By Dan Dyer
If I could name just three experiences on a short list of best things I’ve done in my life (so far!), the Newport Bermuda Race would be on that list. In my case, it helps the collective memory to have sailed 14 of the 100 Races to the Onion Patch, but each one has been so special I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Your first Bermuda Race is just amazing. You know you are racing with the yachts and sailing legends you have only read about. The planning and preparation seem endless, then suddenly you realize you are starting the race to Bermuda. Anticipation and caution take over as the Gulf Stream is approached. At times it seems you will never get across the Stream . . . but then you are on a beautiful reach, sailing over a transparent blue ocean with dolphins and Portuguese men-of-war for company, under a benign sky with only a few trade-wind clouds. Crossing the finish line at St. David’s Head and the ride to Hamilton are an entirely different excitement; all concern and anxiety for the offshore passage disappears, the anticipation is Bermuda itself; How did we finish? Who did we beat? and How many masts can we see at the RBYC?
Llwyd Ecclestone and I first raced to Bermuda in 1968 aboard Llwyd’s Bikini, a Little Harbor 48. We were thrilled with our 3rd in class behind Ted Hood aboard Robin, who was first and won the coveted Lighthouse Trophy. Each subsequent even year, the goal was to win the Lighthouse Trophy. Llwyd missed the Race several years while he was cruising the Pacific; I missed most of the’70s on a leisurely circumnavigation. As the rating rules changed, Llwyd built new yachts for comfortable and safe cruising and to win the Newport Bermuda Race: Runaway, Volcano and Kodiak.
Our preparations for the 1998 Race began the year before, like any other. A review of the rating and latest rule changes: how to optimize Kodiak for the expected conditions and not be negatively impacted when, surprise, the expected close reach to Bermuda didn’t materialize. The IMS rule appeared to penalize centerboards, so a keel shoe was designed and installed while Kodiak was wintering in the Caribbean. An oversize pole and spinnakers were considered but were voted thumbs down, as we were likely to be using a jib or reacher most of the way. Many hours were spent on fairing and sanding the bottom (a previous “miracle” paint had blistered and peeled off in strips -- not fast).
The flip side of the golden ducat of offshore racing is the unique camaraderie cemented in 24 hours a day at sea. Heavy weather, rigging and sail challenges, strategic decisions all contribute to the strong bonds developed over years of depending on and supporting your crewmates. Llwyd’s boats have always attracted great Corinthian crews, and many have sailed with Llwyd for decades: CCA members Peter Grimm, Karl von Schwarz, Art Burke, and Llwyd’s sons Llwyd and John have sailed many races.
Thirty years after our first Newport Bermuda Race, we accomplished our goal, winning the St. David’s Lighthouse Trophy. Llwyd and I had been focusing on strategy for the Race since the New Year -- or as we look at it -- for the three races: to the Stream, across the Stream, and to the finish. As the weather patterns and Gulf Stream became clearer in June, we formulated our plan: Sail to enter the Stream at a knuckle not far off the rhumb line, avoiding an eddy to the east, exit the Stream in a position to ride a cold eddy to the east and then approach Bermuda from east of the rhumb line.
The wind after the start was light and it seemed to take forever to get to the Stream, and when we arrived at our waypoint for entering the Stream, it wasn’t there. I took a fair amount of naviguesser abuse until we finally began to get a boost from the Stream, and our wind and conditions prevailed. We were off and broad reaching for Bermuda. The next morning the wind went light again and to the east, forcing us toward a dreaded cold eddy. We jibed to the east and held the port tack all day and night, getting almost 30 miles to the east of the rhumb line and outside of the fleet. A fax indicated that we were running down the western edge of a weak low, which gave us a slight edge over those to the west. Art Burke on the helm set the pace of sailing Kodiak like a dinghy, up for speed, then back down to make VMG for Bermuda. Soon after dawn Llwyd became concerned that we were too far east and jibed over to starboard. Starboard was max VMG for Bermuda on a perfect reach. The only bad part of the race was waiting almost two days to confirm that none of the smaller boats could save their time on Kodiak.
The opportunity to race to Bermuda should be, by most reckonings, a highlight of your life regardless of how you finish. The only thing more exciting than your first Newport Bermuda Race is to win the Race, so consider your first race as a step toward winning. Sail safe, have fun – and experience this legendary ocean race.