For the first time since 2019, the Swiftsure Yacht race took place out of Victoria, BC over Memorial Day weekend. For those unfamiliar, it consists primarily of the "Four Long Courses", which are four challenging distance races various ways down, and out of, the Strait of Juan de Fuca.
Two Ericsons participated in the Juan de Fuca course race -- my boat, Delightful, a 32-3, and Aja, a 35-2. Of note, Aja had also just completed the PNW Offshore Race from the Columbia River Bar to Port Angeles a few weeks prior. Interestingly, I rate a 174 under PHRF and the 35-2 rates 171 despite being a bit longer -- interesting to see the ways the mk2 to mk3 hull designs improved performance despite LOA.
This was my second-ever Swiftsure but the first and only one my boat has ever done, to my knowledge. My crew consisted of my tactician who would be completing his 17th Swiftsure this year, and the rest of the crew made up of my liveaboard friends, partner, and other sailing friends. There was 6 of us total, which feels like a lot for how few jobs my boat has (simple to sail without a pole!)
The Juan de Fuca course is a 70+ mile course from Victoria, around a virtual mark in Clallam Bay, and back to Victoria. The race is colloquially known as "Driftsure" due to frequently resulting in a multi-day float fest, dealing with strong adverse currents, resulting in early retirement for a lot of the boats. In the only other Swiftsure I did in 2019, something like 90% of the boats retired due to lack of winds and miserable conditions.
This race, however was a great one. All wind forecasts showed light Easterlies to no wind on Saturday building to 20-30kts from the west on Saturday night through Sunday. This being my first Swiftsure on my own boat, and my crew being made of one super-experienced tactician but other first-timers for a race like this, I was a little nervous about the bulk of the race occurring in a big blow overnight. Additionally, the current was scheduled to be opposing basically the entire time - against us going out, against us coming back.
Fortunately, however, there was enough wind at the start to get all the boats across the line in a reasonable time despite a building flood. One big strategy decision is whether to go outside or inside Race Rocks on your path inbound/outbound. Going inside cuts 3 miles or so off the course, but the current flips strongly there and many a boat have found themselves without wind, facing strong currents, and forced to anchor to not lose ground while waiting for a zephyr or two to carry them along.
My team carried our A1.5 watermelon kite out around the outside of Race Rocks and reached out along the Canadian shoreline in 7-8 kts of breeze, until we started trying to work our way deeper to get across the Strait to the American shoreline. Boats that went inside the Rocks ended up winning out on that tactical decision, but we similarly avoided some holes that formed in the wind along the Canadian shoreline by taking an early dip towards the US.
As we reached the shore, boats in front of us could be seen swapping to headsails as the forecasted westerly filled in almost exactly to the minute. We dropped the watermelon and rolled out the headsail, beating to the mark just in time for a gorgeous sunset to mark the end of our outbound trip, and the shift to the weird, edgy, anxious and exhilarating experience of night sailing.
Unfortunately I don't have a kite robust enough to handle downwind conditions like we faced, so we put a reef in the main and furled up some headsail to jib reach back down the strait towards Victoria. The all-day ebb against the strong westerly made some gnarly sea state, however, and driving became very active to keep the boat on course. As has been previously noted, our boats lifted and narrow sterns make us pretty rolly in a seaway, so managing the forward/backward of the apparent wind while going up and down big waves is a demanding task.
Night sailing in a race like this is a crazy experience. It was pitch dark except for the miragelike bobbing of running lights and stern lights, often wondering if a boat was coming towards us on a collision course or moving away towards safety. One time a cruise ship rolled by and illuminated the silhouette of a boat very near to us, which was a surreal experience. My forward running lights died during this time, requiring multiple tethered-in trips to the bow with my laying stomach over the pulpit, trying to keep all the parts and screws together while getting slammed around by waves. I thought about replacing that piece before the race and definitely regretted not doing it...
The rest of the night was a bumpy blur. Lots of steering up and down waves, trying to stay conscious - I ended up passing out for my only hour and a half of sleep of the whole race, before getting woken to drive the boat through Race Rocks and through the finish on the final way in. We ended up finishing about 5AM on Sunday, a bit longer than 19 hours total - pretty quick for a race that can go as late as 1AM on Monday night.
We hit the dock, passed safety inspection, got our free bowl of hot(ish) soup, and I handed the boat to two of the crew to deliver home. They departed immediately to make the tides, while the rest of us wandered Victoria in a sleep-deprived haze, waiting for our ferry to take us home. I think we all slept at least 10-12 hours on Sunday night.
