’ll just tell you the story I’ve told to my friends who’ve asked me about the race I did on the Rocket, and if you don’t like this kind of report, just go back to reading your magazine.  You’ll find that the new Beneteau 523 has great “speed potential” and “cuts quietly through the water.” Compared to what, a freaking icebreaker?  Give me a break.

It was all a sort of weird coincidence that Mer and I got to sail the Rocket at all.  Northern Michigan’s most laid back and fun regatta is called Red Fox.  It’s one of those races with a format that most of us love – two days of racing in between two good parties, with a bigger party in between the two races.  It’s the last big race of the summer for Charlevoix Yacht Club, which is damned close to the arctic circle.  The first day you race down the very narrow 15 mile long Lake Charlevoix, and the second day you race back.  The water is clear, blue and gorgeous, the shoreline is lush and green, the wind usually blows, and there’s not enough fetch for any real waves to build.  Red Fox’s timing at the end of August means that lots of families make a little vacation out of it, and there’s not a lot of drama.  It’s also a lot of people’s last chance to hang with friends that they may not see until next spring.  Even cooler is the fact that it’s a real “run what you brung” event – the biggest boat this year was a 70 foot sled, the smallest a Nacra 5.8 cat. 

Over the past few years, the very active Midwest Melges 24 fleet has really taken over this race, with the largest one-design start by far. I was looking forward to it for months as it would be my first real OD distance race, with a dozen or more 24s on a long point-to-point course. The trash talking in Detroit had already started.  My year racing with this ultra-competitive class has taught me more than some 40,000 miles of racing and cruising ever did, and I couldn’t wait to use what I’d learned in a race that would also reward some of the distance skills I’ve honed over the years.  Then, a few weeks before Red Fox, my competitive edge was abruptly dulled.  Our “first-born” was a Bullmastiff named Bob, and he was just three years old.  After a few weeks of tests and deteriorating health, the vets found a massive tumour in his massive chest.  The dog was part of our little family and part of the Detroit sailing scene - he was the reason that Mer and I moved into our first house together, he was partially responsible for us getting engaged, and he shared everything in our lives, especially messing about in boats and hanging around with sailors.  Suddenly my days were filled with carting Bob to canine oncology centers, funding chemotherapy, and trying to avoid bawling every time I looked at this amazing animal.  There was little time left to get ready or excited for a fleet race, and being totally spent at the end of the race wouldn’t leave me any energy to play with my dog during what turned out to be his last days on the planet.

It may be nothing but a mental crutch, but I believe that things happen for a reason.  Within a couple of days we’d replaced ourselves on Cujo with top-notch sailors (and an enthusiastic newbie, Sister Clean), and around the same time we agreed to sail Red Fox on the newest Rocket 22 under (GASP!) PHRF.  We could be “up north” with all of our friends while avoiding the pressure and fatigue that comes with racing the Melges, while sailing for a group of SA supporters with what seemed like a cool boat.  To add to the appeal, the builders are doing this because they believe in the boat, and they’re honest folks.  I really liked them after we met in Chicago at last year’s boat show.  And we’d have plenty of time to hang with Bob and to let him check out the real beauty that northern Michigan has to offer.

We drove to Charlevoix with Bob in the back of the truck, and were somewhat surprised to get to the parking lot and find Countdown fully rigged and ready to launch.  Al Barnes has a pretty cool job at Rocket Boats; he drives all over the country and shows off the Rocket – entering races, taking interested sailors out on the boat, all the while living in his conversion van complete with a queen-size mattress.  His very understanding wife had told him “Go sailing, it’s what you love”, and here he was.  Al had set up the entire boat himself – something I couldn’t quite figure out, since it takes at least two of us to get the rig up on the Melges – but he’s had a lot of experience with it over the past year and it showed. He’s a hell of a sailor too, with years of racing keelboats, 5o5s and lots more.  The only hard part about Al is his accent – all weekend I felt like I was an extra on the set of The Kids in the Hall. 

The three of us launched the boat and went out to race a little beer canner and get to know the boat and each other.  We had a great couple of hours on the water before packing the boat back up and going over to the club to have a few drinks and introduce Bob to Charlevoix.  He hung out in front of the club while we drank and chatted, and as I listened to the Melges guys and girls talking about rig settings I realized that I was going to be just fine sailing PHRF while my friends all lived and breathed one-design.  Competing your ass off is great, and it fills a need that I definitely have, but fierce competition has a way of making some people forget why they sail in the first place; to have a good time with good people.  I liked being on the outside of it for a change, and Bob liked the fact that I was focused on rubbing his shoulders rather than on strategizing for tomorrow’s race.

