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An
Anarchist's View:
THE MOTIVATION When you live for the water and you get most of your pleasure from being on top of it or in it, every place has its bad days. San Diego has a few cold weeks and June Gloom. The gorgeous Puget Sound has long, depressing rainy periods. Florida’s got oppressive, windless summers filled with anxiety over the next hurricane. The Mediterranean has its cold and sometimes brutal winters spiced up with weeklong gales from the Alps or the African Desert. Hell, even tropical paradises like North Queensland or Costa Rica have rainy summers when everything becomes saturated with damp and mold. On the Great Lakes, the above “bad days” seem like heaven around this time of year. For most of the sailors and even lots of golfers, February is bullet-eating time. Most years, by the time February rolls around we’ve seen 20 or 30 straight days of grey gloom interspersed with snow, sleet, and other obnoxious things that fall from the sky. The roads by now have been fringed with icy, oily sludge for months and everything is coated with it and then encrusted with salt like gas station pumpkin seeds. People have short fuses- this is when friends are most likely to get in stupid fights that last until April, when spouses file for divorce, when kids “really hate” their parents the most. Cabin fever is bad for everyone, but for sailors it’s truly awful. The denizens of this frigid wasteland avoid suicide during this most difficult period through various means. Obviously those who can afford to spare the time and money will travel as much as possible: To Colorado or Utah to ski, to Florida and Charleston for the winter circuit of sail racing, to Cali or Mexico to party. Those without the means are left to figure out things closer to home. Some sailors take a week or a couple of weekends to go skiing or riding on landfills or on things that can only very generously be termed “mountains.” A few hearty souls load up the old iceboat and chase flat white lakes thousands of miles hoping that the conditions hold. Most increase their booze or drug intake significantly hoping that the time between Groundhog and April Fools’ Day passes by quickly while they are incoherent. For decades, various industries have capitalized on this cabin fever by offering up “expos” in the late winter. You might be amazed at what people will spend money to go see when there’s just nothing else left to do. Here’s a list of just a fraction of these shows offered in the Midwest between January and March:
Although I hope to have the balls to commit suicide if I ever become tempted to attend the Alpaca show, I did succumb to cabin fever last weekend and decided to visit the Strictly Sail show in Chicago. I’ve gone the past couple of years to check out the new gear and see old friends, and while it is a small event, there are usually a few things of interest. I mention the February suicidal depression and the other shows out there to explain this: It just isn’t that hard to get people’s attention at this time of year. The truth is that Strictly Sail Chicago, if offered in, say, San Diego in April, would be a joke. The gear hardly changes from one year to the next, most of the boats are identical every year, many of the staffers are total morons that know nothing about what they are at the show to sell…you get the picture. But most of us have a good time because at least it reminds us of sailing. Everything else that involves leaving the house during February reminds me only of this horrible cold that is like a prison around my soul. Since I was going again this year, I asked the Ed to call up the organizer and get the beautiful Meredith and me some press badges for the show so at least we wouldn’t have to pay to get in. Fellow Melges 24 sailor and friend, Laura M, had offered up her spare bedroom to us when we spoke about it in Key West last month, and since she’s also got a big dog, we decided it would be a perfect fit. So Meredith, Bob the Bullmastiff and I left work on Friday, jumped in the truck, and rolled to Chi-town. Arriving at Laura’s at about 10:30 pm, I hauled the bags and the dog up the four flights of stairs. After collapsing into the couch, a massive tumbler of vodka suddenly appeared in my hand. I took the hint and the night began. I almost forgot how nice it is to be able to get a cab on the street (not so much in Detroit), and we all went to the Liar’s Club to soak in the big-town atmosphere. Somehow we ended up at Nick’s Uptown at about 3 AM, one of the few places that serves drinks that late, although this part of the night seems to have never made it into my memory banks. Saddled with my 210 pounds of lush, the girls eventually got me home, where I collapsed into bed. Needless to say, the early start we had envisioned for Strictly Sail Saturday was unlikely to happen. In fact, we didn’t get out the door until noon, and nobody felt particularly healthy. It turns out that my brain cells were not the only casualties of the night; I also managed to lose Mer’s cell phone and a credit card. Debauchery is so…rewarding? We drove down to Navy Pier, an extremely cool place for a boat show even in winter. If you haven’t been, it’s about a half-mile long pier with one long expo center in the middle. The building contains the actual expo hall where the show is held, parking decks, some small conference rooms where they hold seminars, a few restaurants and bars, a strange little funhouse (screwy mirrors and all) and a permanent stained-glass exhibition that has pieces depicting Jesus, Elvis, Bob Marley and barnyard animals, among other random shit.
