Under the Eye of Mount Olympus

The Gulf of Thessaloniki provided a training ground of extremes. When we arrived two weeks before the event, a strong northwesterly dominated, sending piles of seaweed onto the beach and making the launch difficult. João flew in to coach us and the Canadians for the event -  a true pan-American group! We picked up where we left off in Miami, taking a few days to get our European set-up dialed in to the gusty conditions.

By the week of the European Championship, all signs of wild conditions had disappeared. The race committee scheduled the races for the afternoon, betting on the southerly seabreeze. Even with the later start time, we often came down to rig only to see glassy waters gently lapping at the shore. Despite the heat and the hazy skies, the sea breeze did fill mostly as predicted and our fleet only lost one day of racing over the entire event.  

After training in the flat and fickle Miami conditions early in the year, we were feeling confident about this forecast. When we finally raced on the first day, we rounded the first mark in the top ten and promptly made the wrong downwind call, dropping rapidly to the back of the pack. We redeemed ourselves in race 2, starting well and carrying the position through to the finish. Looking back, this should have taught us the lesson of the week: start ahead to stay ahead. With marginal hull-fly conditions upwind and a general left favor, the course didn’t offer much in terms of passing lanes if you fell behind at any point. 

The next day saw us slow at the gun, unable to sail in clear air. We felt fast around the course, but in general, we started behind and had to fight for each position. Knowing that our race results all stemmed from the beginning put the pressure on, and we were eager to make the fix. 

Hiding from the heat in the trailer

On the third day, we sat baking in the box trailer, hoping the wind would hold so we could get a chance to race again. Despite the heat, we had fun joking with the other teams in the boat park before finally resigning ourselves to head home. Redemption on the start line would not be today. Turns out, it wasn’t on day four either. The breeze filled a bit earlier in the day, even allowing a few stretches of upwind foiling, but clean starts continued to evade us.

It was difficult not to let frustration take over. We knew we were sailing the rest of the course well, but without getting off the line, our technique and decision-making weren’t translating to results. On the last day, we both came to the boat park with clear minds and a determination to make it work. The seabreeze came in light and on time, so we launched quickly and towed out to the race course. Over the final four races, we put it all together. We decided to prioritize speed and space at go. After a simple boat start in the first race, we spent the rest of the day working starts from the pin. This allowed us to decide whether to undercut the fleet and start with space at the pin, or use a long port tack acceleration to tack back into a wide clear lane after ducking the bunched-up slow starboard boats. With clear lanes on the first beats, we were able to dictate our strategy instead of reacting to the decisions of boats ahead of us. After the top roundings, Carson called some great downwind lanes to keep us in enough wind to hold the foil in the marginal conditions. We improved our finish position in each race, crossing in an event-best 5th place in the final race to end on a high note. 

We packed up the trailer and reversed our tracks. Getting the set-up to Greece was a huge effort and returning to Barcelona was the same. After a drive through the mountains of northern Greece, an overnight ferry to Italy, a coast-to-coast cross-county drive, and another overnight ferry through the Mediterranean, we made it back to the warehouse in Barcelona to close out another huge European competition block.