All boats over 18ft are allowed, around 45 multihulls entered, sadly no monster trimarans this year, the largest/fastest was a Gunboat 66, which unfortunately was to capsize after breaking a rudder somewhere south of the Island.

 

I played it safe on my 30ft Sagitta catamaran and entered the multihull cruiser class. Not only were we 20% slower than the next slowest racing boat but we were definitely lacking in experience. Although I had crewed on a trimaran in 2019 I hadn't raced my own boat in the RtheI for over 20 years. Joe had his first ever sail on a multihull just four days earlier. Shaun had never used a spinnaker and his catamaran experience was limited to our sail/motor up from Plymouth. Otherwise he's only sailed dinghies. Lawrie is only 14 and no relation, so we had an extra duty of care. Thus no spinnaker, instead we would use our masthead screecher - goosewinged if necessary.

 

The forecast was not promising - although maybe it was actually a "typical English summer day" - SW winds of 20-25 knots plus higher gusts. And so it proved to be. And that meant it was likely to be a big/fast boat race. Again, as it proved. In contrast, in 2019 winds were light and the overall winner was a 50 year old 18ft keelboat, and the first monohull to finish was 168th on corrected time. Multihulls and big boats always start first. Which, later in the race, makes it kind of fun to look back at 1000+ spinnakers.

 

The tides in the Solent and round the IOW can be strong, 3-4 knots in places. To help competitors the race starts just before HW so boats get "flushed" out of the Solent and past the Needles, even though this usually means smaller, slower boats are fighting the tide on the south side of the island. The tide races out at the Needles, as it's funnelled by the Shingle Bank, Hurst Castle on the mainland, and the Needles themselves. So, with a strong wind and against the tide, it's a tricky, uncomfortable few miles.

 

We did well beating down the Solent, initially staying close in to the mainland shore to keep out of the still flooding tide. Then, once the gps/log indicated the tide had turned, we kept in mid channel. Surprisingly not many used the same tactic, so with few other boats around we had clear air, and we were well up with much faster boats as we approached the Needles.

Far off in the distance to windward we could see Poole disappear in a storm cloud, one we knew was heading our way. So, unlike some of the less attentive, we were prepared for rain and a big squall just as we got to the roughest part of the Needles channel. This photo shows what happened first.

 

 

Had David Harding taken another photo a few seconds later he'd have caught us disappearing into the back of the next wave. Fortunately it was not my bunk that got wet. So a good thing we were playing safe and taking it easy!

 

Others were more unlucky, if not foolhardy. We saw a number of monohull keel bulbs, at least three broken masts and, most scary of all, there were apparently 16 MOBs during that same squall.

 

Once past Tennyson Down (named after the famous poet) the rule is to keep as close to the shore as you dare for the next 20 miles or so. So we tried to stay on the shore side of the innermost pot buoys along the south of the island, which meant running on the 5m depth mark. Even so a Swan 43 sailed inshore of us and overtook many who were playing it safe. It really does pay to stay as close to the shore as you can to keep out of the tide.

 

Ryde Sands are notorious for catching the unwary, as the shallow water extends much further than many expect. We had "cased the joint" a few days before and had a safe track on our chartplotter. Even so I asked one daggerboard to be partly raised when the depth dropped alarmingly to 1.6m - we draw 1.5m with boards down.

 

Despite the squall off the Needles and the near grounding the worst part of the race was at the finish. Some very rude monohull sailors who didn't know the rules. One large Dragonfly trimaran, sailing just behind us, must have been close to panicking when they called for water off Norris Castle and no one tacked away. It even looked like they may have been forced aground.

The finish line was a short one - even by dinghy standards. So when six of us crossed it in under a minute, to windward and against a very strong flooding tide there was, to say the least, a lot of shouting.

 

But we made it - 124th boat over line, and easily first in the multihull cruiser class. Boats were still finishing long after we had sailed back to our marina and we were having a celebratory meal.

Finally a special mention to one of my other designs, the 30 year old, home built 9m Skua "Mawhiti" which finished 39th over the line and 14th in the multihull racing class. It had crossed the Atlantic back in 2003 when I was sailing my Eclipse in the Caribbean - I sailed it in Bequia - although it has been much modified since then.

 

More on Sagitta here https://www.sailingcatamarans.com/.../3-25ft.../171-sagitta