Meredith, Laura and I made our way to the media registration area, and my request for the Sailing Anarchy press passes met with some really blank stares. I kept asking different young girls but got the same vacant look from all of them. They asked for a business card, so I gave them my card, which shows that I work for a land developer in Troy, Michigan. The stares got even blanker. Laura, who owns her own very cool PR firm in Chicago, took over without asking and two minutes later we had press badges and a bunch of promotional stuff. She’s that good. If you have some PR work you need done, or if you’re just another useless bastard that needs a smart woman to rescue you for a fee, email her here.
THE BOATS We spent the rest of the day checking out the expo floor. We did our best to search for the interesting gear, the new hot toys, the funny and the stupid. We didn’t find much of anything, though. The big Dehler (what, 38 feet?) was probably the hit of the show, packed with pasty-faced Illinoisans (is that a word?), and it was in exactly the same spot as it was in ’05. It’s a reasonably good-looking boat, but do they really think I’m going to wait 40 minutes for a chance to see this fat Euro-cruiser? I understand that I am not their target market, but it did say “press” on my badge, and you’d think they’d at least want to say something positive about their big pig, or at least not be bitchy. Actually, if I remember correctly from last year, it was a cool boat, had a quick looking underbody, but with some really dumb design features, especially in the cockpit- but I could be totally wrong- maybe if they had tried talking to me rather than just asking me to wait for 40 minutes I’d be sure. The fact that this conservative, uninspiring design had a 40 minute long wait gives you some sense of what we’re working with here. A few weeks ago an anarchist posted a story from a German boat show, and it was full of hot boats and hot women. Chicago was a little different. The hot women must have been working the Alpaca show.
Of course every boat show has its requisite pod of Beneteaus, 8 of them accessible from a single stairway where the marketing people put the big “B” sticker on your chest as you give them your e-mail address (mine was idontsailpigz@flyingtigerboats.com). The boats were the way they always are; full of headroom and furniture with shiny sprayed on varnish, with mid-level hardware, undersized rigs, the ever-annoying Bennie glue-on headliners, and undersized rigs. Most Beneteaus excel at being throwaway cruisers, taking reasonable care of their inhabitants for a handful of good years. They do almost everything reasonably. Having spent over 10,000 miles on Bennies of various sizes, they piss you off too, but not like when Bavaria keel bolts fail or anything like that. It’s more like “this water system must have been designed by a blind child with dyslexia” or “I love having to use an angle grinder and dust mask to be able to get at a bolt that will tighten this stanchion up.” There was a nice sign at the entrance to the stern of the 36.7 advertising that something like 50 boats were in the Great Lakes OD fleets already. You have to give props to that kind of growth for a boat that is just not that interesting. And that traveller looks like just the thing to take a chunk out of the shins every race. Brilliant. Hey, at least it’s cheap and slow. The most interesting part of the Beneteau displays is the people who spend their time on them, especially the really cruise center cockpit boats. If these center cockpit boats bring more people out on the water, I’m all for them, as long as I don’t have to sail with those people. When I first came back to the US after years working on boats in the Med and Caribbean, I discovered that non-racers in the US think Beneteaus are exotic boats that guarantee awesome performance and prestige. They don’t realize that just because something is French doesn’t mean it’s exotic, and that Renault is a French company too. You know what? I just realized that Americans think Renaults are exotic and prestigious as well. Hunter, Bavaria, Island Packet and Catalina were…present. Clearly they fill a need, as does Wal-mart and Hyundai (or in IP’s case, Winnebago). This year I’ll add J/boats to the mix. It’s not that I’m comparing J/boats to Hunters, but the J line was singularly uninspiring and dull. The first regular racing gig I ever had was a San Diego J/105, and I’ve done my time on J/80s, J/35’s and a J/120. They are great boats, but nothing can escape how dull they all look with their identical windows, bows, and entries. Are they pretty? Sure. Do they sail well? Sure (most of them). Are they at all interesting? NO way. Hanse had a couple of pretty boats designed by Judel/Vroljik. I was definitely impressed with the build quality and the lines. The hulls of the 371 was super fair, something I didn’t expect to see on a production cruiser/racer like this one. They had some well thought out features, but the thing that stuck in my mind was this exchange:
Note to sales managers: Train your people, please. You lose more customers by having unknowledgeable salespeople than by having no one at all at the booth. At least if it’s deserted we might come back later.
