Question: "I have a little more weather helm than I would like when the wind gets up around 15 to 20 knots. I can reduce it somewhat by adjusting the centerboard. But as the wind increase the weather helm increase. I'm certainly not an expert but I feel the sail has too much of a roach in it, I’m wondering if the sail can be altered... Maybe I could bring the sail in and you could look at it."


My response: Before you assume that your boat is not balanced properly you should be aware of some other factors that effect your rudder. In the wonderful world of sailboats nothing is as simple as it seems.

Rudder pressure is not nearly as important as rudder angle. The hinge point on your rudder has a dramatic impact on the pressure that you feel. A rudder that is not very deep, but is long fore and aft will create a lot of pressure if the hinge is along the leading edge. If the pivot point were further aft you would feel less pressure. Rudders that sweep aft also create more pressure but they don't pick up weeds as readily. Some rudders have a hinge that slants forward. Stars, Shields and most full keeled boats are good examples. When their rudders are turned hard some of the rudders rotational force is lost because the forward slant of the hinge forces the rudder into more of a wedge. It begins to pull the stern down rather than to a side.

In order for boats to sail upwind their keels have to suffer some leeway. It is this leeway that allows the keel to create lift. A keel, or centerboard, flies to windward in much the same way that an airplane wing does. We can’t make a wing or keel fuller or flatter like we can with our sails, but we can add more curvature to a wing by dropping the flaps. The rudder on a sailboat acts like the flaps on an airplane. That is why most boats sail upwind best with about 3 degrees of rudder angle. (Tiller pulled to windward, ... flaps down for maximum lift) The amount of leeway, speed, and balance of your boat will affect the optimal angle, but 3 degrees is a good starting point.

In heavy air keels or centerboards can create more lift than the boat has ballast. That is why raising your centerboard relieves some of the pressure. The Centerboard was providing too much lift relative to the amount of opposing pressure on your sails. That lift was trying to drive the bow into the wind and making the boat heel. You were countering with your rudder.

When a boat heels many things start to act on the rudder. The keel will stick out to windward and the mast and sails will go to leeward. This creates a kind of torque on the boat. The drag on the keel wants to push the windward side of the boat aft and the sail plan wants to drive the leeward side forward. Think of it as if you were dragging your leg in the water. The boat will want to turn around your leg. Once the boat is heeled the rudder becomes less efficient. Rudders are generally designed to rotate the stern of your boat back and forth within a plane perpendicular to the rudder. This works relatively well when the boat is standing upright, but when it is heeled some of the rotational force wants to push the bow up or down rather than sideways. Maybe this accounts for some of the forward slanting rudder hinges on some older designs I mentioned above?

Another thing that occurs when a boat heels is that the leeward chine (the bottom corner) of the hull is pushed further to leeward. The wider the boat the greater the effect. If you have ever sailed a Lightning (a relatively wide boat with a "hard chine") you would have found that the helm is greatly affected whenever the leeward chine is dipped into the water. Lightnings actually use their chines to create some lateral resistance. When the chine hits the water it acts like a bent ski. The boat wants to follow the curve that the chine makes as it curves from bow to beam. Lightning sailors quickly learn that there is a critical heel needed to sail well upwind. The hard chines and flat bottom of a Lightning make the boat very fast downwind in planing conditions, but they can be very challenging if you happen to dip a chine at high speed. At the extreme range of control the boat gets bounced from chine to chine in wild oscillations just before the crew gets wet!

It is probable that your sail plan isn't perfectly balanced with your keel and rudder, (they seldom are) but avoid over simplifying the equation. Make sure the boat is sailed flat and in many different conditions before you assume that an alteration in your sails will solve the performance problem. You might try to experiment with your headstay length, or sail controls first. Try making the mainsail flatter and feathering the boat harder when you feel too much helm. If you are still convinced that you have a balance problem give me a ring next spring and we will go for a sail.

Downwind in very Heavy Air

Q)...As we surfed down waves I felt that we should have moved weight back. Should everyone be behind the shrouds in these conditions?


A)Downwind in very heavy air....(a little known J/24 secret) When ever the boat starts to get a little squirrelly move your weight aft. It isn't as fast, but it is remarkable how quickly you regain the sensation of control. Eventually you will have everyone but the spinnaker trimmer behind the helmsman. The trimmer will usually be whimpering about how heavy the sheet is, but keep on yelling at him. He won't really be able to trim the sheet, but don't let him know that you know that he can't hang on for much longer. He can ease it though. Sometimes a few feet of ease at just the right moment can save a wipe out. Eventually you will sluice down a giant wave and the trimmer will just barely be able to choke up a little more on the sheet. Just keep on calling him derogatory names and act like you are having the time of your life. This is one of the rare opportunities where he won't be able to talk back or loosen a hand to swing at you. I know... I have enjoyed both sides of the traveler. Epic days like this usually end with tired but smiling faces

In really heavy air it isn't really a game of perfect trim. It usually comes down to keeping the boat in control enough to sail a more direct course. In the really big blasts you will have to head up a little to keep the boat from death rolling, but make sure you dig low in the lulls so that you don't have to jibe as often. I have raced in plenty of races where there was so much wind that the vast majority of boats could not jibe. I have even won a few races where I could just barely keep the boat upright with all the crew behind me. I just blasted a little past the lay line then sent the lightest person forward to uncleat the Spin halyard. Once the spinnaker deflated the crew jumped forward and gathered it in. We then carefully jibed and jib reached the rest of the way to the mark, falling into hysterics as we watched the rest of the fleet attempt to jibe. They were rare occasions because it has to be extremely windy with relatively flat water to prevent good J/24 sailors from jibing. Most RCs cancel the race right around that wind velocity.

Downwind Performance and Surfing

Downwind performance is always a bit of a mystery. When you are fast you are never sure why, and when you are slow it is hard to find things to change. In flat water it all boils down to polars. It is a very subtle matter. There are not a lot of clews as to what your optimal angel and boat speed should be. Helmsmanship can be a factor, but if you are sailing similar angles and still can't keep up then you might think more along the lines of what your sails look like, how old and porous the spinnaker is, and how it is trimmed. I always say that I make the boat go fast upwind, but it is my trimmer that makes me fast downwind. Subtle trimming differences can generate huge gains.

