Early on in my offshore sailing career, I discovered something that has been driven home repeatedly in the ensuing years: At sea, many miles and days from the solid comforts of terra firma, a person’s true character is revealed. It’s not always pretty. On a small boat of defined length, the opportunity to take even a short walk to push the reset button is unavailable. It’s definitely rare, but I’ve certainly encountered my fair share of stifling bores, outright slobs and dangerous clowns. (No doubt, of course, that some of them would say the same of me.)

Why bring all this up? Because I was recently reminded that it makes me really appreciate one of my favorite dudes with whom to set sail, a Renaissance man of sorts from Seattle named Dave Logan.

Together, Logan and I have put a lot of water in our collective wake, well over 30,000 nautical miles. One of our earliest adventures was the 2005 Transpac from Los Angeles to Honolulu aboard our mutual friend Mark Schrader’s Cal 40, Dancing Bear. An incident at the very end, screaming past Diamond Head at double-digit boatspeed with the spinnaker up, sort of speaks to our respective temperaments.

As we bore down on the finish line, I started to panic at the tiller when we couldn’t douse the spinnaker. “Cut the sheet!” I screamed. That is when Logan casually climbed the forestay and tripped the sheet with his marlinspike, immediately defusing the situation. No damage, no worries. I could feel my face go red; my heartbeat immediately settled back into its usual rhythm. “Thanks bro,” was about all I could manage.

Read More from Herb McCormick: And The US Sailing Capital Is?

But our major voyage was a 28,000-mile circumnavigation of North and South America via the Northwest Passage and Cape Horn on a 64-foot steel cutter called Ocean Watch. Logan served as the first mate/engineer, and we shared the same watch the entire journey, through calms, gales, ice, snow—the whole shooting match. Logan likes to cast himself as the silent, stoic type, and we were 18,000 miles and seven months into the trip when we rounded the Horn. Suddenly, standing on the foredeck with my pal, we were both overcome with emotion. “I didn’t think I was going to feel this way,” he blubbered.

“Me neither,” I sputtered.

It was my favorite moment of the best sailing day of my life.

This passage down memory river was triggered last March, when Logan showed up for a Florida family vacation, and I invited him for a sail aboard my Pearson 365, August West, on Sarasota Bay. Logan has always raised an eyebrow at my rather liberal-arts approach to mechanics and maintenance, and I could almost hear the gears in his brain grinding as he cast a critical glance around my deck as we were getting underway. “That backstay could really use tightening,” he said, among other observations, and I felt like a kindergartner getting scolded by his teacher. But, of course, he was right.

And then we went sailing. There was zippo breeze at the outset, and I feared we were in for a drifter. But a northerly filled in soon after, and I literally couldn’t get Logan off the wheel. As always, his pure joy being aboard a sailboat gurgling to weather was infectious. We might as well have been back off the coast of South America, cracking jokes, calling puffs, just enjoying the hell out of the entire situation. It was terrific.

It also reminded me, yet again, that when you go to sea, some of the shipmates you encounter may be some of the worst. But also true, and why you keep going back, is this: A few of the souls you meet along the way are some of the best.  

The post Reflections on Offshore Sailing appeared first on Yachting.

Royal Huisman in the Netherlands continues to make its mark on the superyacht world by building some of the most ambitious private vessels afloat. The shipyard just announced a contract to construct Project 411, which is a 264-foot sailing yacht with the code name Noir. The yacht will be a Malcolm McKeon design with what will reportedly be the world’s tallest sloop rig, at 305 feet high.

McKeon is known for contemporary styling, having also worked on the 195-foot sailing yacht Sarissa that Royal Huisman delivered in 2023. Noir will have a reverse bow, a flybridge, foldout platforms, and what Royal Huisman calls “large areas of glass.” The deck gear and all the windows will be black, according to the shipyard.

The owner’s specifications call for space to bring along a 45-foot tender, allowing the owner and guests to explore coastlines and to transport provisions from shore without having to reposition the yacht closer to any harbor.

