max ebb: cone of silence

Lee slapped herself on her bottom. It took me a couple of seconds to fi gure out what she was trying to communicate: "Oh, I get it," I fi nally said out loud, although I was sure she could not hear me. "The anchor is on the bottom!" She was on the bow, I was at the helm, and we were trying to set a square line for the start of my club's winter race series. The wind was up, the engine was running, and hand signals were the only way to communicate. Her next signal was a thumbs-down. Did that mean she didn't like where the anchor was dropped? "It means back down," she shouted over the noise of the headwind and the engine. "And, like, this means more revs," she yelled as she pointed down and spun her index fi nger around in circles. "OK, makes sense," I shouted back as I put the gear shift in reverse and advanced the throttle. Of course the boat didn't back down in a straight line, with the stern veering off to port, fi rst from prop walk and then from the wind blowing the bow to starboard. But we did manage to set the anchor more or less in the right direction, and when the dust settled we had a starting line that was more or less square to the wind. "Next time we'll do it under sail, and it will be, like, much easier," Lee suggested as she came back to the cockpit. "Maybe, Lee, but I don't think I could luff up and stop in exactly the right spot. Powering up to where we want the anchor to set worked OK this time."

'Invictus' prowls the starting area at the Westpoint Regatta in July.

"Using the engine is cheating," Lee scolded. "I do it under bare poles. First, sail well upwind of where you want to anchor, then take down sails, then drift under bare poles down to the exact spot you want, then let the anchor go over the stern." "Over the stern?" I questioned. "Sure. Because on a race boat the anchor should be stowed aft anyway. Also, you get very precise positioning, because even under bare poles you can

For anchoring, the person on the bow is in charge. Lee did this via a set of hand signals, most of them obvious.

maneuver 20 or 30 degrees either side of dead downwind. And, like, the best part is that you can feel the boat yanked to a stop when the rode fetches up, so you know the hook is set. Then you can re-run the rode to the bow and fl ip the boat around so it rides bow fi rst." "Kind of like what I did when I had to do a Mediterranean mooring with a charter boat in the Caribbean," I confessed. "It was a boat with a ton of prop walk and a small rudder, and I knew I'd mess up in front of all the tourists at the downtown quay if I tried to back in. So I came in bow fi rst, lowered the anchor from the stern when we were still a good distance off, and tied the bow to the quay." "Like, that's not a real Med moor," said Lee. "Of course not. But then I slacked off the bow, pulled the boat out with the stern anchor, then swapped the bow and stern lines and pulled it back in stern first. Not as slick as backing in perfectly on the first try, but I know my limitations."

WWW.NORCALSAILING.COM

We were ahead of schedule for signaling the start of the race, but still had some work to do. Actually, it's a fairly minimal task. To make things easy on the volunteer race committee, my club starts the race at 1 p.m. exactly, and if anyone needs to know the precise time for their countdown they can look at their GPS. So all we had to do on the RC boat was choose a course and fi nd the right fl ags. Then it was just a matter of blowing a whistle every fi ve minutes and calling back premature starters on the VHF. "I can never understand why they need six people on the RC boat to run a regatta," Lee remarked. "I mean, when you have a GPS for time and VHF for communications, why do they still insist on using 17th-century naval signaling technology?" "I guess some folks still like to be salty," I speculated. "Flags and guns. But keeping it simple is the best way to make it easy for volunteers. That's why they tagged me to bring my boat, and they tagged you to be in charge of the starting line. But they usually recruit a cruiser to provide the boat and the anchor, and with this division of labor, the cruiser volunteer doesn't have to know anything about racing or setting a starting line; they just have to have a boat. Sometimes they even recruit a powerboater to do this. When you have a stinkpot, it's the one thing you can do to get powerboaters to like you."

"For sure," Lee agreed. "I think even the most race-o-phobic cruiser can be shamed into proving that they know how to anchor in open water. It's part of the cruising skill set. And, like, that way you have your whole club cruising fl eet to draw on for RC boats." "And then we also have a list of all the crews, everyone who has sailed in these races over the last few years, club member or not. I think that’s the real reason they made you sign that waiver at the beginning of the season — for your contact info. That's the pool from which came the Starting Line Manager, a volunteer who knows enough about racing to set a square line and run the start. It's a good way to divide the responsibilities." "But the best part," observed Lee, "is that we don't have to stay out here all afternoon. The fi nish is in front of the club deck, so I can go windsurfi ng as soon as we're done with starting this race." "The club also keeps the scoring system extra-easy," I added. "That's the third volunteer they rope into helping out each week — the Finish Line Manager. They take fi nish times, run the handicapping spreadsheet, and hand out the trophies. All of that is done from the yacht club bar. So between these three specialty jobs, we almost always have enough volunteers to run a race every week. The whole winter race program is designed to be as RC-friendly as possible, and it doesn't compromise fair competition in the least." "Last time I volunteered to help out on RC," complained Lee, "we had to set windward offset marks and leeward gates. For a fl eet of only, like, eight boats! No way I'll sign up for that one again. We've got permanent marks and nav aids all over the Bay, and the racing is just as good even if the mark is a few degrees off dead upwind. Better, even, because we have the mark positions loaded into our GPS and we don't have to guess where they are."

