Santa Cruz 27 Nationals

While working on the boat, I found out that the Santa Cruz 27 Nationals were being held July 10-12 in Monterey. With serious progress being made on the boat, I began trying to figure out how to race in the Nationals. However, I had a delivery on Criminal Mischief from SF Bay to Long Beach for the start of TransPac just before Nationals, so it was going to be a major push to make it.

Speed Merchant Services hooked us up with new standing (3/16" wire) and running rigging (1/4" Warpspeed) at wholesale prices and expedited the shipping to get it to us on time. The rigging arrived on Thursday, with the first race of Nationals the next day. The Jeep was loaded up, the boat and mast strapped down, and with a quick check of the new rigging we headed down to Monterey.

We got down to Monterey in the early evening and began setting everything up to re-step the mast for the first time. Several other SC27 owners came by to introduce themselves and wish us luck, but they didn't seem very confident in our efforts to be ready to race the next day. Barry Whittall, the owner of Variety Show, was kind enough to loan us an old 3/4oz spinnaker, which was lacking in our downwind sail inventory. The rest of our crew began to trickle in from around the state and help with the rigging. The crew was comprised of high school and college sailing friends and it was the first time I had seen some of them in a long time. Our line-up was Cody Spruce on foredeck, David Kurtmen as mast/grinder, Michael "Tweek" Whelden in the pit, Cole Davis as a trimmer, Sheehan Commette (my girlfriend and Snipe sailor extraordinaire) as tactician and trimmer, and myself as the skipper. Working together, Saltshaker hit the water around 4 a.m. and we had the rig up shortly after. I had been stripping and splicing the halyards while the standing rigging was set up, but decided to wait until the morning to run them. With the boat in the water and mast up, the crew dispersed to sleep for a few hours.

Around 7 a.m. I woke up and within 10 minutes was finishing the splices on the new halyards while some of the SC27 class watched and expressed their surprise that the boat was in the water and rafted up with the rest of the fleet. Finished splicing, I put on my climbing harness and free climbed the rig to start dropping the halyards in; the feeder lines I ran while pulling the old halyards just went from the masthead to the exits. When I was done with that, Sheehan tuned the rig while everyone else began showing up and finishing random little things around the boat. We were the last SC27 to leave the harbor for the noon start.

Breezy conditions allowed us to use the #3 jib for the start of the first race and we were doing well, but as the wind got lighter everyone switched to #1 genoas. We did the same, except our #1, made in 1988, was so blown out that even strapped at the chainplates, it was a foot off the spreader tip with the jib cars all the way forward. This kept us from pointing well upwind and we lost a few positions on the last beat to finish 7th out of 12 boats. The breeze came on again for the second race, a "distance race" of several miles, and we were doing well before the wind lightened to #1 conditions. Sailing 15 degrees lower than everyone else, the boats behind us caught up and then the jib pulled out of the head foil. Now we really couldn't point and while going for a close duck of a starboard boat, they tacked and we collided, putting a hole in the port side of their boat near the transom and above the waterline. There were no injuries, but since we were the port-tack boat and in the wrong, I radioed the Race Committee to withdraw from the race and we motored in.

Luckily, the Santa Cruz 27 class is very close-knit and friendly and the owner of the boat I hit was very nice and understanding. I offered to help repair the damage so they could keep racing, but his crew was already on the job. It also turned out that the co-owner and skipper of the boat was Bob DeWitt, the SC27 Class President; what a great way to introduce myself...

Back on Saltshaker, the crew was trying to figure out our head foil issue. I'm pretty sure it was the original head foil from 1979 and the plastic was cracked and brittle from three decades in the sun. A crack was running vertically up the inside of jib luff groove, allowing it to spread open under load. Also, bottom of the head foil were pretty FUBAR, making it hard to reset the jib for hoists. Our solution was to cut the bottom 6" off to get past the worst parts and try to file it the end to fit in the metal feeder. Also, there wasn't enough throw in the backstay or rig tension, so I shortened the spectra cascades and Sheehan borrowed a Loos gauge to tighten and further tune the rig. Luckily for us, there was no damage to Saltshaker in the collision.

The second day of racing brought lighter winds for #1 conditions, but we chose to use the #3, an almost unused 1988 Kevlar/Mylar jib, and retain our point at the expense of speed. We nailed the first start and were holding our lane when the jib came out of the head foil. This, and the #1 conditions, plagued us for the rest of the day, taking a 10th, 12th and 12th. However, we figured out the jib was coming down top to bottom because the head was actually poking out of the top of the head foil. This spread the head foil at the top and the jib zipper down. None of our jury rigs on the water were able to keep the head foil up, but back at the dock we sourced two small hose clamps. These, wrapped in Gorilla Tape, seemed adequate in keeping the head foil up.

