Whether you use it or not, you’ll be judged by your speed
Issue 40 : Jan/Feb 2005
A few years ago, I set out to write a “trilogy of editorials” dealing with time, speed, and distance. The time editorial (September 2002) was greeted with considerable enthusiasm. The distance piece (September 2003) inspired very little comment one way or the other. Speed has been the hardest of the three factors for me to write about. I have written three versions of the speed piece and trashed them all.
Speed, particularly as it applies to sailboats, is a relative thing. Most fast cruising monohulls are slower than a slow bicycle. The fastest of the cruising multihulls are slower than a fast bicycle. Compared to the most humble of powerboats, a sailboat seems to hardly move at all. Still, I am very concerned about the speed of my boat, which is only right and proper for a sailor.
Racing, of course, is all about speed. I have advised many would-be cruising sailors that the quickest way to learn to sail and learn to sail well is to crew on a well-run racing boat. That might seem at odds with the content of our magazine, which rarely mentions racing. Still, we help sponsor several racing events, and, when I added up my own experience, it came to about 900 races, most of which I enjoyed thoroughly and all of which taught me something.
A skipper who wants to win trains his crew, keeps his equipment in good condition, and conducts every evolution from a tack to a spinnaker strike as if it were a finely choreographed ballet. Experienced racing skippers know that three-hour races are often won by a few seconds, so such skippers insist on very high-quality work and technique.
Broader experience
Nonetheless, racing is about extremes, and I believe that cruising should not be about extremes. Cruising is a much broader experience, and the skipper can work the boat to accomplish a variety of objectives. The sights, sounds, and smells of the place are important. Tranquility can be sought and often achieved. Crewmembers might think it’s fun to carry a large press of sail for an hour or two but not for a two-day crossing. All cruising crews want to feel safe and (at least occasionally) comfortable. They want to be with a skipper who will work the boat to these ends.
For the cruising crew, the question is how much speed serves the immediate purpose. A sail of a few hours’ duration starting and ending in the same place (or one close by) can be done by working the boat hard (or not) as it strikes the fancy of those aboard. If the objective is to beat the next cold front and be tucked into a safe anchorage when the blow starts, all or almost all speed might be needed.
The best combination is a skipper, crew, and boat that are capable of good speed, should this be desired. I’m troubled when I hear someone say, “I don’t need to go fast, I’m not going to race.” This is usually a rationale for adding equipment and modifications to a boat that will make it hopelessly slow in the best of circumstances. Occasionally I am tempted to ask, “With a 6-knot boat, how many times do you want to give away a quarter of a knot?”
Then there is the intangible. Good boats have a sweet spot. When they are going the “right speed” for conditions, they feel “right.” Often this is very close to the same speed a good racing crew would achieve in the same conditions. This is hard to define and may take some years to feel, but when it is right, I know it is right.
It requires a fair amount of skill to operate a sailboat, and sailors are often quite rightly proud of the skills they have acquired. These skills can be seen in a smart, crisp docking maneuver, when a sail is changed or reefed, or in a number of other evolutions, but the common measure, universally acknowledged, in a half-gale or a drifter, is how the boat and crew make speed. That’s just how it is.
I wish you good speed.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