The nice late start let us drive Bob and the Rocket van down to the finish in Boyne City, about 20 miles away.  We left him in the van, curled up on the carpet with a big bone and headed back to the race course.  We barely made our start, but there was no drama.  Our friend Anne, a first-year sailor, joined us aboard, and off we went in a class with a Beneteau/Farr 25 (a platu?), a B25, an S2 9.1 and a few other random boats.  Given that both days of the regatta turned out to be 95 % beating, I was sure we’d have the pants beaten off us by a class where we had the shortest boat (by a lot) and the fastest rating.  That’s not how it turned out.  I’m not going to give the play by play of the race, as Al Barnes already wrote it up, but I will tell you that we won our class without too much trouble.  After the races we spent more time with Bob and our close friends and family than we did partying and drinking with loud and raucous Detroit Melges sailors.  We took lazy walks through a quaint town, and got a taste of the whole “family sport” thing that I’ve been ignoring since I started racing in fast boats.  And Bob got more hugs from more little kids than any dog could wish for.

On the water the first day, the S2 beat us on corrected time, but on the second day Al added some sportboat techniques that I suggested and we were just gone, in winds from 3 knots to 16.  As I’ve said, I really do not want to write the same kind of review that everyone else does, so I’ll focus on what interested me about the boat –and on what hasn’t been said over and over. 

Layout and Controls

While the hull design is even older than the Melges 24, the rest of the boat is very new, and a lot of attention was given to it.  It’s clear that the designers chose to optimize the boat for a crew of three or four at the most.  While the cockpit is gigantic, all the sail controls are concentrated in one of two areas; at the driver’s feet and on either side of the companionway.  In truth, this boat is probably easier to sail with 2 than with 4- the only time that you even need three crew is to douse the big kite, and a good forward crew could handle that fine so long as the spin halyard is handed back to the driver.  Everything that can be is led under the deck, which means that there is no such thing as an ass cleat on the Rocket.  Considering the number of screwed up tacks and gybes I’ve had on a Melges from fleshy pressure, this means less boathandling mistakes on the Rocket.  On any kind of point to point race, the barber haulers are awesome – what a simple way to increase performance on a close reach!  I think they’re led to a 4 to 1 purchase below deck, and they attach to the jib sheets with a little stainless ring like the inhaulers on a Farr 40.  When I asked Al about water getting into the boat through all the holes in the deck, he explained that they’re all sealed off from the hull by drip trays which send any water over the side or into the cockpit.  There are two plates either side of the companionway that hold a variety of turning blocks and cleats for trimming the jib and kite.  These let you control the sheet from windward, leeward or way aft.  I ripped the crap out of my side on one of these plates – I would change these plates somewhat.  There was also too much friction in a few of the purchases and on the 2-1 jib sheets.  These will need to be addressed either by the builder or by the owner.

The foredeck is a totally different animal from the Melges, or any small sportboat I’ve seen.  It’s a big, fat, safe-feeling dance floor, and instead of launching from the companionway you launch from the forward hatch.  It seems to work fine, although I’d like to try companionway launches to see how much quicker they are, if at all.  We never tried the symmetric pole – I like the fact that the boat has it, but I think the only people who will use it are those who are teaching or learning.  It’s probably not faster than the asso in conditions other than big air dead downwind.  The bowsprit controls, like everything else, are simple and easy and all do-able from the high side.   It’s a comfortable boat to hike on, although the class rules will likely prohibit legs-out hiking for OD racing. 

The driver gets some neat controls too, all in his little control pod.  Considering all the time I’ve spent telling drivers on Melgi to keep their head on the sails when they’re reaching for the backstay or traveler lines, it’s nice to see a layout that lets the helm do so much without looking down.  Something I haven’t seen before is a 4 to 1 jib halyard line right at his feet – instant power in the jib.  The driver also has a 12 to 1 vang and cunningham under his control.

The rig is set up like a 1D35, but with a screw jack under the mast instead of hydraulics – that means no backstay, and the shrouds are set where they’re set.  You tune the rig by going below and turning the big stainless screw handle.  Screw the rig up and it bends, screw it back down and it straightens.  It takes less than half the time to change the rig settings than it does on the Melges.  

Melges vs. Rocket – Who’s Faster?

I need to emphasize that every one I’ve spoken to at Rocket Boats has told me that they are not competing with the Melges 24.  I believe them, but there are too many similarities to avoid the comparison.  I’ve spent the last year racing with every one of the Melges 24s at Red Fox, and that gave me a unique position to make that comparison.  There are some spectacular sailors in the group and some of them have been racing the boat for ten years.  I talked a little smack with them and was really anxious to see how we compared. 

