San Francisco's 'Three Bridge Fiasco' run by the San Francisco Bay Singlehanded Sailing Society at times resembles San Francisco's sometimes 'loopy' Bay to Breakers Race. A few serious racers mixed in with hordes of people just out for a good sailing parade. With an entry list of 365 boats it was truly a Bay sailing spectacle which, with our ongoing drought, was held in near perfect weather. It had everything but wind. None-the-less everyone started and many managed to eke out a path around the random three mark course to actually finish within the time limit. We did not.
The reverse-handicap race requires racers to cross a starting line at your assigned starting time, in the direction of your own choosing and round all three marks in any order you'd like. Since it's a double-handed race I had one crew, Tom Woolly, who agreed to brave the windless 70 degree temperatures and attempt to extract some race-winning speed to overcome the fleet and the three knot ebb. It was another lesson in setting lofty goals and being able to settle for something less. We started at 9:40AM and had until a time limit of 7pm to finish the 21 mile course. However, we agreed that if the wind was so light and progress still slow at about 1 or 2pm we'd likely bail out and get home to other projects. Turns out both conditions were met but the day was so beautiful, the scenery so pleasant and the tease of accomplishing just a portion of our objective seemed like a worthy though lessor goal to keep us on the water all day.
So we spent from 9:40am to 4pm battling the increasing ebb and waffling shifting breezes to sail to our first, poorly chosen and only mark of the day - Red Rock. With light airs and flat water we enjoyed moments of delusion where we thought we might be ahead and moments of reality when we knew we were well behind. It also allowed some time to relax, take some photos of the day and forget everything that we once felt was an important reason to get home at a reasonable hour. We did get around Red Rock and sailed home converting our Three Bridge Fiasco into a One Bridge Fiasco.
One of the great attractions of a low-key, somewhat whacky race is the spirit with which it's embraced. We were not the only boat to drop out and, as the day wore on the large fleet dwindled and listened to a steady stream of calls to the race committee on Channel 69 notifying them of their intention to drop out. Invariably the call went something like this, 'SSS Race Committee this is the sailing vessel 'Adrift', sail number 2262 we are withdrawing. Thank you for the race and a fantastic day on the water.' The race committee would reply, 'Sorry you have to withdraw but thanks for joining us and have a safe trip home.' Clear throughout call after call was the appreciation for the simple pleasure of 'just being out there' - regardless of conditions, results, rating rules, start times, windlines, tidelines, competitive urges and other mental entanglements that sometimes blur pleasure of the day.
The Three-Bridge-Fiasco has developed an almost cult-like following drawing a huge, ecclectic crowd which appreciates the day regardless of the outcome. I still would have loved to complete the whole course and really would have loved to have won the whole darn thing but happy to look forward to starting another one with the same high hopes and would happily accept the same result. Once again, just happy to be out there. Thanks SSS.
Pointing the camera this way we could feel way far behind - and that island 'Red Rock' appeared an unattainable destination.
Pointing the camera this way we could feel way far ahead.
There were times when we felt like we were right in the thick of the battle.
It was such a 'Fiasco' we felt fortunate just to keep the spinnaker off the forestay and see a bubble or two drift by.
It seemed like you've have to move mountains to make your boat move. Since all these boats are trying to go downwind against an ebb it may be that the spinnakers were kept full by the reverse motion of the boat going backwards in the current!
Without much wind to give you steerage way you had to hope the ships avoided you. One more lucky miss!
Big cats and small monohulls and everthing in between took to the Bay to enjoy the drought weather while we all pray for rain (preferable M-F).
At this pace you could be neighbors for quite a while.
Behind the curtain there was a J/70 hiding.
Yes, there was breeze at times.
It was already 2pm and we knew it would be hard to finish but how could we pack up and go at a moment like this?
Keeping a sharp look out Tom assured me everything was under control.
In the end, for us, both the Bay Bridge and the Golden Gate Bridge turned out to be 'A Bridge Too Far.' Next year - same course but maybe wind and a wiser strategy. TBD.