In Kingston this year (CORK & the Canadian J/24 National Champs) we had a great breeze and lots of waves to work with. A great downwind leg consisted of 3-5 fantastic rides. One less ride was probably worth 6-15 boat lengths! It was hard work and you had to keep changing your apparent wind angle, but huge gains and losses occurred. When you did catch a wave you could dig very low, but it was important to head back up before the boat came off a plane. That way you could increase your odds of catching the next wave.

The most common mistake I see in these conditions is that people sail too low. I am sympathetic because we teach people to sail lower angles as the wind increases. However, it takes a lot to get a J/24 surfing. So if the waves are big enough and there is not quite enough wind to catch the waves at your low angle you can increase your boats power by heading up, sometimes rather dramatically. This is your throttle. You can then control to some extent when to give it that little extra kick to get surfing. A properly timed pump on the sheets can also help. It isn't a matter of pumping the sheet harder than the next guy, rather it is choosing just the right moment to jerk the boat free. It is a great feeling to surf by some muscle head who is madly fanning his sails and going nowhere.

The trick is to decide whether the extra distance you have to sail is worth the number of rides you can catch. It is stunning how much extra distance a boat can sail in these conditions and still pass boats. Sometimes you can chase waves all over the course and not catch enough to make it worth the extra distance. Sometimes boats can sail even higher angles and generate enough speed to sail up and over the backside of waves. Anytime you can sail faster than the waves you will get to the leeward mark faster no matter how much extra distance you have to sail. J/24's are fairly piggy about this "wave hopping" technique (or they usually cancel the race before it gets windy enough to find out) so it usually pays to sail as low as you can while you are surfing. Sometimes I will sail way by the lee during a surf, but I always try to head back up before the boat settles. There is tremendous temptation to sail too low especially when a boat right next to you "locks in" and extends multiple boat lengths forward and to leeward of you. Be patient and concentrate. Your turn will come if you keep searching for the right wave and the right angel.

I feel sorry for people who have never had the opportunity to experience body surfing on a sandy oceanic beach. I'm not talking about surfing with boards, fins, or anything so complicated as that. I mean placing yourself at exactly the point where the incline of the wave is steep enough to allow you, with the help of a strong kick, to start surfing down the face of a monster wave on nothing more than your bare chest! It is not an easy thing to achieve, but it is guaranteed to make even the lamest people break down into the deepest kind of belly laugh. It has an addictive quality. No matter how much sand gets packed into your ears, no matter how many times you get pummeled, no matter how many gallons of sea water you swallow you always end up begging the bathing beauties you came with for just "one more ride”. It is exactly the same knowing smile that I see on sailor's faces after a windy wavy day.

Performance

"You don't seem to be pointing very well". It evokes the same kind of response
that finger nails on a black board produce. The new unsuspecting crew member
who mutters this all too obvious observation usually receives a less than an enthusiastic response.

Anyone can point a boat higher into the wind, but you usually loose speed the higher you point. So a more useful discourse has to involve something which I prefer to call "performance". Performance is the end result of the delicate relationships between apparent wind angle, apparent wind speed, sail power, boat speed and ballast.

Lift and Drag
Every thing that effects your boat's performance can be expressed in terms of lift and drag. Whenever lift is produced drag is the natural consequence. They go together hand in hand. Fortunately for sailors and pilots alike, the ratio of lift to drag is not constant. It is possible to increase lift faster than drag, and vice versa. Understanding this relationship is not a prerequisite to enter a sailboat race, or to fly a plane, but comprehension goes a long way towards trouble shooting performance problems. Some great sailors have an intuitive grasp on how to make their boats perform, without ever understanding the concepts. They are in the minority, however, and it is very difficult to learn from them.

Keels
When you point your boat away from the wind the angle of attack of the keel decreases. That means both lift and drag are reduced. Less drag enables the boat to speed up. The increased speed forces more water over the keel which in turn increases lift without a significant increase in drag. In this case the ratio of lift to drag changes. More lift and less drag enhances performance. For many it is counter intuitive to head down in order to gain progress to windward.

Too Low
There is a limit to how fast your boat will go however. Drag increases exponentially with boat speed . So there is a point depending on boat speed where lower angles will not significantly decrease drag. At top speed you will have similar drag no matter what direction you point (unless you can plane). As you approach this point upwind performance declines the lower you sail.

Too High
If you turn towards the wind the angle of attack of the keel increases. Eventually the flow across the windward side of your keel starts to break up, or stall. A stalled foil quickly looses lift and dramatically increases drag. Boat speed drops which further provokes stall. Performance radically degenerates at too high an angle.

The Groove
Most sailors have a intuitive notion of a "groove" when sailing up wind. Whether they understand the concept or not, a good helmsperson is better at keeping the keel's angle of attack between the two extremes. In light to moderate wind speeds great sailors are able to keep their keels closer to the "verge of stall" usually without ever letting them stall. The verge of stall is the point where maximum lift is found. Rudder angle is the primary indicator for monitoring the lift of your keel.

Sails
Sails provide power by creating lift and drag. We can alter the sail's lift to drag ratios through sail controls .

Light air
In light air the goal is to maximize lift and minimize drag. Simply put, deeper sails tend to create lift faster then they do drag, but if they get too deep the leeward aft edges start to stall. We monitor this stall with leech tell tails and visual clews such as distance off the spreader, and top batten angle. Increasing the angle of attack such as raising the traveler or sheeting the Genoa also increases lift faster than drag, but if you go too far the wind will strike the leading edge of the sail at too wide an angle and the leading edge will start to stall. In light to moderate air the best sail trimmers are very good at keeping their sails at the verge of stall.

Heel
Lift generated by upwind sails are not directly opposed to the lift generated by the keel. The degree that they are not directly opposed to each other is vectored into forward motion and determines the angle of attack the keel experiences. As the wind increases there comes a point where the opposition of these forces create heel. Too much heel is disastrous to performance for a multitude of reasons, but let it suffice that too much heel increases drag and reduces lift in both keels and sails. It is natures way of equalizing the forces.

Reducing Heel
Centerboard boats can reduce heel by reducing their exposed underwater surfaces. Keel boats have no such flexibility. Heel has to be controlled through minimizing the lift and drag that the sails produce. As it turns out flat sails reduce lift and drag fairly effectively. Decreasing the angle of attack also reduces both lift and drag. A flogging sail however, creates almost no lift at all, but it generates an enormous amount of drag. Great sail trimmers are able to flatten their sails and maintain an appropriate angle of attack, but they rarely if ever let their sails flog. Their goal is to minimize drag and maintain the appropriate amount of lift suitable to the boat's ballast.