You really do sail the boats in exactly the same way; for all their differences they are similar in size, weight, and hull form.  The Melges is a little lighter and two feet longer; the Rocket is deeper with a heavier bulb.  I didn’t realize how much bigger the Rocket’s rig is until we were rafted up next to Fu,a fast Detroit boat, but it looked to be almost 3 feet taller.  Sitting next to Fu showed us just how much wider the Rocket is too.  With no backstay, the Rocket can carry a much more heavily roached main than the Melges too. The Rocket is a lot flatter underneath – she looks like an upside-down Frisbee out of the water, and she’s got a lot more buoyancy in the bow.  We didn’t get to try her out in the big chop that Melges’ hate, but I’d assume the Rocket would slam even more than the Melges in those conditions.  Downwind, the Rocket planes easier than the Melges.  The M24 has a distinct transition zone between displacement and planing – when you get on a plane she surges forward.  The R22 sort of glides onto a plane – you don’t feel the rush of acceleration as much.  All of a sudden the Rocket just gets quiet and keeps accelerating smoothly.

The first day we were passed by three Melgi about a third of the way through the race.  The first two are perennial winners in the Midwest fleet, and one is a newcomer to the class with decades of dinghy experience.  We repassed the third boat and held off the rest until the finish.  The second day we were passed by one boat with less than a mile to go in the race, and the driver of that boat is arguably the fastest in the fleet in terms of pure boatspeed.  When Al finally dialed in that giant mainsail and concentrated on keeping the boat dead flat, we were roughly dead even in speed with even this top sailor, and this was with 200 pound less on our rail.  Of course we sailed a lot faster when there was a Melges next to us than when we were out in front of a fleet of handicap boats, and to me that means that there is a lot more speed to be found in the Rocket.  Realize that the M24 class has had over ten years of technique and sail development, as well as hundreds of OD events to test and hone boatspeed, while the Rocket has pretty much had none.  I can only report on the conditions that we saw, but in 5-15 knots upwind, the Rocket is probably the faster boat, despite her shorter length.  That fat main is sexy as hell, but the jury’s still out on the wide-load ass.  From some angles it looks like a mini’s rear, from others like a chubby teenager’s.

Who Cares?

A lot of new sportboats have come out this year and last, but everyone acknowledges that the Melges 24 is the standard in this size sportboat.  There may be faster boats, but the combination of speed, simplicity, and value has kept this 10+ year-old design strong.  They’re not for everyone though – they require 800 pounds of crew, a lot of cash, and a very strong competitive drive.  A lot of older sailors move out of the class because it just gets too hard, and a lot of people never join it because it is intimidating to them.  There’s not much tweakability on the Melges either – when you’re racing short windward-leewards there’s no need for things like barber haulers and adjustable jib-halyards.

The Rocket is a mellower ride, and is sure to be a mellower class.   The boat is cheaper and needs less crew and less athleticism, but still has the speed and excitement of the other sportboats.  It also should appeal to those who like to play with their sail shape a lot, and especially to those who plan to race point-to-point races (but make sure you get a screacher!)  The builder is really a good guy, and he’s assembled a group of equally good people to help get people into the boat.  As soon as Anthony realized that his weights were going to be off he retooled his entire factory for resin infusion to ensure that the boats all weigh within a few pounds of each other, and he’s been supporting SA for a long time now, answering any questions that are put to him publicly in the SA forums.  He wanted me to tell anyone to PM him through the forum or email him if you have any questions, and to come and say hello at the Annapolis show (which starts today).  Countdown, the Rocket that we sailed, will be available for a special price after the show, so make them an offer – they’ve got a lot more boats to build and they’re doing what it takes to grow the fleet.

In case you’re wondering, Rocket didn’t pay me a dime to write this article; in fact, between the time I lost at work while writing and the sheer volume of coffee I went through in order to get this in front of you before the Annapolis Boat Show, I lost money.   It was worth it on so many levels though.  I gained some new friends, I learned to appreciate yet another aspect of racing that I had previously ignored, and I had the most fulfilling weekend ever with my dog and my future bride.  We took a very long route home after the regatta.  I turned down a totally random dirt road for no reason at all, and it took us right to the famous Point Betsy, with its solitary old lighthouse standing on a lovely beach on the Lake Michigan shore.  With the westerlies blowing, very few people would have been able to tell whether they were in Michigan, Oregon or Northern California unless they tasted the water.  Mer and I spent a few minutes with Bob there, watching the sun set over the inland sea while making sure he knew just how much we loved him, and how deeply we’d miss him when he was gone.  His tail wagged as he licked our faces and lapped up water from the surf, and he seemed more playful and content than he had since he began to get sick.  I think all three of us knew that Bob would never make it to the Pacific, but this would do just fine. 

Our scenic route home home took almost seven hours, and once there we collapsed into bed.  Bob stopped breathing some time before sunrise.  I am pretty sure that his last weekend was the best of his life. 

-Mr, Clean
October 5, 2006
Good Photos by Dan Tosch, other photos by me and some other random people

In loving memory of BOB

March 6th, 2003 – September 4th, 2006