Iwas about to duck below to fetch some cold drinks when I felt a very subtle bump, and a change in the way the boat was riding at anchor. I looked at the opposite end of our starting line, and much to my dismay, the shore range had changed. Was this just the boat swinging around the anchor? No, there was another small bump, and the bow was falling off to one side. We were dragging. "Gotta reset," sighed Lee, who had come to exactly the same conclusion. "I'll direct from the bow, unless you prefer to run the show." I'm used to being in charge of my own boat when I'm at the helm, but Lee had a point. For anchoring, the person on the bow is in charge. She did this via a set of hand signals, most of them obvious, but a few required a shouted explanation. "It's a good thing we're not, like, doing this at Angel Island," said Lee after the anchor was reset, "with people on every other boat who can hear us shouting much more clearly than we can hear each other." "It's the Cone of Silence," I added, although I didn't think Lee was old enough to get the reference. The anchor held on the second try, and we just barely had it set in time to blow the whistle for the fi rst warning signal. The even distribution of starters along the line suggested that we had done a good job of setting it square to the wind. "I like starting the small boats fi rst," said Lee. "It gets everyone back to the bar at about the same time, and also minimizes the fi nishing-time window. Another thoughtful consideration to make the RC's job easier." The big boats lined up after a 10- minute interval, and each one had a bow lookout hanging on the forestay and trying to look cool. This fl eet must have decided that our end was favored, because there was a crush of big boats

aimed right at us on starboard with 30 seconds to go. My thoughts turned to the fi ne print on my insurance policy. The point guy on the boat closest to us was pointing emphatically to windward. "Yikes, they're going to run us over!" gasped Lee. "Fall off! Fall off!" we heard him yell aft as he continued to point to windward.

'Donkey Jack's' bowman silently conveys important information during the 2016 RBBS.

"The fi rst thing I do when I'm foredeck with a new skipper is make sure we have our hand signals sorted out."

"He's pointing at us," I said. "Instead of pointing in the direction he wants the boat to turn." "Newbie mistake," CBS TELEVISION problem with people who learn to sail on big boats. If they haven't spent a couple years wiggling the tiller in a dinghy fl eet with fi ve or said Lee as soon as the ten starts every weekend, boats had miraculously they'll never really be good cleared the line without foredeck." a collision. "The first "That's pretty harsh," I thing I do when I'm fore- opined. deck for a new skipper "But, like, it's true. They is to make sure we have can have all the mechanics our signals sorted out. I of sail changes and sets and point in the direction I drops down perfectly, but want to turn, not at the without the background as obstruction we have to racing skipper — even if avoid." it's just racing an Opti or "When you're on an El Toro — they'll never point," I asked, "are you really be good at thinking also in charge of the tactically, will never be good start, just like you took at thinking ahead of the control of the anchoring boat. Next time you have a maneuver?" newbie foredeck hand, send them over "A good bow person does take con- to my University Sailing Club. After a few trol," she said. "It's like the bombardier weeks of getting their derriere handed to fl ying the plane during the fi nal bomb- "Good in theory," I argued, "but too them in our dinghy races, they'll have, ing run. They have the best view, and if often I have a foredeck crew that barely like, an inkling of what they'll need to the bow person has some dinghy racing knows how to sail, even as they learn the learn to be really good crew." chops, they're usually better at starting mechanics of getting the spinnaker up "And good race committee too," I then the old guys in the back of the bus and down." added. anyway." "For sure," Lee sighed. "That's the

Maxwell Smart and the Chief in the Cone of Silence, as seen in 'Get Smart'.

— max ebb

Racing Hand Signals

Arm outstretched port or starboard, fi nger pointing: Turn in the indicated direction (do NOT point at other boats, obstructions or hazards).

Arm outstretched, port or starboard, repeatedly thrusting hand

and fi nger: Turn in the indicated direction now, urgent! Thumb up: Head up. Thumb down: Bear off. Finger across throat: Kill time. Fist: Hold course. Number of fi ngers up: Number of lengths to the line. Zero made with fi ngers: On the starting line. Looking through imaginary telescope: Watch out for the boat or obstruction in that direction. Hand pointing aft, fast circular motion with fi nger: "Wind it up, we're racing, can't be over early if we try."

Slicing or chopping motion with hand, to port or starboard:

There is an overlap. Hand held up, like traffi c cop: "Don't do it!" No overlap or no room. Holding nose with fi ngers: We are in bad air, tack as soon as possible. Hand up, slow circular motion with fi nger in air: The deck is clear to tack or jibe. Throwing gesture, directed at another boat: "Throw the book at them." We have been fouled, recommend protesting. Aiming imaginary gun at head: We have fouled another boat, recommend taking a penalty turn. Cover eyes with hands: We're going to crash and I can't watch.

Anchoring Hand Signals

Arm outstretched, fi nger pointing: Turn to the indicated heading. Arm outstretched, pointing up: Engine in forward, go straight ahead. Arm pointing aft, thumb down: Engine in reverse, go astern. Fist held up: Shift into neutral. Index fi nger pointing up, rotating in a circle: Engine in forward, increase engine speed, proportional to the rate of fi nger circling. Index fi nger pointed down, rotating in a circle: Engine in reverse, at a rate proportional to rate of circling. Arm outstretched port or starboard, with fi st: Move tiller in same direction as arm.

Arm pointed aft, rotate fi nger about the boat's longitudinal

axis: Turn wheel in indicated direction of rotation. Hand held up, like traffi c cop: Stop the boat here. Arm extended, pointing down over the bow at an angle: Anchor rode is parallel to direction of arm. Slap on butt cheek: Anchor is on the bottom (if anchoring), or anchor has broken free (if weighing anchor). Hand on top of head: Anchor is at the surface. Hold nose with fi ngers: Anchor is full of bottom mud, needs rinsing before bringing on board. Finger across throat: Kill engine. Waving hand: "Wave off," go around and try again.

Do you have a good hand signal miscommunication story? Send it to editorial@latitude38.com, and we'll publish it in Letters.