Feathering
As it gets windier the force of the sails continues to overcome the boat's ballast. Instead of lift pushing the boat abeam to leeward the drag becomes more influential. Drag wants to push the boat aft and to leeward which is the same as increasing the angle of attack of the keel. Somehow the excessive lift of the keel has to be relieved in order to control heel. Great helmspeople can feather their keels at extreme angles of attack so that a portion of the windward side of their keel becomes stalled. Too much stall and speed will diminish too far. Not enough lift will be produced and the bow will drop off to leeward. The sails will then power up and overpower the ballast. The boat will then spin back up into the wind. The result is a series of minor broaches as the boat cycles through successive stalls and overpowerments.

A Delicate Balance
Great sailors maintain a steady angle of heal in overpowering conditions because they monitor how much of the keel is stalled and the distribution of power across the sails. They concentrate on rudder angle and heel. If the keel wants to lift too much they experience too much rudder angle. The boat wants to climb into the wind. If they don't intervene by easing the main the rudder will stall and the broach cycle starts anew. If they ease the mainsail too much the boat is thrown out of balance and the jib pulls the bow to leeward. The cycle starts again. If the keel begins to loose too much lift they sense it early because the rudder suddenly feels mushy. They can then ease the sails quickly and head off to reattach the flow around the keel. In extremely heavy air great sailors are constantly adjusting their sails trying to maintain delicate balance over a partially stalled keel. The groove becomes almost impossibly narrow because the immense forces on the keel and sails transform the rudder into an increasingly impotent tool. Team work is put to the test as changes in course become impossible without corresponding sail adjustments.

Geoff Moore
Shore Sails Ltd.
401-849-7700

Geoff - I'm having withdrawls on the tips! How about weight placement? As did many, I've came from Dinghy sailing, and am always surprised when people think of the J24 as a "big boat", and don't balance the boat. What's your preferred crew placement, particuarly downwind?

Doug Schenk
#3837 - Free Bowl of Soup

A J/24 sailor asks:
I noticed in the J/24 rules that there is some latitude in where one mounts
there jib/genoa tracks. There is somewhere in the neighborhood of .5 - .75
inches inboard/outboard variance allowed. I don't have my book in front of
me now so I can't tell you the exact amount. Any thoughts about how to use
this to your advantage? Very simple thinking might lead you to believe -
move them outboard if you sail primarily in the heavy wind/wave conditions,
inboard for light/flat water stuff. What are your thoughts?


My reply:
Moving the leads inboard will increase the angle of attack on the lower portion of your Genoa only. You can further increase the angle of attack on the lower Genoa by using longer shackles under the Genoa lead ratchet blocks. Increased angle of attack amplifies both lift and drag. If it were to work we would be increasing lift faster than drag. I have done some extensive sail development with this concept, but to be honest the impact of increasing the sheeting angle was not very impressing. The standard J/24 sheeting angle +/- a half an inch must be fairly close to optimum. Since we generally set our fairleads relative to the chainplates and spreader tip, small differences in sheeting angle do not have a noticeable impact on performance.

The angle of attack of the upper portion of the sail is more important and it is dependant mostly on sheet tension. We know that the optimum angle of attack on the top of the sail is somewhat wider than the standard spreader length. If it weren't then all the tuning guides would be recommending that we cut our spreaders to the minimum length and we sheet the Genoa in until the sail touches the spreader. That just isn't the case. 1.5" - 2" off the spreader tip depending on Genoa depth seems to be the limit of Genoa trim.

I would make sure that the Genoa track is close to maximum inboard allowed and that they are symmetrical. Some people have done a lot of work with barber-hauling the Genoa lead outboard in heavy air, but the increased friction of using a barber-hauler makes it harder to tack well. If you are from a windy place you might want to be further outboard and then switch to a long shackled fairlead in light air, but my experience is that any difference will be extremely subtle.

Geoff Moore
Shore Sails Ltd.
7 Merton Road
Newport, RI 02840
401-849-7700
fax) 401-849-7952
gmoore@shoresails.com
www.shoresails.com
========================================

Main trim

A lake sailor asks:


I sheet in the main until the top batten is
parallel with the boom, bring it up to centerline with the traveler and
then notice that I could sheet in a whole lot more. Everyone I talk to
says, sheet in the J24 hard for pointing. So when I do so and the top
batten hooks 5-10 degrees to weather. The old main allows me to
sheet in just as hard, but the leach stays open and I don't have to
bring the traveler up as far to center the boom. My question
is this: which shape should give me the better pointing ability, a
slight hook to weather or not? In my conditions, isn't pointing higher
more important than more power? I tend to have more boat speed than
others but like I said can't quite point with them. I have my shrouds
adjusted to 23 on the lowers and 27 on the uppers. I tend to
think that is a good overall setting for the conditions. I'll loosen
them a bit if we expect a drifter, and harden up if it is blowing.


My response:

Let me break it down into a few different areas.

Main trim, or more specifically top batten versus sheet tension.

There is an important correlation between the depth of the main sail and the amount of sheet tension you can use. A flatter mainsail will require more sheet tension in order to hold the top batten parallel. A fuller mainsail will close down the top batten fairly quickly. (older mains usually gain depth as they age) Once you understand that concept you can try to imagine sails with various depths at different heights. For example a main sail that is very flat up top will allow you to use a lot of sheet tension in order to get the top batten to trim up, however the lower leech might close down too fast. Conversely, if the top of the sail is too full you won't be able to properly trim the lower sections without stalling the top batten. Now think about how your backstay adjustment affects the depth of your mainsail. Consider also your pre-bend.

Angle of attack.

While it is true that J/24's perform better with a tighter leech compared to many other "normal boats", the information is not new and many people have a tendency to over do it. The reason a J/24 enjoys a tighter mainsail leech is because the keel is too far aft. A little kick in the mainsail leech can help bring the boat back into balance and give the rudder a little more feel. The problem with trimming up the mainsail, or increasing the angle of attack is that the maximum power you can achieve with the mainsail comes just before the leech stalls. Once it stalls power drops off precipitously. That is why my sails come with leech tell tails. They serve as great indicators as to when the leech stalls. In flat water and steady wind when it is easy to drive you can get very precise with mainsail trim. The top batten tell tail might start flicking in and out indicating that the sail is on "the Verge of stall" ( the single most important concept in sailing). In very light air and fluky conditions the weight of the boom can close the leech down too fast if the mainsail is too full. Usually with light air come subtle changes in wind velocity across the racecourse. These variations can rapidly change your apparent wind angle faster than you have the ability to steer to. So in that condition you might not want to trim the main as precisely. Back off a little from the "verge of stall". Sacrifice a little ultimate performance in order to maintain flow across leeward side of the sail. I see many, many people sailing in light air (0-6 knots) with their leech trimmed much too critically. They have moments of excellent performance, but they can't maintain it. When it is light air and very bumpy the top of the main can stall very easily, so that is another area where you might want to back off a little.

