|
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.
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
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 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 In loving memory of BOB March 6th, 2003 – September 4th, 2006 |