The last day of racing brought 15-20 knots of breeze and 2-3 foot seas: perfect conditions for the #3 and surfing downwind. Working our way through the fleet, my crew hiked hard, ignoring the pain of sitting on the thin metal toerail. Sheehan fed me excellent tactics and I worked the traveler aggressively as other boats rounded up in puffs. We rounded the windward mark in 3rd and worked the boat downwind for all her worth. Being an Ultra Light, the Santa Cruz 27 loves sailing downwind in breeze, especially if there is some swell to surf. Sailing the boat like a dinghy, we gave one good pump of the sails down every wave to maximize our surfing speed, passing the 2nd place boat and closing in on the leader, Hanalei. We rounded in 2nd, but the last upwind to the finish was closer to shore with lighter and shiftier breeze. Both Hanalei and the third place boat changed to #1's for this beat, and we slid back to finish 3rd due to lack of boat speed.

As the wind got lighter throughout the day, all we could do was try to sail our best with the #3 and make gains during tacks, tactics, mark roundings, and downwind boat speed. We finished the last race in 9th, taking last place in the regatta by 1 point. However, we did get the "Turtle Trophy" for the last place boat! And more importantly, nothing on the boat broke during the last day, including the head foil.

We also made plenty of new friends and connections in the Santa Cruz 27 class, which is very close-knit. Rob Schuyler, 6 time SC27 National Champion and winner of the 2009 Nationals, came to me at end of the day on Sunday and said "If I see you back here with new sails next year, I'll be worried." Furthermore, the owner of Sumo gave us about 7 sails which he said, "Aren't new, but are a hell of a lot better than what you have." These sails included 2 #1's (one of which is Carbon), 1 #2 (all made by Santa Cruz Sails, a small loft in Santa Cruz with a great reputation), as well as 2 mains, another Kevlar #3 and storm jib, all by Larsen Sails (who no longer exist). Here is a link to the full results of the 2009 Santa Cruz 27 Nationals

With nowhere to go really, I decided to haul the boat the next day so other people on a schedule could get theirs out of the water. Sheehan had to drive back to San Diego and Dave to Santa Barbara. The rest of us just hung around the Monterey Peninsula Yacht Club and fiddled with the boat. Cole, Tweek, and I sailed in Monterey bay during high school, and it was nice to be back where I first learned to race sailboats.

The next day we de-stepped the mast, hauled out the boat and got everything ready to hit the road. On the way north we stopped at Ballenger spars to get the forestay shortened and again in Santa Cruz to pick up the free sails. I also took this as an opportunity to tow the boat over Highway 17, which is a steep and twisty grade, to practice for the long drive to Florida. Given our bad luck at Nationals, Cody and I decided to rename the boat Furthur. Many thanks to the owner of Sumo for the new (to us) sails, Bob DeWitt for being so nice and understanding, Boat US for doing a great job as an insurance company in fixing Duet, and Chuck Coyer of SMS for rushing to get me new rigging on a job where they made no profit.

With the Santa Cruz safely wedged next to the house and unloaded, Cody and I relaxed for a few days before flying to Hawaii to deliver two TransPac boats back to California. I would be on the R/P 45 Criminal Mischief and Cody on the TP52 Valkyrie.

Working on the Boat

After a four hour drive using my Jeep Cherokee as a tow rig we made it to Discovery Bay and squeezed the boat next to my parent's house.

Cody wet sanding the bottom next to the house

Our first job was to get the mast off and all the crap out of the boat to sort through it. Among it was a lot of good stuff like hardware and a MOB pole and a lot was just the random clutter that boats collect.

We started making a list of new parts the boat would need and what work would need to be done. I had been talking to the J/24 owner and rigger Brian Malone who I sail with in Florida about my project for a long time and he agreed to help me out. He is also the owner of Speed Merchant Services, a mobile rigging shop and racing yacht service provider, and giving us wholesale pricing on anything we need. I was able to get the boat new standing rigging, halyards, sheets and some new hardware at a great price.

Sanding the bottom was obviously the most daunting task and with day time temperatures of 100 degrees in Discovery Bay we would be working at night. First, Cody and I had to remove all the "crunchies" (little tube worm things) with a putty knife before starting to wet sand the ancient growth off the epoxy with 150 grit paper. We weren't using long boards, just large hand sanders, as the bottom was already pretty fair and they were the best we could find locally. Every night for three weeks we would sand the bottom for several hours.

After weeks of sanding we finally get a smooth bottom

Finding a Santa Cruz 27

The Santa Cruz 27 is a fairly rare boat with about 145 built (who was keeping track?) between 1973 and 1979. Due to their low build number and small one design fleet, few people outside of the West Coast have heard of one. That being said, I found several for sale around the country between summer 2008 and now. However, none of these boats matched my criteria as they were usually too nice and therefore too expensive. I was looking for a boat that needed some work, didn't have any major issues and that I could afford.