VMG (velocity made good)

VMG is a simple relationship between boat speed and apparent wind angle. The higher and faster you go the better the VMG. Two boats can have equal VMGs but point very different angles. For example a boat sailing low and fast might get to the windward mark at the same time as a boat sailing high and slow. The interesting thing about this concept with respect to J/24's is that J/24's have fairly fat keels that generate a lot of drag. They also develops a lot of lift. Lift is good, so most top J/24 sailors have found that when they are moving about as fast as a J/24 will go the only reasonable way to better your VMG is to sail higher, often to the point where the front of the jib starts to back. So if you find that you are fast, but low the first thing to experiment with is turning the boat higher into the wind. The groove will be much narrower as you trim the sails in tighter, but you should increase VMG as long as you can avoid stalling any of the foils above or below the water. Low and slow is usually a symptom of stall somewhere.




Geoff Moore
Shore Sails Ltd.
7 Merton Road
Newport RI 02840
401-849-7700
f)401-849-7952
www.shoresails.com
========================================

Andrew from Nova Scotia asks;

"Geoff
The mains that I had before all had a stationary tack, where this one has a floating tack. Does the new Shore main require a small amount of cunningham tension all of time, or are those horizontal wrinkles supposed to be there all of the time in light air?"


Hi Andrew,
Floating tacks have been a standard on most J/24 mains for many years now. The reason for this is that there are a few variations of J/24 booms, all with different tack set backs. A floating tack, or a tack slug, means we don't have to customize every J/24 mainsail that we make. One size fits all...

I seem to read in your message that you are using the wrinkles in your luff as a measure for the amount of Cunningham adjustment. A better measure is to determine the position of the maximum draft in the main sail, and try to set your Cunningham to place the maximum draft position at the 50% point. Tensioning the Cunningham will pull the maximum draft position forward. Adding backstay will shift it aft.

As the sail ages the boltrope shrinks and you will have to use more and more Cunningham. Sometimes it shrinks so much you don't have enough purchase in the Cunningham to pull the luff tight. In that case the stitching in the boltrope can be cut, the tension released, and then the boltrope can be stitched back to the sail. When the sail is new it is sometimes difficult to get the Cunningham to release enough because there is so little elasticity in a new boltrope.

Geoff Moore
Shore Sails Ltd.
7 Merton Road
Newport, RI 02840
401-849-7700
fax) 401-849-7952
gmoore@shoresails.com
www.shoresails.com

It was a Thursday night race. We've turned around for a shoe overboard in a Thursday night race.

I wonder if you had any doubts in your mind about whether to turn around or not. .. finish the race or $500… I wouldn’t turn around for a hat, but a new spinn pole???… I guess it depends on the race. Actually if you have a spare pole it is a good idea to keep it on board as part of your optional equipment list. Of course if you loose it you could be protested, but I have never heard of that happening. Poles can break for many reasons

Yes, if you don’t clip the topinglift onto the pole you do have to make sure that the foredeck stows it properly or hangs on to it. I am not sure how much of a rock star you have to be though. Maybe if your foredeck gave you a deposit of say $250 to rent your pole they would think twice before they let go of it. Sorry for the sarcasm, but I have had the same thing happen and it has become a source of ribbing amongst our crew. I doubt it will ever happen to the same foredeck twice.

You might try taking the pole down well in advance, and training your fifth crew to act as “a human pole”.

Geoff,
Thanks for the spin pole tips, but I have one question: With the method that you recommend, what do you use to keep the pole aboard, other than a rock-star bowman? When my new tapered pole arrived, we switched to the system you describe, and in the chaos of the first leeward mark rounding, the brand-new $500 spinnaker pole went overboard. It floated long enough for us to sail back down through the fleet and rescue it, but we went back to putting the topping lift in the jaws on the turnbuckle and never tried the other way again. Any suggestions?

Toping lift and pole

There are two methods of handling the spinnaker pole. One is to leave the topinglift on the pole and then clip it into the jaws along with the turnbuckle when the pole is stowed. This way the toping lift is never removed from the pole. The other method, the preferred, is to leave the topinglift on the mast. The pole is then set by the following steps.

1) Unhook the pole from the turnbuckle.
2) Slide the pole aft and lift the middle of the pole towards the spinnaker pole ring.
3) Clip it to the topinglift. (the topinglift remains cleated so that the pole can hang there. There should also be a clip on the topinglift that can be operated with one hand)
4) If the guy is not already in the pole end then swing the pole aft and rotate the outboard end down and hook the guy in. (sometimes we don’t put the guy in the pole because we suspect that we might “set without a pole”) Be Careful to avoid whacking the crew with the pole.
5) Swing the pole out and clip it to the mast.

If you leave the topinglift attached to the pole then the lazy jib sheet has to be long enough to go over the pole and in front of the topinglift when the pole is raised. That adds a few extra feet of jib sheet in the cockpit the rest of the time. If your rodeo guy is like most of the cockpit crew I have sailed with then they probably have a rope phobia.

Another difficulty with leaving the topinglift attached to the pole is that when the pole is removed at the leeward mark the entire pole has to be brought back so that the pole can be put under the jib sheets. That adds time to the dowse and it is a little dangerous for the crew. You could lift the jib sheet over the pole every time you jibe, but most people feel that this is too awkward. It gets especially complicated when you have to throw in a few hasty jibes right at the mark. If you still want to stick to this method it is probably a good idea to have an extra long topinglift. That way if you get into a pinch the foredeck can stow the pole with the topinlift over the jib sheets, If it is long enough, and uncleated, you can still trim the Genoa with the topinglift around the leech.

A few other tips:

Many people prefer an expensive tapered pole with the topinglift attached directly to the center of the pole. I like to use a non-tapered pole with a bridle. This allows for a much lighter pole. The bridle makes it very strong, and it will not pivot as easily when it is hanging from a bridle. This makes the jibes noticeably smoother. The bridle is a little awkward when setting the pole, but I feel it is worth the price.

