I entered my first race with the Taipan 4.9—sailed F16 Uni (solo, cat rigged with spin). The event was hosted by the Multihull Racing Association (MHRA) at Bodega Bay, located on the Pacific coast north of San Francisco. The wind and waves were big and the water was cold. (And I’m sure there were plenty of sharks too.) Due to family commitments, I could only sail Saturday. It turned out that was quite enough anyway because I got worked over pretty good.

The event was small, with some big Nacras (6.0na, 5.8na), Prindles (18-2) and Hobies (an 18 and 16--most were at the Monterey Hobie event). And note that this is a totally unofficial report. Weather reports from the day before indicated gusts of 35 (mph?) and huge swells at the offshore buoys (like over 20 ft at nearby Point Reyes). As we rigged our boats on the calm Saturday morning and looked out at the glassy conditions we really thought the conditions would be softer. We were wrong.

The start was set up just off the beach. The first race sent us out to an offshore buoy past the protection of Bodega Head. Great scenery, when I got to glance at it. The wind felt like 10-12 initially. As we started, I followed the big Nacras out to sea as the mark was not visible and a wrong turn could put me in some huge breaking surf along the reef-protected cliffs. As we exited the bay, the large (8+) lumpy swells became more and more of an issue. I had a difficult time getting the uni rig in the groove but finally did. I needed power to drive through the heavy seas but the rig felt “bound up” initially. I’m much more familiar with sailing sloop, so I found myself oversheeting at times and slowing down. Another challenge was staying on the boat. I found I had to fly a hull fairly high to keep from being swept off the boat by the surface chop. The lightweight Taipan accelerates great; but it also decelerates well too. Just physics. Low mass, low inertia. The fine bows punched through the waves nicely, but whenever I got slammed (meaning me, not the boat) with a wave it really put the brakes on. By the windward mark, the wind was increasing steadily and the big boats had put a lot of distance on me--but I wasn’t last. I rounded the mark and realized there was no feasible way for me to fly the spin. The sea conditions made it hard enough just to stay on the boat. The Taipan surfed well (I love the aft rocker), but I needed to keep the boat flat to use the buoyancy of both hulls. By the last leg we were in the flatter waters of the bay again. I made up a little distance on the big boats but I’m sure I sailed much slower overall than the boat’s rating. Wow, what a ride. I was ready for more.

By the second race the wind had built further to "Golden Gate conditions." The start was downwind for this race. I popped the spin right away and zipped off. I was able to sail very deep yet kept the windward hull aloft most of the leg. It felt like I was waterskiing on the lee hull. The speed was just unbelievable. I was well ahead when I arrived at the first mark, a clanking buoy out in the open swells. As I went to snuff the kite to round the mark, I capsized in grand fashion. It happened very quickly, and I think a swell put me into an accidental jibe just as I started to pull the retrieval line. I guess my “autopilot” (tiller thrown off the back, hoping it would track straight) didn’t work. Now capsized in the big lumpy swells, the spin wrapped itself tightly around the diamond wires making it impossible to snuff. Of course, I couldn’t right the boat without getting the spin in, so I had to jump back in, swim to the end of the mast and untangle the spin, then shimmy back to the boat, climb on, finally snuff the spin out of the water (lot more drag than usual), and right the boat. Not getting separated from the boat was my main concern during this process. The boat righted easily with the kite down, but by this time I had blown a 1/2 mile past the bell buoy. After beating back, I made it to the beach very worn out to find out that the race had been abandoned due to the conditions. Dunno if anyone got photos.

By the third race the conditions had become windier, with whitecaps visible offshore. But only a couple boats were ready to call it a day. So a short sausage course was set—basically just a reach back and forth near the protected shore. Half of us capsized jockying for the start, one N5.8 snapped both dagger boards, and, in the end, I was happy to finish.

All in all, I had a blast. I was tired and bruised, but nothing was broken. The boat was flawless. (I'm excited to report that another Taipan F16 is arriving here in Calif. this week.) I took my lumps, but I sure got the cobwebs out of my brain (flushed out, that is, by several gallons of seawater). The MHRA folks were really helpful, and the tuna BBQ was excellent.