Unfortunately, during the spring of 2008 my grandmother "Meme" died after fighting cancer for several years. She had always been adventurous and fully supported me in all of my endeavors growing up. She was particularly proud of my sailing. When I found out she left me a small inheritance, I knew what I was going to do with it.

After finishing my sophomore year at Eckerd, I returned to home to California to search for a Santa Cruz 27 in its natural environment. While visiting friends in Monterey, I saw an SC27 sitting in a slip less than 100 yards from where I sailed in high school. After calling around to try and find the owner, my high school sailing coach Mr. McAleer put me in contact with him. With extreme apprehension, I called this total stranger. His wife answered the phone and while introducing myself I mentioned that I was interested in buying their boat. She quickly told me she was on the other line but he would call me back shortly. Fifteen minutes later he called back and after talking for a little bit we agreed to meet in Monterey and he would show me the boat with his co-owner.

The boat looked like it had sat for a long time and their was a marine sanctuary growing on the bottom. The rigging was old and needed replacing, as did most of the lines, blocks and some hardware. Below decks she had a clean, dry bilge, no major signs of water intrusions (all boats leak, it just depends how much), the wood needed varnish but there was no rot and all the tabbing was solid. I thanked the owners and told him I would give it some thought.

A few days later I called the owner and gave him a low offer. I was not surprised he refused and we agreed on a price pending a clean survey. It turns out the boat came with a 1979 trailer and 2001 Honda 2hp 4-stroke outboard that had barely been used. The owners were nice enough to get the bottom cleaned, put the boat on the trailer and take the mast down for the survey. I chose Joesph Rodgers of Rodgers & Associates to survey the boat as he once built them in Bill Lee's Chicken Coop across the bay in Santa Cruz. Out of the water I was amazed how good the bottom looked, a lot of the bottom paint was gone, revealing a relatively fair, spray-on epoxy barrier coat that would only need to be wet sanded for hours. A testament to the glass work on the Santa Cruz 27 and protection from the barrier coat, there were no blisters on the hull and only a few small ones on the rudder. The core proved to be dry and the boat solid. The only issues were the ones I already knew about and we prepared to fix. Following the survey, I gave the owners a check and when it cleared a few days later the boat was mine. Cody and I drove down and after working on the trailer lights for several hours we were on our way north.

Saltshaker is hull 116 and was made in February of 1979. After being raced extensively during the 1980's in Southern California, Saltshaker moved to Monterey, California where she was raced for another decade. Robin Jeffers actually raced on Saltshaker a little bit and said the boat was one of the fastest when the one design fleet was big.

Backstory

In high school, my sailing coach Mr. Jack McAleer, would tell us stories of his experiences sailing in offshore distance races and deliveries while we drove to regattas. At this point in my life and sailing career I had never even heard of a TransPac, Pacific Cup, Sydney to Hobart or Fastnet, yet he had sailed in all of them. All I knew was I loved surfing the team’s CFJ’s on the ocean swells when Monterey got breezy and these races to Hawaii sounded like doing just that, but for weeks. As I expressed my interest, Mr. McAleer told me that the best way to gain the offshore experience necessary for racing was to deliver boats before or after offshore races. During the summer of 2005, my friend Dave Kurtmen was delivery crew on the TransPac 52 Rosebud from Hawaii to California and I instantly knew what I wanted to do the next summer.

My first offshore delivery was in 2006 aboard the ILC40, Mureadritta’s XL, which had just raced in the Pacific Cup and was going from Oahu, Hawaii, back to San Francisco, California. Among the crew was the boat’s owner, Nick Barran, his friend David Smith, Nathalie Criou and myself. However, 425 nautical miles north of Hawaii, a Sperm whale rammed and sank the boat. We attempted to stem the flow before taking turns manning the bilge pumps and sending out mayday attempts over the radio. Nick activated the EPIRB and even resorted to calling friends on Oahu with the satellite phone when there was no response to our Mayday calls on the Single Sideband Radio. With every effort of saving the boat exhausted, Nick gave the order to abandon ship and we stepped up into the liferaft with XL’s cabin top awash and just the stern above water.

Several hours later we heard the drone of engines and saw a Coast Guard C-130 flying low and right at us. Unfortunately we couldn’t reach them on the handheld VHF in the emergency grab bag and watched as it waggling its wings, then circled XL’s listing mast. (Note: The designer of Mureadritta’s XL later confirmed that due to the boat’s construction of carbon fiber over a foam core it would remain slightly buoyant before sinking.) The C-130 then flew back over us, dropping a smoke flare to judge the wind before coming on a final pass to drop an orange barrel on a parachute. The barrel landed 50 yards from the life raft and I swam to retrieve it. Wrapped in foam inside it was another handheld VHF, on and tuned to the channel 16, the Coast Guard emergency channel.