The Columbia 30 was definitely sexy looking from afar. Up close it was strange but interesting, and looked like a fun boat. I found a lot to pick at, but as I was writing this article Vince Valdes, who re-started the company (which his father built into something of a legend) with this design, called me out of the blue to talk about her. He gave me some good answers to the issues I had with the boat, so I’ll discuss those too after my initial reaction. Those gaff-I mean-square top-mainsails always look powerful, but the rig on the Melges 32 nearby absolutely dwarfed it. I realize these are very different boats, but the difference in rig size seemed really substantial. It’s a bit less so when you consider that by adding the flat top to the inventory they gave the boat serious guns. I didn’t realize square tops added quite so much area, but Valdes said that essentially the sail adds the equivalent of 6 feet of mast to the boat if it had a conventional main. It still is not in the SA/D range of the M-32, but a 41 foot rig with this sailplan gives the Lumbo some real juice. The flat top costs about 25% more than a conventional main would. As others have said in the forums, the cockpit was really deep and not too comfortable, and the driver’s stainless foot braces added that hard to get “unfinished skyscraper girder” look and wasted lots of space. When I looked at the Columbia website I noticed these were not included in the first boat. I really couldn’t figure out why they set the cockpit up in what seemed to me to be a non-ergonomic way. It was like the designer drew a boat he thought looked cool and only afterwards figured out how to accommodate the humans that would have to run it. Alternatively, could the designer have quit halfway through? For instance, the mechanism that raises the keel seemed like it was well designed, with spectra guided up from the keel to the cabin top, along blocks, then down to the winch. The keel being entirely contained within the cabin is a nice touch; until you realize this means the keel only comes up about 2/3 of the way. The result is a trailer like an erector set that rides almost as high off the road as a Mumm 30. Another example: They’ve built a sink inside a sort of armrest next to the starboard settee across from a single-burner gimbaled stove set up the same way next to the port settee. You access these by lifting a lid. The sink is about 3 inches below the electronics mounting area. The stove is recessed deeply in its armrest. Having experienced my share of nasty galley burns at sea as well as having inadvertently destroyed electronics with flying water, I was not impressed with either feature. One final part of the Lumbo was, not surprisingly, both smart and stupid. The nice little Yanmar diesel is mounted directly beneath the cockpit floor in a tidy installation. Because of its location, the saildrive is mounted forward. This installation allows you to pull the engine pretty easily if you ever need to (you could probably lift it with a tackle from the boom), and you take care of maintenance chores in the cockpit, where oil and grease are much easier to clean up. Access from below seemed tricky for my six foot two inches, though. Maybe you’d never really need to get at the engine from below, but somehow, boats being what they are, someone is going to have to do the contortionist wrench dance when they need to work on the engine without rain or spray or crashing waves getting in the way. Funnily enough, when I googled “Columbia Yachts,” the search had the following text attached to the website cache: “The new Morrelli & Melvin designed Columbia 30' sport sailer headlines the return of historic Columbia Yachts…” But when you actually go to the website the designer is listed as Tim Kernan. I’m sure this is old news, but it may explain a lot. Kernan is a longtime Anarchist and designer of the gorgeous and blazingly fast Peligroso as well as working with our favorite Flying Tiger designer to create Icon. She is one of the most flash cruisers I’ve ever seen. She made me drool when first splashed, and she makes me drool every time I see pics of her, kind of like Angelina Jolie. I meant kind of like my fiancée, Meredith. Uh-oh. When Valdes called, the first thing I asked him was what was the deal with the two designers? He explained that M & M was originally awarded the design contract, but they assigned it to Tim Kernan since it really wasn’t their thing. I got the distinct sense that there was some bad blood there, but I’m not the gossipmonger some of you are, and I really don’t care who doesn’t like who or who screwed who. The complications with the designers held up the Lumbo project for over a year, and lost a lot of momentum for a boat that excited hordes of sailors early on. They are now trying hard to build the momentum back up. Valdes’ explanation of the cockpit depth was simple and made sense, and it’s clear that he thought the compromises through thoroughly. With a lifetime of left coast distance sailing under his belt, he wanted quarter berths