Royal Huisman says construction of Noir will be entirely aluminum, with electric-drive auxiliary power. The mast, boom and integrated sailing system will all be from Rondal.

According to the shipyard, Noir will be among the world’s 10 largest sailing yachts, with her air draft exceeding the current tallest rig by about 14 feet.

“We are very pleased to be building again at Royal Huisman,” McKeon stated in a press release, adding that having built the award-winning Sarissa there, “ we are well acquainted with the shipyard’s engineering skills, innovations and the level of craftsmanship.”

Less information is being revealed about plans for the interior layout and décor aboard Noir, but GCA Architects of Barcelona, Spain, is involved in the design. That firm is also known for a contemporary approach, having worked on Spain’s first “smart” building and the world’s first platinum-certified LEED structure.

Designer Josep [KK1] Juanpere Miret, in the same press release, said the interior aboard Noir will complement the contemporary exterior styling, and will mix woods, natural materials and textures for a relaxed yet luxurious atmosphere.

In other big-sail Royal Huisman news: The 265-foot Sea Eagle, launched in 2020, just joined the charter fleet at Y.CO. It’s headed to the South Pacific this summer, with itineraries possible to book in French Polynesia and Fiji. The yacht then will have charter availability in New Zealand during the Christmas and New Year’s holidays. The crew includes two scuba instructors for making the most of the underwater sights.

Take the next step: click over to royalhuisman.com for the new build, or to y.co for charter.

The post Royal Huisman to Build 264-Foot “Noir” appeared first on Yachting.

It was a breezy fall afternoon on Chesapeake Bay, a perfect day for a sail, and I felt fortunate to have been invited out for a spin on Gary Jobson’s C.W. Hood 32, Whirlwind. Jobson—an America’s Cup winner and a member of the National Sailing Hall of Fame—keeps his boat on a hoist near his backyard in Annapolis, Maryland. As the director of Cruising World magazine’s Boat of the Year contest, I was in town for the annual Annapolis Sailboat Show and a week of boat tests. I’ve spent a lot of time on the bay in recent years and have come to know and appreciate it.

My Annapolis pals, however, never fail to remind me that their waterfront city has been called “the sailing capital of the United States.” Which, not coincidentally, is the exact same moniker that’s been applied to my very own hometown of Newport, Rhode Island. As we raised Whirlwind’s sails, I pondered the question of which town deserved the title. Only one can wear the crown, right?

Both cities began their existence in the 17th century, largely as shipping ports. The US Naval Academy is located in Annapolis, while the Navy’s North Atlantic fleet called Newport home for several decades, and the naval base remains a major local fixture. Historically, you could make the argument either way, so we’ll call that a toss-up.

Geographically, when it comes to the adjacent waters, I have a strong bias toward Newport. The Chesapeake features some excellent nearby cruising grounds, particularly along the Eastern Shore. But for me, it doesn’t match up to the neighboring Elizabeth Islands of Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket, with Maine just an overnight sail away. The Chesapeake is shallow and really doesn’t hold a candle to Narragansett Bay and the deep blue Atlantic lapping Newport’s shores. Advantage: Newport.

One thing you don’t get in Newport, however, is the abundance of rivers and creeks that you have in Annapolis to moor a boat, so many of them right along the waterfront. And there are certainly far more options when it comes to marinas and facilities. The nod goes to Annapolis here.

As a destination in and of itself, thanks to that deep water, Newport attracts huge numbers of amazing yachts, from modest cruisers to multimillion-dollar superyachts. The America’s Cup was contested there, and the town remains home to many of the classic old 12 Meters. But Annapolis is every bit as attractive as a tourist spot, and the sailboat show each fall is easily the country’s best. Flip a coin on this one.

As far as actual sailing, the southwesterly sea breeze that fills in off Newport nearly every summer day is steady, wonderful, and hard to beat. There’s plenty of sailboat racing; the New York Yacht Club’s Newport station is an amazing, iconic landmark, and there are plenty of dedicated sailors. But I have to admit, the Annapolis Yacht Club, rebuilt after a devastating fire, is every bit as dynamic as the NYYC. I don’t have hard numbers at my disposal, but my overall take on participation leans toward Annapolis. I see plenty of moored boats in Newport that never seem to go anywhere. The weekly yacht racing out of Annapolis blows Newport away on that front.