The Coast Guard informed us that we were well out of helicopter range, but a container ship and two fishing boat had been vectored to our position. The container ship would reach us first and take us aboard, then transfer us to one of the fishing boats heading back to Hawaii. At dusk the Maersk Darwin appeared over the horizon and launched a lifeboat to retrieve us. We climbed aboard and were taken back to the ship where we had to climb the forty-foot tall rope and wood Pilot ladder to deck level. After being taken to the bridge to meet the captain we were served dinner in the Officer’s Mess. By then we had converged with the Long-line fishing boat Kami M and prepared to make the transfer. The seas had risen and we were unable to directly board the Kami M, so we were lowered down in the lifeboat, which motored us to the side of fishing boat. By carefully timing with the waves we were able to jump to the rail and the crew dragged us aboard. Four days later we were back in Hawaii.

While in Hawaii, I found another boat that had raced in the Pacific Cup and was leaving soon for California. I wanted to finish the delivery, even if it was on another boat, but my parents quickly shut that idea down and I flew home a few days later. Even though everyone wanted to hear the story of the whale (and this particular version is drastically shorter), I still felt like I had started something and not finished it.

In 2007 I was supposed to be delivery crew on the Turbo’d Santa Cruz 52 Kokopelli 2 following the TransPac, but Eckerd College’s freshman orientation and autumn term coincided. I sent a two-page letter to the school explaining my situation and asking to be excused for the first four days, but Eckerd refused. If I wanted to go to Eckerd I would have to be there for all of autumn term. I read Sailing Anarchy as the Morning Light crew became international superstars of the sailing world and the crew of On the Edge of Destiny set the record as the youngest crew to do the TransPac with an average age of 19.8 years old. At this point I knew that I wanted to be part of the youngest crew to sail an ocean race.

By 2008 I had greatly expanded my sailing knowledge and abilities, but I was still lacking a true blue-water passage. After putting my name on the Pacific Cup website crew list I was approached by a skipper from Hawaii looking for crew for the race. This was my dream-come-true! The boat, called Buzz Off was a Henderson 30, a high performance sport boat and far from an offshore design. However, the idea of screaming downwind for 2070nm enticed me and I signed on as crew. Not only was I going to be racing to Hawaii, but I was also delivery crew on the R/P 45 Criminal Mischief back to California. After finishing my freshman year of college and flying home I spent 6 weeks working on the Buzz Off before the Pacific Cup. Due to some commitment issues, one of the crew was dropped, leaving a spot open. I called my friend Cody Spruce, another freshman sailor I met at Eckerd, and he quit his job to do this race.

While the boat was well prepared and passed all the Pacific Cup safety inspections, it had some weak points and we quickly found them. 12 hours after our start, the main shredded as we were beam reaching in 25-35 knots of wind with a single reef. The main had been made in Ventura, California and was designed for the light winds of Southern California. This, combined with the reefing lines getting tangled so we were unable to reef the main further, caused the sail’s untimely demise. We would sail the remainder of the race with a storm trysail instead of a main. And this was just the beginning of many things that would go wrong.

During the race we had numerous spinnaker halyard failures requiring me to go up the mast at least eight times. The boat was so wet that the battery charger failed from moisture condensing below decks and we were pumping the bilge between every watch shift. Then the “Vara System” rudder bearings began to fail, causing the helm to lock up while surfing, forcing the driver to wrench it free to the sound of crunching Delrin bearings. Furthermore, of the four crew, only Cody and I were able to steer the boat with the spinnaker up without broaching. In the middle of the Pacific Cup, Cody and I began talking about doing the race double-handed. We were already doing all the steering, following a 3-hour on, 3-hour off watch schedule. However, we would need a more controllable boat that could be sailed well double-handed, something the Henderson 30 was not.

After making it safely to the finish in Kaneohe Bay, we began planning how we would be able to race the 2010 Pacific Cup double-handed. While talking to a group of sailors from Velos, an Ullman Sailmaker named Chuck Skewes introduced himself and offered his support in our efforts. And we are currently working with him to get the best price on sails possible. Cody also found a spot as delivery crew on Velos going back to San Diego.

While on the delivery back to California we saw some whales, but none of them bothered us. It was an amazing sail, Criminal Mischief is such a powerful sailboat, and I saw some amazing things like Mahi Mahi jumping after a school of squid, a rainbow halo around the sun, shooting stars against an arm of the Milky Way, dolphins galore, and the Green Flash. Robin Jeffers, the Delivery Captain and Bowman of Criminal Mischief, used to own a Santa Cruz 27 and suggested it as the perfect boat to sail the Pacific Cup double-handed. I knew about the SC27 and other ULDBs from around Santa Cruz and had been watching them come and go for sale. However, at that time neither Cody nor I had the money to buy a boat, so we kept trying to figure out how we were going to do this race.