that were big enough for someone his size (or mine) to be able to move around a little. He’s well right that typical coffin quarters are impossible to move in and they don’t need to be in order to be secure at sea. You also want to be able to spin around so you can sleep feet first while surfing big waves. If you’ve ever cracked your head while sleeping off watch when the bow digs in hard at 18 knots, you know what I’m talking about. The size of the Q-berths means the coamings have to be tall. This also creates a deeper cockpit, which for buoy racing is less efficient for crew work. Offshore though, a deep cockpit is safer and drier, which means the crew will be more comfortable and be able to relax a bit more. Compromises, and not bad ones. After talking to Vince I believe the interior may be more usable than I thought too, but I reserve judgment on that until I get to sear some fresh tuna in oil on that little burner. Veggie oil burns go away after a couple of years anyway.
They’ve built 8 boats to date, and have orders for another few months out. He says the interest level is strong and rising. Vince realizes that the Flying Tiger is going to cut into his sales more than any other boat, but he is proud of his creation and believes that for people who want something a little tougher, a little more distance-oriented and a little higher-end, the Lumbo is an easy choice. In a nod to the J/Boat throng, there will be a wheel option as soon as they can figure out how to engineer it with a stern-hung cassette rudder. Those J/boaters love their wheels… Both Meredith and I loved the Rocket 22, and the biggest part of that may have simply been Anthony Dutton and his excellent crew showing off the boat. While the Melges 24 is the definitive sportboat in the US and Europe, there’s no denying that it’s a bit long in the tooth and appeals to a very specific audience. The Rocket takes a lot of what’s great about the Melges and makes it much more comfortable and intuitive, catering less to the hardcore alpha-male crowd and more toward those who have mellowed with age or never were that psychotic to begin with. I really believe that Dutton doesn’t care all that much how the Rocket compares to the Melges, and I like that confidence. He has obviously thought the compromises out well. The ability to put the conventional kite on when conditions are right gives the boat more versatility and caters more to the tinkering sailor than the Melges can. The utter simplicity of M-24s means that your heads stay out of the boat, and this is one of the reasons that M-24 sailors get so good at fleet races. The Rocket is much more adjustable and much more tweakable, with not a whole lot less speed. The ability to play with lines and optimize sail shape with easy adjustments is important to a large portion of the sailing world, and is important for distance and reachy races. I never sailed the Rocket’s predecessor, the Pocket Rocket, but I think this boat will scorch PHRF fleets until the rating catches up. Some of my M-24 friends will give me crap for it, but I think a well-sailed Rocket can beat an M-24 boat for boat in the right conditions. All the sail controls on a big boat are on the Rocket, and the cabin was a surprise: it’s actually usable and downright luxurious compared to the Melges. I think mast jacks and backstayless rigs will always make me a little nervous though. Of everything new at the show, I think the Rocket was the most impressive. The Melges stand was clean, well done, and full of hot boats and great sailors. Eric Hood was around every time I checked in, showing boats, making sales, and doing his thing. Harry (the 3rd) was looking a bit dazed, probably because of my sailinganarchy.com badge, but I feel these guys have earned my respect. You can slag Melges as much as you want, but the truth is they make great, fun boats and they back every one up with the kind of service we all wish for from our own random boat companies. They also work hard with the classes to encourage growth, and they do it well. It’s nice when really competent sailors understand that to make more sales, they need to grow the class; and to grow the class they need to sell more boats. I concede that their promotional materials are annoying as hell. The pictures are gorgeous (thanks, Joy), but every sixth word is trademarked, as if the industry is going to steal the “hands free kite™” phrase from them if they don’t stick those little letters next to the phrase. Aside from that, though, the guys from Zenda are top notch, and they make top notch boats. The booth was pretty much the same as it was last year, except for the “3DR” sails on the 32 that they had displayed. I have no idea what 3DR is. The modified Melges 17 looked like a blast. The hull was fair as hell, all the controls were really carefully thought out, and I have no doubt that the boats will perform just as the boys intended. There were some other cool boats on display, but in truth, they were older designs and just not all that interesting anymore unless you’re floating.