So where, exactly, does that leave us? As Jobson and I doused the sails on Whirlwind after a cracking great sail, my fondness for Annapolis was sealed. Sure, for its homegrown passion, let’s call it the sailing capital. But I think that we can still dub Newport the nation’s yachting capital, with the grandness that title suggests. And yes, I’m waffling. What’s that saying about having your cake and eating it too?  

The post And The US Sailing Capital Is? appeared first on Yachting.

On the blacktop of a boatyard adjacent to the bustling harbor of Anacortes, Washington, a warhorse of a 1970s-era racing yacht is stripped down and propped up, and is clearly in the throes of a keel-to-masthead reincarnation. The boat’s name is Improbable, which is fitting, because that also described the chances I’d run into an old sailing friend named Bruce Schwab when I arrived in the Pacific Northwest last summer to hop on a cruising boat headed north. Improbable is Schwab’s boat and the object of his current labor of love, and the entire story borders on the unlikely and implausible—which is why it’s pretty cool.

Schwab, a self-confessed “certified boat bum and sailing nut,” is also an accomplished sailor who has twice raced alone around the world and was the first American to successfully compete in the nonstop Vendée Globe in 2004-05. These days, he runs a business fitting out systems for onboard energy management and charging. It’s called OceanPlanet Energy, and it’s in Maine—which is why it was, well, improbable when I ran into him at a taco joint in Anacortes. After he invited me to come look at his latest project, the tale got stranger still; Improbable was a big reason he fell hard for the sport.

Designed by Gary Mull, the lean 42-footer was built of cold-molded kauri, a New Zealand wood renowned for its lightweight and superior strength. Schwab’s dad bought the boat in 1976, when Schwab was 16 years old, and he spent his teenage years campaigning the boat with his family and friends. Mull was a highly respected naval architect based out of California’s Bay Area, where he had almost a cult following among the local sailors. And Improbable, created and built to excel in long, downwind races like the ones to Hawaii, did extremely well in the old IOR measurement rule, which was the premier rating system of the day. It all laid the groundwork for Schwab’s long and successful career as a professional rigger and sailor.

Read More from Herb McCormick: Cruising Haida Gwaii

Improbable remained in the family all that time, but, when Schwab inherited the boat several years ago, it had largely fallen into a state of disrepair. As he sailed the boat from Northern California to Anacortes, where he had some local connections, the idea was to find it a new home. “I’ve done six races to Hawaii, four trans-Atlantic races, the ’round-the-world stuff, and I was thinking I’ve done enough sailing,” he said. “I thought I was over it. But on that trip north, it all flashed back. I remembered how much I liked the boat. And I wanted to know how it would feel if it was modernized. I have a vision for what it could be. And I just can’t let it go.”

So, he’s bringing Improbable back to fighting trim. He found an excellent carbon-fiber mast from a Farr 40, and he reckons there are some good used sails from that class that will also work well on this project. He’s completely reconfiguring the boat’s rudder, which, he says with a laugh, is a project he started when he was a teenager. The entire deck layout will be transformed with the latest and best go-fast hardware. Lithium batteries and solar panels will completely transform the systems technology. He’s doing it all slowly but surely, making regular commutes from the East Coast to the West Coast, as time allows.

Today, almost five decades after first stepping aboard the boat, Schwab is preparing, once again, to hoist sail, set the kite and haul the mail. Hawaii beckons. Perhaps a new generation will feel the thrill, pass the torch. Improbable? With this boat, it’s safe to say, probably not.  

The post The Family Sailboat appeared first on Yachting.

After a fortnight underway and with 500 rugged nautical miles in our wake, in late June, our Cal 40, Dancing Bear, nudged up to the dock in the little British Columbian burg of Daajing Giids, formerly known as Queen Charlotte City. I tossed our dock lines to a helpful young man named Max, who’d scrambled over from his little cruising sailboat to help us tie up. On the pier, Max was boiling up a potful of crab. He even had some butter, garlic and saffron sauteing alongside. The aroma was mesmerizing.