It is very common to have a great jibe fall to pieces when the pole is attached back onto the mast. The trigger line “bow and arrows” and opens both ends. You want both ends open when you start the jibe, but you don’t want to open the outboard end when you are putting the pole back on the mast. Most foredeck blame the poor jibe on a malfunction with the pole. The solution is to add a small lanyard directly on the piston of each end. If you use the lanyard when attaching the pole to the mast there is no way the outboard end can open.

When the command to “loose the pole” is given the first thing that should happen is that the topinglift should be uncleated. That way it will reach the spinnaker pole ring. Remember to recleat it during the windward leg.

Bowpeople-- If you tie a knot in your spinnaker pole toping lift about 11 feet up from the hook you will never loose the toping lift. You might have to step on the boom in order to reach it, but it will never go to the top. You will also have plenty of adjustment to raise the pole higher than you will ever need.

Light air

When the wind drops below eight knots our game changes dramatically. The random element increases. Sometimes teams with limited skills manage to pull off a spectacular result. Other times world champion sailors find themselves in embarrassing situations. Lots of people give up and attribute their poor result to bad luck. That is a mistake!

I don’t find light air all that stimulating. It is hard to get enthusiastic about endless hours of tedious concentration and unbearable discomfort. The only saving grace is that there are skills involved... most of the time. The frustrating thing about light air is that the wind can change much faster and further away than you have the means to react to it. Even though you may be the first boat to see a developing puff way off in the distance you are usually traveling at such a slow rate of speed that there is nothing you can do about it. A long-range strategic plan is critical for light air success. Paying attention to weather patterns, or being tuned in to geographical or local factors pays huge dividends in light air.

The first thing you might notice about light air sailing is that tacking and gibing angles are extremely wide. Why?… We will get to that a little later. The important thing is that wide angles impact the game. Take the start for example. When you are sailing very low angles you are pointing fairly close to the leeward boat’s windward quarter. The lower a boat points the greater the distance you need to leeward in order to avoid being pinched off. This has the effect of making the line appear shorter than it actually is. Boats that start in the middle of the line usually have to sail much slower because they have to "pinch or die". The boat that wins the pin, or the boat that tacks off at the boat, can sometimes double the performance of the mid-line boats. That is why some boats in light air gain a huge lead very quickly. They can perform optimally while the rest of the fleet has to wait until a lane dominoes open on port tack. Sometimes the entire front row will end up on port tack shortly after the start. This happens because no one can make starboard tack "stick". The only good starts are those boats that are able to tack and cross, and the boat that wins the pin.

Some sailing scholars attribute the "picket fence" theory as the reason why boats at either end of the line make initial gains. The theory suggests that a crowded starting line acts like a snow fence and the breeze lifts up over the fleet allowing the boats that start at the ends to squirt. There may be some truth to it, but it is a very old theory and I think there is some room for more practical thinking. Whatever the theory, the middle of the line is usually not a good choice in light air. I hope only my friends and relatives take notice because as word gets out the price of seating gets proportionally higher as you approach the ends. I wouldn't want to do anything to inflate the price. It is already crowded at the ends so don’t tell anyone else…


Many people have heard the term "hull speed", but few people really know what it means, or why it is important. I am sure I don't fully understand all the connotations, but this is the way I comprehend it. Imagine you are standing on a motor boat holding onto a towline attached to a J/24. The motor boat accelerates to 1 knot. Let’s say the pressure on the towline is about 25 pounds. You can still hold onto it. Now the motor boat accelerates to double the speed. You are now moving at 2 knots. The load on the towline increases to about 80 pounds. That is more than twice the load, even though the motor boat has only doubled the speed. Now the motor boat accelerates to 4 knots. By now you will have developed a new respect for the guy who usually hangs onto your spinnaker sheet in heavy air. The load on the towline has increased exponentially! Eventually something weird happens when the boat starts to plane, (by now I hope you have let go) but this article is about light air so that doesn't concern us here. The bottom line is that it takes more and more energy to increase a boat's speed the faster it is going. So in light air it only takes a very small increase in wind to double a boat's performance. If you think about it you have probably noticed that in light air the first boat to get to a puff can sometimes double or triple the speed of any other boat. That just doesn't happen in heavier air. A big puff in heavy or moderate air will only increase your speed by a few tenths of a knot.

This is why the angles get so wide in light air. Even though it may seem that you are moving very slow you are actually moving very efficiently relative to the wind speed. A J/24 might have 2 knots of boat speed in 5 knots of wind. It doesn’t take a lot of energy to push a J/24 up to 2 knots. The faster a boat travels relative to the wind the further forward the apparent wind gets. As the apparent wind moves forward your tell tails lift and you have to bear off. Hence the wide angles.

On the other extreme a J/24 might have 4.5 knots of boat speed in 20 knots of wind. It takes a huge increase in energy to make a J/24 accelerate from 4 to 4.5 knots. The lack of efficiency means that the J/24 can not move fast enough to drag the apparent wind forward. The result is that in twenty knots of wind the boat points extremely high.

Remember that the next time an Etchels sailor brags about how high his boat points. The reason his boat points so high is because it is so slow! It is a relative thing. America’s cup class yachts sail at very disappointing angles because they are so fast.

Interesting topic, but not very useful…

If you understand the concept then it should be easy to understand why the puffs are more important than the shifts in light air. Who cares if you pick up a small shift compared to the possibility of going three times faster than any other boat! I will happily sail in headers all day if I can go that much faster. The same applies to clear air. It is extremely important, and difficult, to find clear air when the breeze is failing. Wider angles also mean fewer available lanes.

Downwind jibing angles are also very wide for the same reasons sighted above. As the fleet spreads out downwind it is tough for the leaders to find a clear lane. They usually have to accept huge risks, sailing way out towards the lay lines in order to maximize clear air. This makes them vulnerable to small puffs. Even very small puffs can enable you to sail much lower downwind angles, so it is common for people to get caught overstood, or being passed by numerous boats on the opposite side of the race course.

Another interesting point about racing in light air is that the wide angles reduce the effect of wind shifts. The higher a boat points the more important it is to stay in phase with the wind shifts. The wider the angle the less gain or loss in a shift. The result is that it is often better to sail through a shift in light air rather than tack twice. This in turn increases the risk factor because tacking fewer times means sailing closer to the lay lines.