We all sail for different reasons. Head to head racing is just one of them. For me, I sail for the exhilaration, for the physics, for the challenge, and most of all for those moments when so much concentration is required that you simply can’t think about anything else. One of my favorite elements of the F16 uni is the challenge of using the spinnaker without crew. I was obviously in a little over my head this weekend due to the conditions, but when I had the boat “dialed in” it was immensely satisfying.

Straight in at the deep end ehh Eric.

If it were easy than everybody would do it and the achievement would mean very little.

You know I can picture the feeling you must have had. Past season I relived the adrennaline rush a few time just before pulling a spi on a 49-er skiff in a breeze. Your sailing the craft you know you must be able to control that thin as other have proven it can be done but you alos know that it takes alot of swimming to get there. Great experience by the way; and each succesful run (no swiming) feels like a full scale victory.

I hope a good breeze with flat waters is waiting for you in the near future.

Nice report Eric. Thanks

Wouter

Great writeup Eric!

A couple of questions . . .

I've not been in 20' seas for a long time now, and then it was in my trusty Hobie 18 that was the best surf-big seas cat I ever sailed. I have had my Taipan 4.9 in 6-8' seas with short periods and found the same thing you have. It surfs great but the hobby horsing, light weight, and 16' length really stops quickly when you do catch the swell head on. I did fly my spinnaker (like a fool) in this mess and like you capsized as soon as I tried to snuff it. I had a heck of a time righting the Taipan after untangling the spin and its sheets. The Taipan is so light that walking the forward hull down into the 45 degree angle to wind was difficult because it wanted to spin back before I could get back in the center with the righting line. Between the wind (about 20) and the seas, I just couldn't seem to get it up and keep it up even holding on to the dolphin striker. As it came up, the next wave just rolled it on over on the other side. It would simply pirouette and promptly go back over. I was exhausted and over a 1/2 mile from my initial capsize before I luckily got it up and hung on long enough to climb aboard. Did you find any trick to righting yours?

I've lost it three other times. but the seas were only 2-3' and righting it wasn't a big deal (I'm 190lbs) but I worry about losing it again in big air and seas.

I have since installed the "power righter" but haven't been out in big enough seas to really test it.

How far out in front of your hulls is your spinnaker pole? How high above the hulls? Do you use the end snuffer or the "skunk" snuffer?

How did you position the Taipan for righting? What do you use for righting? Hawaiian system or just a rope?

I told Jim Boyer when he was here that I preferred the old, heavy Hobie 18 in big seas and air and he always said "The Taipan is so light you just fly over the waves." I haven't found the "flying" groove yet. I still manage a collision with the next out-of-sync wave and hold on for dear life. I never used a "sissy" line until I sailed this Taipan.


Jon Hamlet
Taipan #217
Casey Key island, Florida

Jon,

I know what you mean about the TheMightyHobie18--my dad had #135 and we sailed it all the time in the ocean and surf. I was actually quite pleased with how well the Taipan handled the conditions, and the problems I had were due to my inexperienced with the boat and handling--solo--the combination of the lightweight platform yet powerful rig. A more experienced Taipan sailor may have ripped through the swells with ease.

I have the AHPC mid-pole snuffer and Goodall spinnaker. I have it set at the "factory" settings, ie just as they were shipped to me. Next time I rig it I can measure, but the end of the pole does not look as high as your does in the photos I've seen of your boat.

Once I got the spinnaker snuffed, I had no trouble righting the boat (that time or any of the other times I've capsized) with the AHPC set up the boat came with. I'm 180lbs, 6'1" and with gear on (wetsuit, harness, PFD, etc) probably 10 lbs more. The righting line runs through fairleads mounted on each end of the underside of the front beam and have stopper balls on the end. The slack is held up by a thin bungee that holds the line via a plastic O ring and runs back to the rear beam, through a shackle and back up to the dolphin striker. When I capsize, I just pull the rope through the fairlead on the high side and have plenty of line as the bungee is stretched. Note that I have not even passed the line over the hull, which would offer a little more leverage--just pulled from where it attaches. I always position the boat so the wind is aimed at the mast step, with the mast and hulls pointing off the wind 45 degrees. Once the boat comes up, I keep a death grip on the dolphin striker and then pull myself on.

I'm having a great time with the Taipan, I just need to learn how to harness its awesome power/weight ratio.