We’d just completed a winding cruise from Anacortes, Washington, through the remote archipelago of Haida Gwaii (the former Queen Charlotte Islands), the last week of which was in true wilderness, where we’d shared the protected cruising grounds and nature preserve with whales, eagles, bears, sea otters, Sitka deer, elk, racoons and assorted other creatures, none of whom were humans. In fact, we hadn’t encountered a single other soul the entire week. Daajing Giids, the one-time queen of this region, has a population of around a mere 1,000 folks, but it somehow seemed more frantic than Manhattan. I was scheduled to fly out of the nearby airfield in Skidegate the next afternoon, so I would basically be in “the queen” for a day.

During my years of cruising and racing sailboats offshore, I’ve wrapped up many a voyage in countless exotic ports of call, but I’m not sure any were quite as fetching as funky Daajing Giids. It had me from the get-go. Moments after docking, a huge roar emanated from up the hill, where the crowd at a kids baseball game apparently had much to cheer about. I’ve been in Boston’s Fenway Park for a Red Sox game with less-enthusiastic fans.

Haida Gwaii is an overnight hop from the British Columbia coastline, just far enough to deter many cruising boats from visiting, as most opt to continue up the Inside Passage to Alaska. But it’s definitely worth the effort. And the half-dozen yachts in the anchorage were surely a salty mix, consisting of a handful of expedition-style metal boats and a ketch-rigged Amel Super Maramu flying a French flag.

Read More from Herb McCormick: Silent Running

Likewise, in the little yacht basin, there was a mix of well-used fishing craft and an equal number of well-traveled cruising boats, including a couple of full-keeled Bristol Channel Cutters and even a replica of French solo sailor Bernard Moitessier’s famous Joshua. Plenty of folks were living aboard.

Over in the nearby shallows, a tidal grid had been erected so boats could come alongside and complete a quick bottom job on the deep ebb. It had been quite a while since I’d seen one of those. And, I have to say, the fresh salmon and black cod fillets at the little waterfront pub were perhaps the tastiest I’d ever had.

Fortuitously, we’d arrived the day before the national celebration of Canada Day on July 1, and it was a pleasure to be in such a friendly place. As we were walking up the dock, a passing mariner asked how I was doing. “Great,” I said. “I mean, I’m in one of the greatest countries in the world.”

“I agree,” he replied. “And we’re privileged to have you guys as our neighbor.” Heavens, if only the entire world were so pleasant and agreeable.

The next day, I hopped a ferry over to Skidegate and caught my hourlong flight to Vancouver, then my connection home. As we lifted off and wheeled overhead, I got one final glimpse of the old Queen City. It had been a quick visit but a splendid place to wrap up an adventure. I hope to make it back sometime.

The post Cruising Haida Gwaii appeared first on Yachting.

Forty years ago this past September, in the waters of Rhode Island Sound just off the coastal city of Newport, a crew of Aussies shocked the sailing world. The 12 Metre Australia II defeated the American boat Liberty to win the 1983 America’s Cup and bring the New York Yacht Club’s 132-year defense of the Auld Mug to a conclusion. It’s safe to say the Cup, and my hometown of Newport, have never been the same.

I spent a lot of time on the sound that summer taking in the action, so when I signed up to volunteer on a marshal boat for the latest edition of the 12 Metre World Championship regatta in August, I found myself on the very same waters, which turned into a pretty nostalgic voyage down a nautical memory lane. But the graceful Twelve I couldn’t take my eyes off wasn’t the winner of the Modern Division, Challenge XII, or even the victor of the Traditional/Vintage Division, Columbia. Nope, I was more or less transfixed on the runner-up to Challenge XII, a striking-blue yacht called Freedom. Of all the entries in the 10-boat fleet, to me, Freedom was easily the most historic and memorable.