Finally, light air usually comes with flat water. This makes driving relatively easy.
A higher percentage of the fleet will perform well. Talented drivers can't rely on superior speed to get them out of difficult situations.

Only one boat can win any given race. The numerous factors that determine the winner are beyond human comprehension, but developing your personal knowledge and skill will help you get lucky.

Geoff, Thanks for your articles. As an Australian J24 skipper I look forward to reading them.

The following is my account of J24 sailing from the eyes of a novice skipper and boat owner.

I purchased my J24 when I was 28 years old having never even been sailing before!

My first season of steering and racing at Lake Macquarie Yacht Club in Newcastle Australia was scary to say the least.

Coming dead last consistently is a great leveller, and I found it difficult to attract crew. This problem was compounded by the fact that I was an incompetent sailor to say the least.

Chinese jibing my new investment in 25 knots was terrifying and in my panic the crew took the brunt.

Despite these setbacks I remained intrigued by the utter complexity of the sport. Like many novice skippers I spent nights awake and days dreaming about how to make the boat work, and what went wrong on the track.

Surprisingly that first season we came 14th in the Australian National Titles out of a fleet of 35.

In my second season I moved to Sydney for work.

Having broached, jibed, and laid the boat over in every conceivable manner, my confidence as a skipper grew. Likewise attending regattas and being yelled at by the hot shots made me more determined. What does not kill you will only make you stronger!

My Sydney harbour season was very enjoyable. We became a "mid fleet" boat and even won a race!

As for my crew I toned down my panic, and forced myself to shut up. Not surprising everyones' confidence and enjoyment levels increased.

I am now sailing in my third season. This time I am in Melbourne (again for work), sailing from Sandringham yacht club.

I now have my third crew, all novices again.

We came second in a heat of this years Australian Nationals, which for a novice is like winning the world championship, or walking on the moon! Crossing the line with the fleet behind us, and beating the experts was so sweet.

From my persepctive one design sailing is the most difficult sport I have every encountered. That is why I love it.

Success requires an ability to combine an understanding of water conditions, current, boat set up, sail trim, rig set up, hardware configuration and maintenance. Add to that strategy and tactics, trying to lead a crew, and the bloody rules and you have a sport that can maintain a life time interest.

Regards

Ben Wicks

Confidence

I am amazed at the number of excuses I come up with why I don’t always win: bad luck, inferior equipment, poor crew work, poor race committee, poor protest committee, a collision. All these things happen, but they seem to happen more often to some people than to others. Excuses allow us to shed blame. No one wants to believe that their cognitive process is flawed, so we sometimes create stories to sooth our egos. The victors claim superior human intellect, and the losers seek any other explanation.

One design racing eliminates the age-old excuse of blaming the naval architect, but we still find plenty of other things to blame. Next in line is usually the sailmaker, then the guy who faired the keel, then it almost always falls onto the shoulders of the crew. We have all had the unpleasant experience of having an inexperienced skipper try to shed blame by spouting off profanity in our general direction. Unfortunately this is all too common. Seemingly kind individuals can turn into raging lunatics out on the racecourse. No one is immune to the dreaded “skippers disease”. There are so many decisions to make and there are so many distractions that it is easy to see why it happens. Great sailors eventually realize that excuses, no matter how believable, or how soothing are not to be internalized. They are useful because they fend off psychotic episodes, but every failure has a lesson in it. Some people will never recognize the benefit of failure, but I am confident that great sailors did not learn their craft by wining every race. Good athletes get better by recognizing their mistakes and then taking steps to insure they will not be repeated. All it takes is a commitment to practice your weak points. We usually find it enjoyable to perform tasks we are good at, but it is much more productive to spend time on the areas that we are least comfortable with.


Making a sailboat perform in a straight line is a very complicated task. At any given moment there are dozens of decisions to make. Are my tell tails lifting too much? Is the boat too flat? Why is my rudder so neutral? Am I moving the tiller too much? I wonder if I can trim my jib a little? Is the boom centered? How do I handle this next set of waves? The list goes on and on. Eventually most people master the art of sailing fast in at least one condition. Before the start of every race I usually try to test my speed by sailing upwind against other boats. I am amazed at how many competitors are really fast. Once the surface gets a little bumpy, or the wind kicks up the number of fast boats usually drops. That is because the number of decisions the skipper has to make increases. It takes more concentration, but even in the most challenging of conditions there are still plenty of really fast competitors.

But what happens to all these fast boats during the race? Occasionally they get off the line well, and sometimes they make it to the first mark in good shape, but then they usually fade. Relative to driving a boat fast, tactics are a fairly simple matter. It is merely a series of binary decision. Do I go straight, or do I turn now? It only gets complicated because these simple decisions are cumulative. Good sailors build great races by stacking correct choices on top of each other. The ability to make correct choices is much more daunting if you fear the consequences. Being able to perform under pressure boils down to confidence, that elusive least understood of human emotions.

The difficulty starts sometime in early adolescence. That is when self-doubt first enters our consciousness. As we grow older it usually fades, but whenever we feel out of place or uncomfortable it returns. In many respects learning to be a better sailor is about learning to overcome self-doubt. Confidence with out skill is the stuff of every yacht club bar room across North America. It is easy to be brave when you are belly up to the bar, but knowing that you have the ability to get out in front and stay there is a rare and precious quality. The way to improve your sailing skills is to spend constructive time on the water. Confidence usually builds with increased skill, but there are plenty of very talented athletes that don’t perform well under pressure. Whenever I get together with a good collegiate sailor they almost always attribute their success to having superior confidence. They can’t tell you why they feel confident, or why others don’t, but they are sure that their confidence enables them to make better choices. I find it interesting that they usually attribute great skill to their fellow competitors, yet they pin point confidence as the quality that distinguishes them. It may sound like so much psychobabble, but I was surprised to learn how large a roll that sports-psychologists are playing in our sport. Our Olympic hopefuls have a team psychologist, as do many of our nation's top sailors. There seems to be a growing awareness that if we can learn to control our emotions we can better our results.

This game of ours is infinitely complex. There are so many different levels in which it is played. Every time I begin to feel comfortable about a new concept another challenge erupts. Understanding and potentially altering the human ego is a very worthy challenge. If you are successful you will not only become a better sailor, you will probably be better person.


send me an E-mail if you would like to be on my list.