THE REST
I didn’t spend that much time checking it out, but I’d like to fill you all in on the highlights of the gear and other interesting exhibitors at the show. The hottest gear I found was the Karver K-blocks. As is the trend in light race blocks in general, these blocks use spectra lashings for attachments, but there is a difference: the lashings go around the center of the block so that if the block implodes, the lashing and the running line end up binding on each other. If you’re using them for runners or backstays, this could completely save the rig. Smart Stuff. Check it out at http://www.euromarinetrading.com/karver06.pdf. They look sexy as hell too. Antal had a complete display of mainsheet systems, travellers, and batten cars/mainsail slugs. We don’t see them much in the states, but Antal has their shit together. I’m not sure why it appealed so much to me. Maybe it’s because top-of-the-line Harken gear has become so common nowadays and like all guys, I like the strange, new stuff, and this gear is very good looking and functional. It should be, as they are the top supplier to the French ORMA Open 60 teams. Their mainsheet blocks are still working well despite being upside-down, under water and abandoned. Seriously, though-take a look at their line. If the prices are comparable you may find that they are a better solution than the norm. Anarchists and SA advertisers RBS Batten Systems had a big booth and they were selling battens and complete systems. We use their simple batten tensioners on the Melges (they are the easiest full batten tensioning system I’ve seen), and I spoke to the guys about the future of battens and high performance sailing. They explained that while their carbon battens are in high demand, a number of factors are going to price these super lightweight battens out of most sailor’s pockets if they’re not already there. Carbon has gotten very expensive recently due to various military groups buying massive quantities of it, and because of this RBS is focusing on their E-glass alternative. It’s all very high-tech, but I do know they work well and that RBS spends a lot of time hanging out with sailors to figure out what needs to be improved. They work through local sailmakers. We use solar Tack-Tick gear on the Melges, and it does what it’s supposed to. There are plenty of people, who have had problems with TackTick service, but their brand spanking new line of Micronet Maxi displays is very cool and I want it for my boat. The displays are really big, color changeable, and not that pricy. I couldn’t tell whether the housings are carbon or “faux” carbon, but they look good. To me, the real “must-have” in their line is the wind transmitter. Quite a few of us have had nightmares dealing with wiring that goes up to the wind instruments. The TackTick system has a solar powered windvane and speed sensor at the top of the mast. This sensor shoots signals down to the main receiver, which repeats the information to whatever displays you have. There’s an integrated remote as well. All this means that you can have accurate wind readings with no wiring at all going up the stick. The most annoying noise I’ve ever heard is that of wire conduit that comes loose from the inside of the mast. Every tiny swell forces the same soft “slap…slap…slap” against the mast’s interior wall. It is like fingernails on a blackboard and when you are sailing a thousand miles it bores through your brain. That experience will make the choice for my new boat easy. I want no wires in my mast, and TackTick is the only game in town. It would be nice if the modules would transmit on a frequency that would be useable by other machines (Bluetooth?), but sometimes you need to take what you can get. I was glad to see Aussie Brendon Casey, former laser radial world champ at the show. Not because I know him or anything, but because it seemed like he followed a wacky dream and created SeaGear, a line of dinghy clothing that looks very functional and totally affordable (www.sailequipment.com.au). Far too many fashion designers are working in foul weather gear nowadays, and Casey has produced a line of really utilitarian but good-looking sailor gear, including rash guards, spray tops, wetsuits, shorts, boots, and some bizarre combinations of the