Three years before the Australians absconded with the Cup, in 1980, with the estimable Dennis Conner in command, Freedom won the contest in dominant fashion, and it seemed like the New York Yacht Club’s winning streak would go on forever. It was designed by the legendary naval architecture firm Sparkman & Stephens, which had drawn the lines of every Cup winner but one since 1936. Conner was back on the helm in the losing effort in ’83, but he would find redemption, winning the Cup back for the United States in Western Australia in 1987. But for S&S, Freedom marked the end of an illustrious era. The firm would never again create a Cup winner.

For the 12 Metre Worlds, ironically enough, the navigator aboard Freedom was a lanky old Aussie mate of mine called Grant Simmer, who’d served in the same capacity aboard Australia II for his country’s winning effort way back when. With the exception of the gray hair, he looked exactly the same.

This time, however, Simmer couldn’t work his magic. Unlike the America’s Cup, where boats compete in one-on-one match racing, the World Championship event is fleet racing, with everyone out on the track at the same time. It’s a different game. And Challenge XII had a ringer of its own: the president of North Sails, Ken Read, also a longtime America’s Cup veteran. As far as I was concerned, Freedom was easily the prettiest of all the Modern yachts. When push came to shove, though, it was no longer the fastest.

Today’s America’s Cup competition, conducted on closed-course race tracks in skittish foiling catamarans—about as far removed as possible from a stately 12 Metre racing in the open ocean—bears little resemblance to what the event looked like in the early 1980s. And Newport has undergone a radical makeover as well. The shipyards where the Cup boats used to reside between races have been replaced by condos and hotels, and the only real remaining trace of the America’s Cup is the boulevard of the same name. It’s a reminder that the only true constant in life is change.

But for a few afternoons last August, I could shut my eyes for a moment of reminiscence and open them up to see what I can only describe as a fleeting image of a bygone time. Freedom may be a footnote in the history of yacht racing, but the big, beautiful blue boat still looks powerful and fantastic all the same.

The post Reminiscing “Freedom”: a 12 Metre Classic appeared first on Yachting.

“This yacht is going to turn some heads wherever she is, but particularly at the Bucket.”

So says Jim Pugh, co-founder of Reichel/Pugh Yacht Design in San Diego, one of the driving forces behind the 154-foot Nilaya that Royal Huisman built in the Netherlands. The yacht was delivered to its owners in June. It spent the summer in the Mediterranean “tuning up for racing,” according to the shipyard, and has now crossed the Atlantic. Nilaya arrived in Antigua in December—with about three months to prepare for the March 2024 St. Barths Bucket Regatta.

The fast Atlantic crossing, according to Royal Huisman, “gave her owner and pro race team captain Bouwe Bekking and skipper Romke Loopik plenty of all-conditions experience at the helm.” There are already 10,000 nautical miles under the yacht’s keel.

The owner says his previous yacht, a 112-foot Baltic, won many regattas during the 12 years he owned it, but for this Nilaya, he instructed the yard and designers to create “a fast yacht that can win in a superyacht regatta.”

To that end, Royal Huisman says it built Nilaya using European Space Agency methodology. Nilaya is an aluminum-carbon hybrid designed with finite element analysis to direct the right material, or combination of materials, and the right thicknesses of those materials to handle the exact stresses in every part of the hull and deck.

For its part, Reichel/Pugh analyzed 10 years of historical wave data from the Eastern Caribbean and Greece, ultimately testing 12 models before developing the final hull shape.

Royal Huisman’s sister company Rondal was brought in for carbon-fiber expertise. As just one example of Rondal’s contributions, it supplied a runner arrangement that reportedly saves 2,646 pounds of weight, keeping the yacht lighter for racing.

Racing pedigree aside, this yacht also has plenty of luxurious creature comforts, with Italian studio Nauta Design collaborating on the project ( Nilaya is the largest sailing yacht Nauta has completed). And yet, even with the interior, light weight for racing was top of mind. Some of the bulkheads and door frames are carbon. Instead of heavy insulation to reduce noise and vibration, Royal Huisman developed composite panels made of cork, foam, honeycomb and other materials.

