Gallant victory at Falmouth Week

Whilst the good and great of the Sigma fraternity were licking their spars, or whatever you do after a bruising Cowes Week, one lone 38 flag was flying further west, as Gallant took on the locals in the Falmouth Week Regatta PY Division. And as one depression after another piled in straight off the Atlantic, dumping enough rain onto the deck to uncover leaks that didn’t even know they were leaks, they cunningly combined with squally 34 knot winds and lumpy seas in a determined effort to dampen the bedding, our spirits and generally turn this into the soggiest family holiday in the annuals of the Fenner Family. But we are fully paid up Association members with an insignia on our mainsail to be proud of and a pad of ferret training notes to mug up on over that first morning cup of tea. So it was first out in the bay each morning (just as it says in the gospel according to Saltonstall), 2 reefs in the main and the No 2 ready to hoist; then check the wind for oscillation, eyeball the marks, and gasp in admiration as the Classic yachts thunder by.

The IRC fleet are first to start, and we watch anxiously to spot the winning tack. Then its jostle for position with Jeanneau 40’s an awesome Bennatau, handy looking GK 24’s and a smartly sailed Nicholson - all seemingly with PY handicaps to die for. In best Ben Ainsley tradition we dive for a gap on the windward end and power through on the telltales to keep the fleet under our lee. Our three new crew members, all locally based and making their Sigma 38 debut this very morning, get to grips with the string (ouch, he won’t forget the running backstays next time) and we lay the windward mark on the next tack. Then it’s twice round the triangular regatta course to take line honours and second place on handicap.

Day 2 dawns dull and wet and windy, but with a good start and some slick crew work we cream round the course. Alas disaster lurks at the last mark for our youthful tactician as we bear away for an imaginary finish line that puts Gallant 25 minutes downwind of the rest of the fleet. Too late to matter, we play catch up and scrap in second from last on the score sheet. Ah well, that’s the discard sorted out.

Day 3 howls. The wind howls, the rain stings, we shout at each other till we are hoarse, then resort to sign language as yet another reef is needed minutes before the start and a team of heroes led by Maddie, fight their way onto the foredeck to stifle the No 2 and get our pocket hanker chef of a delivery jib up in its place. We start late, but stay the course with only the long keeled Nic 32, the Jeanneau 40 and the Big Bennatau for company until her boom breaks and she heads for the comparative comfort of Carrick Roads.

Back in the marina our new crew mates, are fulsome in their praise of Sigma 38’s sea keeping qualities and sign on for next year’s Fastnet, the ARC and the Round Britain over coffee and cake. We earn another second place on handicap behind the locally owned and trained Nic 32.

Unbelievably, Day 4 howls still louder with all racing cancelled and even the seagulls grounded. Our local crewmates cower inside double glazing, The Fenner ladies head off for some much needed retail therapy in Truro, while the skipper potters, tackling the “to do list” as the fenders squeal in protest and a massed concerto of halyards reaches fever pitch in Mylor marina.

Day 5 and it’s on with the factor 15 as the sun struggles briefly through. We shake out reefs for the first time, host the No 1 and hit the line at 6 + knots as the klaxon sounds. Our new crew warm to the task, share the driving and we start to mix it with IRC fleet in front, as Gallant revels in the steady 14 to 16 knots and gallops to another second place. By now we are equal first on overall points and we begin to taste that elusive chocolate!

This afternoon the results for the day and the prizes are held at St Mawes. A delightful feature of Falmouth Week is each club around the Bay taking it in turns to host the après sail - the redoubtable ladies of the clubhouse vying to lay on the most amazingly scrumptious cream teas.

Day 6 the last regatta race day and you can’t keep a good depression down for long, so the reefs go back in and the number three makes an appearance. Sadly we’ve lost crew boss Maddie, replaced now by 16 year old Henry who’ se having his first ever taste of big boat sailing. Our PY’s been adjusted down each day to even up the racing, so we have to squeeze another 8 minutes from somewhere, just to hold our own. But the Gallant crew have fused into a finely honed team, determined to trim another half knot or so if the can. We scorch round the triangular course, take line honours again, then hang around the finish line, hoping the strengthening foul tide will work in our favour as we count in the opposition. Its nail biting stuff, but our resident mathematician thinks we’ve made it, just.

18:00 and we assemble at the Royal Cornwall Yacht Club for prize giving (should the Mayor be getting his chain wet in this drizzle?) and a surprise. Well two surprises. On equal points with the local whiz kids, Gallant takes second place overall (our higher discard finally counts against us) but we win first prize for best family crew. After the back slapping and official photo call, we come away, with wide grins, a handsome £100 Henri Lloyd voucher and an armful of glassware for the mantelpiece.

With thanks to the two John’s and to Ruth whose hot Cornish pasties as we hiked on the last windward leg were truly memorable.