The Gybe

When I see fellow crew from my days sailing on the J35 Miller Time, we often still talk about “The Gybe”. We had taken Miller Time to the Houston Yacht Club the race the Sperry Topsider Regatta. We were always serious about racing, but the class winners of this regatta got new shoes for everyone on board. What sailor couldn’t use a new pair of TopSiders?

Things went well Saturday, and it became obvious it would come down to us or the other J35 in our class. They had the advantage of local knowledge and were darn good sailors to boot. It would be a battle to the finish. Sunday the wind was blowing something fierce. In an effort to get into the heads of our competition we headed out early. This also gave our crew less time to think about how hard it was blowing. We were going to windward with the smallest jib we owned and big twist in the sails. Galveston bay is shallow and famous for its short chop. It was not a dry ride. Then to make sure we made the proper impression, we put up our heavy chute and pulled off two or three gybes. We were ready.

The race started and we pulled out a small lead on the first beat. Our rivals were right behind. We set the chute and so did they. We pulled off the gybe and so did they. To give you an idea of how hard the boat was working in the chop, on every downwind leg we had to swaps ends on the jib sheets. They were chafing in the blocks and wearing through the cover on a two mile beat.

With one more downwind leg to go, we had a comfortable lead. The chute went up and we were at it again. We got ready for our last gybe of the race. We squared the boat down, and Bill called “cut”. This was the signal for the mast man to open the pole jaw and lower the pole to the bow man. A tiny fraction of a second later, our windward tweaker exploded. If you are new to the terminology, the tweaker is a line that holds the Spinnaker guy down to the rail near midships. This has the advantage of choking the chute down and reducing its freedom to roll side to side. Let’s just say it is a critical piece of gear when the wind is howling and the waves are already wanting to roll the boat.

At this point there is no going back, so Bill continued the turn and the bow frantically tried to get the pole across to the new side. It was not to be. We were gybing from Starboard to Port and the boat took a roll to starboard. When the boat rolled, the unconstrained chute kept going to starboard. Everyone knew we were doomed. If there was any doubt, Bill yelled that he was losing the rudder and for everyone to get down. I’ve flipped a lot of small boats and my share of keel boats, but this was only the second time I’d seen a 35 foot boat turn over that fast and that far. I don’t think the mast hit the water, but it didn’t miss by much.

Now is when you just sit back and wait. The boat expends the last of its energy dragging in the water and turned back toward the wind as it comes to a stop. The sails make a horrible noise. Then the keel should take over and right the boat. Everything happened according to plan except the part about the boat coming back up. It just stay laying over on its side. I was tactician and main trimmer, so I was standing next to Bill the skipper. We were having a calm discussion,

Bill, “I’ve never had the boat stay over this long before.”

Me, “Don’t worry, it will come back. Give it a minute.”

Bill, “We’re still in first place if the boat comes back up.”

Me, “I know. I sure don’t want to take the chute down.”

Bill, “I’m starting to worry.”

Me, “Me two. Bill, I think we have to give up.”

Bill, “GET THE CHUTE DOWN!”

It seems the wind pressure against the bottom of the hull and the flapping sails were an equal to the righting moment of the keel. As soon as they ran the port side spinnaker sheet and guy and started easing the halyard, the boat popped right up. Alas we had to settle for second place. To rub salt into our wounds the shackle that held the port side sheet and guy to the chute opened in the flapping and we lost all that gear. Bill commented that he hated to lose the guy because it was 7/16 inch and he considered that the perfect size for the application. Unfortunately, they didn’t make that size any longer. Bill had us all feeling really bad about the guy. As we were putting everything away and loading his truck, he pulled back a tarp and announced that this was the last 600 foot reel of his favorite 7/16 inch line he’d ever be able to buy. We didn’t feel so sorry for him after all.