According to Royal Huisman, Nilaya is “arguably the most advanced sailing yacht” the shipyard has ever delivered.

“Royal Huisman was not afraid to invest in research to explore and develop all manner of innovative weight-saving possibilities,” said the owners’ project manager, Nigel Ingram of MCM Newport. “They really chased the details.”

And now, we all shall see if Nilaya leaves other yachts chasing its transom on the regatta circuit.

How long did it take to create Nilaya? Three years, including one year of preparation and two years under construction.

Take the next step: go to royalhuisman.com

The post Superyacht Smack Talk appeared first on Yachting.

You never forget your best day of sailing. Mine came in the waning miles of the 2005 Transpac Race from Los Angeles to Honolulu, screeching down the Molokai Channel under spinnaker toward Diamond Head in 30 knots of pumping trade-wind breeze, hanging onto the tiller for dear, lovely life while surfing at 14 knots aboard a Cal 40 called Dancing Bear. The sun was searing, the wind was howling, and the deep, blue Pacific Ocean was all the more striking set against the stunning backdrop of the green volcanic islands.

This remembrance, however, is not about me. Instead, it honors the legendary Cal 40, a William Lapworth design originally launched in Southern California in 1963 that has provided scores of fellow offshore sailors with rides they’ll always hold dear. Though I do recall my first thoughts to a fellow shipmate soon after crossing the finish line: “God, I love a boat that’s better than I am.”

All this came back to me last summer, when I joined Dancing Bear’s owner and skipper, accomplished Pacific Northwest sailor Mark Schrader, for a cruise northward from Anacortes, Washington, and up the coast of Vancouver Island. It’s a far different venue and excursion than the Transpac, but one that made me appreciate the Cal 40 in a new light. This is one versatile vessel.

From the outset, the Cal 40 was considered a radical, ultra-light design, displacing just 15,000 pounds with 6,000 pounds of ballast and a flat, canoe-shaped hull that was ideal for prolonged downwind surfs. What really separated it from other boats of its era—hulls with long overhangs and deep, full keels from prominent East Coast yacht designers like Sparkman & Stephens—was the fin keel and detached spade rudder, greatly reducing the boat’s wetted surface. A similar appendage was employed in the winning America’s Cup 12-Metre Intrepid, but that was four years later.

Read Next: An Ocean Sailor Tries Freshwater Racing

The Cal 40’s production run lasted eight years and produced 108 boats, which are still highly sought-after. There’s no question that the boat has reached cult status and that it remains highly competitive. Indeed, the overall winner of the 108-boat fleet in the 2022 Newport Bermuda Race and the recipient of the coveted St. David’s Lighthouse Trophy was Sally and Stan Honey’s Cal 40, Illusion.

Yes, the Honeys are world-class sailors—Stan is a renowned professional offshore racer and navigator, and Sally is a two-time Rolex Yachtswoman of the Year—and they recruited an all-star crew after Illusion had undergone a full refit. Still, Illusion was almost 60 years old. The Honeys purchased the boat in 1988 and spent the ensuing decades racing and cruising it. They decided to campaign it one final time in 2022. Their victorious attempt, covering the 635-nautical-mile voyage in 87 hours, included a textbook crossing of the Gulf Stream and a top-speed burst of 22 knots, both of which were winning highlights.

My own trip last summer on Dancing Bear was a decidedly more mellow affair, but we also scored our own personal highlights. For me, one of those was taking the helm on a cold, funky overnight passage from the coast of British Columbia across the Hecate Strait to the archipelago known as Haida Gwaii, formerly the Queen Charlotte Islands. The sensation of driving a solid craft offshore, nestled deep in the cockpit on a tiller-steered boat, is rare and wonderful. In the wind and waves, everything balanced and in harmony, I fell in love with the Cal 40 all over again.

The post Revisiting the Classic Cal 40 appeared first on Yachting.

Contest Yachts has collaborated with Bentley Home to create a 67CS, whose interior is inspired by the look of Bentley Motors.