This went out to my e-mail list about a month ago. I have received so many requests to resend it I thought I would post it here.

A day in the life of a J/24

There is at least one J/24 laid up for the winter in your local boat yard. It is a common enough sight, not the kind of attraction that most people notice. You won’t find it parked out front next to the Farr 40’s, OD35’s or the Melges 24’s. It will probably be parked out back quietly sitting on a partially rusted trailer, neatly tucked between an Alberg 23 and a Catalina 30. It is a lonely sight, a sight that might lead you to believe that the great racing legacy of the J/24 is over. But you would be wrong.

At the first hint of spring a late model Suburban backs up to the J/24 trailer. The door opens and the owner walks around back and pops open the gate. He pushes the baby -seat aside and fumbles around looking for a piece of cloth to wipe the winter grime off his J/24’s bottom. His pants are covered with speckles of latex paint left over from painting the garage last weekend. As he works he tries to remember where to position his mast butt. He first wipes down the bow, then the waterline saving the flat spot just aft of the keel for last. That part always makes his back ache. When he’s done he stands back and admires the smooth fair surfaces. No excuses there, he thinks to himself as he connects the trailer to the suburban. The money he spent five years ago on a professional keel, and bottom job was worth every penny. A quick check of the tie down straps and he’s off to the first event of the season. It’s a short drive, but he wants to get there early so that he and his crew have time to catch up with old friends.


As he drives past the travel lift he slows to avoid a small crowd of boat people, yard
workers, and spectators who have assembled for the commissioning of the newest
of off-shore-one-designs. It is easy to pick out the owner. He is about ten years
older wearing fowl weather gear that still shows the factory pressed folds from the boutique he bought them at yesterday. He is trying to feel comfortable with his latest purchase. The professionals buzz around the boat tightening this and polishing that. The owner does not want to get in the way. So he stands there and watches, a little awkward, a little uncertain, not quite smiling. There is a PHRF race this weekend. He bought this boat because it is a one-design, but the first of the two one design regattas he will attend this year isn’t until next month, and the boat has to be trucked over a thousand miles away for that. If things turn out well there will be eight boats.

Our suburban circumvents the spectacle without attracting so much as a glance
from the crowd. A few hours later it arrives at the regatta site with its ten-year-old J24 in tow. It is met with the customary waves and solutes of friends and acquaintances. The crew is there to help untie the boat. Most of them have been able to sneak out of work early on this Friday afternoon, but the foredeck person could not. He will arrive much later this evening. New arrivals and their obligatory welcomes occasionally interrupt the work. They are always happy to help another team step their mast because they will need the favor returned later. The topic of discussion eventually turns towards crew weight. “The scale seems to be a little heavy” someone mentions. A short silence follows as they size each other up. “Better skip lunch and diner until the whole crew weights in” the skipper announces. There is a communal grown. When the foredeck arrives the boat is rigged and ready to race. They march as a team toward the registration desk. With hearts full of trepidation they line up to be weighed. Shirts, belts, wallets, shoes, eyeglasses, anything that might tip the scale against them is shed before the dreaded physicians scale. They hold their breath still dressed in nothing but boxers as the female volunteer tallies the weights. Two pounds to spare! High fives all round as they make there way quickly towards the free pizza and beer. Spouses, kids, and baby sitters start to arrive. The atmosphere is friendly. There is a great shaking of hands. Old timers, newcomers, and professionals mix with eager anticipation of tomorrow’s race. The party slowly dwindles as most head back to their housing for a full nights rest. A few of the younger teams remain in a futile attempt to empty the beer truck of its precious cargo. Eventually even the most dedicated abandon their task and head off to bed.

The morning is cold with a brisk wind, reminiscent of the season recently endured. The first crews arrive at daybreak for some last minute tweaking and tuning. They notice a few more boats have complemented the fleet’s number during the night. Their crews hastily slurping steaming hot stimulates as they rush to get their boats wet. More and more teams arrive. The mood is somber, no kidding around now. This is serious business. Everyone wants to give it their all. Mumbled discussion about current and forecasts saturate the air. Shrouds are twanged, masts are sighted, and sails are bent on. “Looks like our old rival bought a new set of sails over the winter” the tactician notices. The owner looks down shaking his head and shuffling his feet. A loud bang! Coffee, spills and heads duck as the harbor start echoes across the parking lot. Thirty-some-odd outboards, new and old, sputter to life.

The race committee boat at anchor bobs and rolls as each team sails by on starboard tack to announce their presence. Sail numbers are shouted. Somebody's mother, in a director’s chair, clipboard in hand, answers the shout with a smile and a slight wave of the hand. The stern faced chairman stares into the wind talking confidently into a microphone. About a mile or so to windward the mark-boat drops its load and heads back toward the gathering. Guns and flags! There is a deafening flutter of sails before the final report. The first race of the season is underway!

It isn't the new sails, or the custom keel job that determines the day’s heroes, although every little bit helps. It is the strained lifelines, the groaning bodies, and the finesse of the helmsperson that is tested. Victory is squeezed slowly and painfully out of every square wave, and every missed winch. Nylon demons thin the ranks at every opportunity. The race marches on, cruelly, mercilessly, until the unruly mob finally finds order at the finish line. The flood of emotion is overwhelming. For some it is the exhilaration of surviving their first J/24 race, or maybe its the sound and smell of gunpowder for the victors. Others fight off frustration and insult, vowing to do better next time.

By late afternoon the wet, and weary throng turn their bows toward the harbor, bodies draped over the lifelines like laundry. Some huddle in the cramp spaces below deck for a short snooze, a content expression on everyone’s face. As the fleet enters the harbor and begin to form small rafts, the rubberized outer layers of clothing are peeled. The sun warms the steaming bodies as someone arrives with a tray laden with plastic cups filled to the brims with golden liquid. Wide smiles and laughter is everywhere.

The pasta dinner is delicious. Young children gather in small groups and play games that only they understand. Adolescents practice their flirting skills, and everyone else gestures with hands at improbable angles. In another part of the club old and new rivals play out emotional dramas in front of a jury. Scores are posted and there is a great rush to see in print what they already know to be true. A more organized assault on the beer truck is underway. Late in the evening just when it seems that victory is at hand a new keg is tapped and even the heartiest are vanquished.