I would absolutely do it again! My boat felt a bit noncompetitive against the class made of two Dufour 335s, and longer Beneteaus and a Jenneau, but I think with good tactics, a symmetrical kite that could stand up to high winds, and some grit, we could place top half of the fleet for sure.
Two Ericsons participated in the Juan de Fuca course race -- my boat, Delightful, a 32-3, and Aja, a 35-2. Of note, Aja had also just completed the PNW Offshore Race from the Columbia River Bar to Port Angeles a few weeks prior. Interestingly, I rate a 174 under PHRF and the 35-2 rates 171 despite being a bit longer -- interesting to see the ways the mk2 to mk3 hull designs improved performance despite LOA.
This was my second-ever Swiftsure but the first and only one my boat has ever done, to my knowledge. My crew consisted of my tactician who would be completing his 17th Swiftsure this year, and the rest of the crew made up of my liveaboard friends, partner, and other sailing friends. There was 6 of us total, which feels like a lot for how few jobs my boat has (simple to sail without a pole!)
The Juan de Fuca course is a 70+ mile course from Victoria, around a virtual mark in Clallam Bay, and back to Victoria. The race is colloquially known as "Driftsure" due to frequently resulting in a multi-day float fest, dealing with strong adverse currents, resulting in early retirement for a lot of the boats. In the only other Swiftsure I did in 2019, something like 90% of the boats retired due to lack of winds and miserable conditions.
This race, however was a great one. All wind forecasts showed light Easterlies to no wind on Saturday building to 20-30kts from the west on Saturday night through Sunday. This being my first Swiftsure on my own boat, and my crew being made of one super-experienced tactician but other first-timers for a race like this, I was a little nervous about the bulk of the race occurring in a big blow overnight. Additionally, the current was scheduled to be opposing basically the entire time - against us going out, against us coming back.
Fortunately, however, there was enough wind at the start to get all the boats across the line in a reasonable time despite a building flood. One big strategy decision is whether to go outside or inside Race Rocks on your path inbound/outbound. Going inside cuts 3 miles or so off the course, but the current flips strongly there and many a boat have found themselves without wind, facing strong currents, and forced to anchor to not lose ground while waiting for a zephyr or two to carry them along.
My team carried our A1.5 watermelon kite out around the outside of Race Rocks and reached out along the Canadian shoreline in 7-8 kts of breeze, until we started trying to work our way deeper to get across the Strait to the American shoreline. Boats that went inside the Rocks ended up winning out on that tactical decision, but we similarly avoided some holes that formed in the wind along the Canadian shoreline by taking an early dip towards the US.
As we reached the shore, boats in front of us could be seen swapping to headsails as the forecasted westerly filled in almost exactly to the minute. We dropped the watermelon and rolled out the headsail, beating to the mark just in time for a gorgeous sunset to mark the end of our outbound trip, and the shift to the weird, edgy, anxious and exhilarating experience of night sailing.
Unfortunately I don't have a kite robust enough to handle downwind conditions like we faced, so we put a reef in the main and furled up some headsail to jib reach back down the strait towards Victoria. The all-day ebb against the strong westerly made some gnarly sea state, however, and driving became very active to keep the boat on course. As has been previously noted, our boats lifted and narrow sterns make us pretty rolly in a seaway, so managing the forward/backward of the apparent wind while going up and down big waves is a demanding task.
Night sailing in a race like this is a crazy experience. It was pitch dark except for the miragelike bobbing of running lights and stern lights, often wondering if a boat was coming towards us on a collision course or moving away towards safety. One time a cruise ship rolled by and illuminated the silhouette of a boat very near to us, which was a surreal experience. My forward running lights died during this time, requiring multiple tethered-in trips to the bow with my laying stomach over the pulpit, trying to keep all the parts and screws together while getting slammed around by waves. I thought about replacing that piece before the race and definitely regretted not doing it...
The rest of the night was a bumpy blur. Lots of steering up and down waves, trying to stay conscious - I ended up passing out for my only hour and a half of sleep of the whole race, before getting woken to drive the boat through Race Rocks and through the finish on the final way in. We ended up finishing about 5AM on Sunday, a bit longer than 19 hours total - pretty quick for a race that can go as late as 1AM on Monday night.
We hit the dock, passed safety inspection, got our free bowl of hot(ish) soup, and I handed the boat to two of the crew to deliver home. They departed immediately to make the tides, while the rest of us wandered Victoria in a sleep-deprived haze, waiting for our ferry to take us home. I think we all slept at least 10-12 hours on Sunday night.
I would absolutely do it again! My boat felt a bit noncompetitive against the class made of two Dufour 335s, and longer Beneteaus and a Jenneau, but I think with good tactics, a symmetrical kite that could stand up to high winds, and some grit, we could place top half of the fleet for sure.