above. Check him out. University of Michigan’s Sailing Team and the University of Wisconsin were represented by a nice handful of fun college kids, most of them Anarchists. I’m sure they were drunk most of the weekend, and I applaud them for it. They are there to try to improve their programs and find money for new boats to compete with many of the well-funded East Coast schools. The teams had great attitudes, and we all should salute them, as they are the ones bringing new kids into the sport and making it exciting for the next generation, although they need to bring more hot college girls to the show next year. This is a reminder to all of you to donate to your schools sailing program; there you can actually support something you value while donating to your school and getting the Alumni “development” person off your back for a while. Those people are worse than the telemarketers calling to get you to change to Sprint. Another interesting concept from a guy who does a lot for us ocean-deprived Midwesterners is Destination One Design, launched by sailmaker, coach, and hired gun Wally Cross. Wally has set up a free website aimed straight at the biggest growth segment in racing: OD sailors. Wally aggregates and links racing news on his site just as everybody does, but he picks better stories than most and has no problems posting North articles even though he just left them to run the Quantum program in the Midwest. The site does some new things, one of the most useful being providing free podcasts of sailing stories. Since sailing in the US has basically no coverage anywhere in radio or television, it will be nice to load up some tactical seminars, interviews and what have you to listen to as I tow thousands of pounds of boat over mountain passes in the snow on my way to Key West. Check out his site and you’ll find some useful stuff, although after listening to the podcasts he’s got a learning curve ahead to get them really interesting. Wally has a Magnum P.I. mustache too, which is so dorky it ends up looking cool. The last exhibitor that I’ll mention is the Judd Goldman Sailing Foundation (www.juddgoldmansailing.org). This Chicago-based group makes it possible for hundreds of disabled people to go out and learn to sail. Many of their members are competitive in the 2.4mR class, and they have a bunch of boats in Chicago modified for the disabled. They need people to come out and sail with them, and next time I’m in Chi-town, I know I’ll spend a day on the water with these enthusiastic folks. As an added incentive, the girl running the booth, a highly competitive sailor with a prosthetic leg, was adorable, but my camera’s batteries were running low by the time I got to them. Lots of anarchists saw my badge and said hello. As I’ve been discovering around the country, a significant proportion of the racing community calls Sailing Anarchy home, and most of the people who talked to me recited a version of the same song, “I read the articles and I browse the forums, but I don’t post there.” You crazy anarchists are scaring everyone away, but anarchy is a state of chaos anyway, so that’s probably as it should be. Make it safe and it’s no longer interesting. Someone once told me that 10% of the sailors make 90% of the noise, and I’m proud to be a noisy bastard. I can summarize the weekend really simply: If you have no way of getting somewhere where it’s sunny, warm and windy, the Strictly Sail show is, well, something to do. It’s a poor substitute for actually being on a boat, but at least it’s a substitute. For a few hours, you can get your mind off of slush, sleet, ice, road salt, and darkness and focus on technora and dyneema, sportboats and skiffs, charter vacations and racing gear. You’re likely to find some of your friends looking at the same expensive crap you’re looking at, and there are bound to be some nice shiny carbon toys to play with and slick roller bearing, CNC machined wheels to spin and listen to the refreshing spinning noise. As an added incentive, every year the Chicago Yacht Club hosts the “Pink Pony” party, where they serve expensive drinks and have really bad live music. That’s hot. Count me in next year, please, unless someone has a fun sailing trip and they need a foredeck gorilla. I’ll look for an email Mr. Clean |