Early the next afternoon the last boat crosses the line. The fat lady has sung. The visiting boats are hauled and the awards are dispensed. Photos are taken. Plans are made, and eventually good byes are shared. Our suburban returns to the yard. The J/24 is parked next to the Catalina. Someone has made progress stripping its bottom paint over the weekend, but there is still a lot more to go. It is hard to concentrate on work Monday morning. Phone calls and emails carry reciprocal thank-you’s.

The sailing magazines don’t wrap their contents with color pictures of J/24s anymore. Their advertisers are happier with more extravagant vessels. New J/24’s are rare. They aren’t the fastest, the most comfortable, or the least expensive of one designs, but most weekends all across North America, and in many places throughout the world there is a J/24 event with a larger than average number of entries. So it should come as no surprise that the greatest sailors on earth have learned their craft from the people who sail J/24s.

Geoff Moore is an owner of Shore Sails Ltd. In Newport RI
To get on his e-mail list drop him a note at gmoore@shoresails.com

The following is an exchange between a new client and myself about how best to sail a J/24 with a blade. Spending lots of time sailing is the only way I know of to get better, but this kind of discussion can help make sense of how best to use your practice time. Anyone who wants to get on my email list can drop me a note: Gmoore@shoresails.com.

QUESTION:"…it seemed that I was not pointing as well. (Conditions were light chop and 13-15 steady with gusts to 25 and everyone was sailing with 100's). I was a little faster but still not quite as good net. I was struggling a bit steering to the new blade because of the radically different look from my vintage blade but I want to make sure that I am not missing anything else. I assume that my old main is contributing to this problem.

Maybe I wasn't pinching up as much as the other guys. Any insight as to what you do generally in these conditions. Do you pinch up through the puffs with a little ease of the sails or do you keep on course and balance the boat? I need some confirmation that my strategy is OK."

MY RESPONCE:13-25knots is an extremely wide range, but it is probably fairly typical of an inland lake.

It is very difficult to judge wind strength without instruments. 13-15
knots sounds way too light to have a blade up, and 25 knots is ferocious for a Genoa. What you perceive to be 13 knots might conger up a different mental image to me, so lets keep that in mind as we go forward. At 13 knots you are on the verge of taking people off the rail, at fifteen you have everyone on the rail and you are using medium backstay with a full Genoa. 15 is probably the most pleasant wind strength for a J/24.

So if 13-25 is truly the wind range, then you will have to adjust gears quickly between being vastly under-powered and grossly over-powered. Conventional wisdom among top sailors is that you are better off slogging your way through the puffs with too much sail as opposed to struggling through the lulls with too little. Headsail choice is a very interesting topic, but lets save the details for later. You chose the blade, so lets start by examining your set up.

You will want the ability to make the blade as powerful as possible in the lulls. That means a moderate setting on the shrouds, about 26 and 25, or looser. During the lulls you will want the backstay all the way off. This will sag the headstay, which in turn will push too much bag into the front of the blade. The max draft location will be way too far forward. It might be only a few inches from the headstay. The cure is to ease the halyard until the max draft moves back to about 33%. Don’t get too precise. You will know when the sail starts to look better. There will be noticeable sag between the hanks when the draft position is correct. (Remember this is unusually light air for a blade) Set your jib lead so that the leech of the jib is about 2" inside the spreader and the foot of the jib is on the verge of becoming tensioned. Trim the main so that the boom is on centerline and the top batten is stalling about 40-60% of the time. This is your maximum power mode. You will probably find that it is better to keep both tell tails streaming because you are maximizing your available power. Pinching usually does not work when you are power starved.

Prior to feeling the effects of the puff you should start pulling power out of the rig via the backstay. If the puff catches you off guard and you get slammed, then bail out on the backstay adjustment and focus on the two major tools you have to shed power: steering the boat higher into the wind (feathering) and dumping the mainsheet. The absolute priority is to keep the boat flat. Too many people get caught trying to pull the backstay at the expense of driving well. They heel too much and slide sideways. Backstay adjustment is a finesse tool, 600 grit sandpaper. Mainsheet and feathering are for grunt work, 24 grit on a disk grinder.

The effect of a 25-knot puff in combination with a tightened backstay will dramatically change the way your sails look. The main should be as flat as it will get. (Older mainsails are much more difficult to “blade out” in heavy air, and they tend to get too deep up top for light air.) The cunningham will have to be pulled tight. The main will be on the verge of developing ugly over-bend wrinkles. That is your indicator to stop pulling on the backstay. You will also want some vang because the top batten will be out too far, and it might be hard to keep the main from breaking up. A tight vang will give you a wider range of mainsail trim before the whole sails starts to flog.

Even a new Dacron blade will grow enough so that the leech will stretch well outside of the spreader tip. This is the condition that favors high quality, low stretch halyards. The luff will display huge scallops between the hanks. The max draft position will be about 50 % aft. Tighten the jib cunningham to pull the draft back into place. Once you get the boat back on its feet and in the groove crank the jib sheet in so that the leech of the jib is about even with the spreader tip. Use your mainsail spreader window. My experience is that most people don't trim the top of their blade correctly. Maybe they are afraid to look up, but it is very common to see people sailing around in blade conditions with the top of their sail luffing. The last 2-3" of blade sheet trim is very difficult to crank. The foot of the sail should be stretched tight in these conditions. Be careful to watch the leech of the blade. Slight lulls will spring the leech way too far inside the spreader tip and performance will drop quickly.

When the big blasts hit you may have to rag the main for a few seconds until you can get the boat back up on its feet. When you dump the mainsail you might notice that the boat suddenly wants to bear off. This is because the delicate balance between the main and jib has been upset. (Try sailing upwind without a main sometime. The jib is constantly trying to pull the bow down.) Don't let the boat bear off! Push the rudder away from you and keep the front of the jib feathered. In order to relieve some of the "anti-rudder" or lee helm, have the crew ease the jib a little (maybe 1.5”)every time the main starts to break up.

The key to sailing well in puffy blade conditions is keeping the boat balanced longer than your competition. When you think about it that is the trick to making sailboats perform in every condition. The only difference is that the effects in heavy air are more severe. Twenty five knots of wind is enough so that the force on the sails is enough to overpower the rudder, hence the sensation of less control. Developing the skills to keep the boat balanced through sail trim will not only enhance your speed, but it will give you the confidence you need to make appropriated decisions on the race course.

Geoff Moore
Shore Sails Ltd.
7 Merton Road
Newport, RI 02840
401-849-7700
fax) 401-849-7952
gmoore@shoresails.com
www.shoresails.com