The Bentley team brought its experience from working with vehicles such as the Continental GT and the Bentayga. Contest Yachts combined those talents with its own interior designers, Wetzels Brown Partners, to create the interior aboard this custom 67CS.

“Prototyping methods such as 3D printing were harnessed to confirm the feasibility of individual components, extending to a full mock-up of items prior to fit-out, such as the bar and vanity unit created from scratch to the customer’s taste, to ensure the exacting finishes and demanding quality standards were met,” according to Contest Yachts.

Bentley’s diamond-quilted leather hides were book-matched across the yacht’s interior, with detailing that included the type of hand cross-stitching used to produce the Bentley steering wheel.

Contest Yachts CEO Arjen Conijn says it’s possible the builder could add a dedicated line of Bentley-featured yachts: “We hold so many of the same beliefs and ambitions; it totally makes sense bringing our two fantastic ranges of prestigious luxury yachts and autos together.”

Where is Contest Yachts located? In the Netherlands. The brand builds semicustom sailing cruisers for coastal, offshore and bluewater use.

Take the next step: go to contestyachts.com

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Come wintertime, the upper regions of New York state are susceptible to a phenomenon known as lake-effect snow. It happens when cold Canadian air courses over the relatively warm Great Lakes, and the atmospheric merger of the two can produce snowfalls ranging from dustings to blizzards.

Last spring, I experienced a different sort of lake effect, one that afflicts ocean sailors who test their skills on rarely visited inland waters. This happened when I joined my J/24 racing mates from Newport, Rhode Island, for a jaunt northward to New York’s serene and scenic Lake George for the one-design class’s US National Championship regatta.

While doing our homework for the racing, I came across an interview with the event chair, local sailor Alfie Merchant, on Sail-World.com that was somewhat surprising. “Lake George is a special place,” he said. “I do not believe people come here for the great sailing. The wind will probably be from the west straight over the mountains about a quarter mile away and 1,000 vertical feet. It will be very fluky in terms of direction and strength. It is Lake George, so we will be lucky to get three races in over three days, but 10 races are max for the series. Visitors call Lake George Left George. Guess why. Because the local knowledge is to go left no matter where the wind comes from.”

Wait, the event chair says people don’t come for the great sailing? From a guy promoting the allure of his own regatta, that was unexpected.

With that, the racing commenced. And the first day was a shocker from the outset. On J/24s, the major “sails call” is whether to race with the full-size genoa or the smaller jib. It’s usually a no-brainer; the larger genoa is almost always the correct way to go. But with the north wind hovering around 20 knots, there was no clear-cut answer. We started with the genoa, but changed to the jib midway through the first race. And, once again, in the second. And the third. I’ve done ocean races, it seemed, with fewer sail changes.

But Lake George was in a feisty mood: On Day 1 alone, there was an unheard-of six man-overboard situations. While everyone was recovered safely, it was a wild day. And the race committee knocked off four races. So much for the event chair’s three-race prediction.

Aboard our entry, Crack of Noon, it was an uneven series. We started strong, faltered in the middle of the seven-race series and finished right in the middle of the 43-boat fleet. The winner, North Sails pro Mike Marshall, sails in our local Newport fleet, so there was mild vindication there. At least someone from Newport figured out the lake.

Otherwise, it was a tremendous regatta. The competition was tight, and the racing was clean and fun. The host, Lake George Club, was friendly and efficient, and did a great job on the water and with the shore-side parties. The venue was terrific; the lush, green Adirondack Mountains rimming the lake were a beautiful backdrop, so different from our usual racetrack on Narragansett Bay. And while we did indeed take the local knowledge to heart, favoring the left whenever possible, the beneficial wind shifts all seemed to fill in from the right. So much for Left George.

All in all, however, it was a fantastic experience and one we’d return to anytime. As it turned out, we did indeed come for the sailing, which was challenging and exciting. And while we never did effectively figure out Lake George, it was pretty darn good all the same.

The post An Ocean Sailor Tries Freshwater Racing appeared first on Yachting.