It's a family affair - 100 Mijl Bruine Bank Race (2024)

During the last five years doublehanded racing has become one of the fastest growing and most competitive disciplines in sail racing. In major offshore races the doublehanded class rivals the crewed classes in size and quality, with top duos often finishing on the podium – and periodically winning outright. Four years ago only three Dutch boats finished the North Sea Race doublehanded, while this year 18 duos started, and three cracked the top 10 overall.

This explosive growth is as much about participation as quality. Some of the top skippers and talent from crewed programs have transitioned to doublehanded racing, and each season the preparation, practice, and performance reach new levels. Through this recent growth, and the increasing number of doublehanded races each season, these hearty duos have become intimately familiar with other teams, rivalries have surfaced and friendships have flourished. This small and specal ‘family’ has become close, proud and protective.

A frequent sight in Scheveningen harbor, and in most any harbor around the world, are kids learning to sail in tiny ‘Optimists’. When you put a bunch of kids in dingys you soon see their individual characters come through on the water; talent begins to emerge, hard worker are rewarded with improvement, and above all close bonds develop between sailors and within the group. Put a bunch of adult doublehandeders on the water and the behavior is not that much different the kids, with occasional hard words hurled across the water but more frequently gentle teasing and laughter.

The 100 Mile Bruine Bank Race is the traditional close to the Dutch Doublehanded season. Similar to the RORC Cherbourg Race the final season standings are at stake, but the intense last race will also be followed a year-end celebration. This year 24 very familiar duos chatted and readied in the Ijmuiden Marina, enjoying warm and sunny early Autumn conditions. Heading out to the line the waves and greetings soon gave way to focus and determined positioning before the start.

Though 100 miles and a long night on the North Sea lay ahead, in the minute before the start we collectively hardened up sails and picked up speed the line. Nearly everyone realized the start ship end of the line was favored, and too many boats converged on the same small patch of water. It was no different than a jumble of Optimists with kids calling for rights and yelling warnings; four boats were forced to cross early and had to return to the line, while on Maverick we managed to peel away at the last moment and pass just behind the stern of the startship, pivoted next to a Sander van Doorn​ on his little Mini, and crossed the line less than a minute late. It proved fortunate as a scrum of boats sailed slowly together in a cloud of foul air, while we we slotted into relatively clean air next to Hodspur and soon tacked over toward a first marker.

We rounded the upwind mark in second place, just behind Endorphin, and started a 20 mile run up the Dutch coast. The modest 10-14 kt breeze came from slightly ahead and everyone started the leg on white sails, but over the next 30 minutes the wind gradually shifted closer to the beam. Endorphin hoisted their Code 0, and we followed suit with our A0/Code 0. The wind angle was at the edge for this small, flat reaching spinnaker, and we worked hard to hold angle and keep speed. Together with Endorphin we began pulling ahead of the field behind, prompting Junique Raymarine Sailing Team​ to set their reacher and make it a three boat race to the next mark.

Over the next 90 minutes the three of us further ahead, and we approached the next mark in close formation. We furled our Code 0 conservatively early and Junique pulled along side. A few boat lengths from the buoy Junique began to angle across our bow, Pascal briefly peering over from the wheel like a kid about to smack his brother when his parents aren’t watching. Forced toward a big steel buoy a few feet ahead we swung the bow to starboard and above Junique, only wising our bowsprit were a few feet longer so that we could prod the kid ahead and wipe his smirk away.

We quickly set our big blue running spinnaker, settling in just behind Endorphin and Junique. The big J-boat with her bigger spinnaker gradually moved ahead, while we enjoyed miles of trimming and jousting with the well-matched Endorphin. We began the leg with comfortable lead on the trailing fleet. The other bigger doublehanded boat and fellow IJspegelaar Windsprint drove under her big red spinnaker a few hundred meters behind, but unfortunately a few of the swell-sailed smaller boats were coming up fast. They were led by the perennially strong brothers Pol on Yeti, who executed a spinnaker change during the leg worthy of a fully crewed boat, Team Firestorm​, and Exxellence Hodspur Sailing Team​ storming along ahead of higher rated competition.

Over the next two hours we coaxed a little more speed out of Mav, but like the last scenes in “Butch Cassidy” we kept looking back at Yeti, Firestorm, and Hodspur, asking each other “Who are these guys?”. No doubt the other ‘big kids’ on Junique and Endorphin were thinking the same. Several miles before the the next mark a hugh drilling platform loomed dead ahead, angular and black and incongruous in the middle of open sea. The Coast Guard radioed Endorphin on the VHF and reminded them (and all of us, indirectly) of the 500 meter exclusion zone around the platform. Junique was well ahead and passed just outside the zone, and Mav and Endorphin did the same. One of the boats just behind was heading more directly toward the zone; it was our season finale and we also counted our competitors as friends, and rather than waiting for an infraction we felt a twinge of compassion and called them on the VHF. They did not respond to three calls and sailed close to the platform. There was no danger or real advantage, but with the Coast Guard monitoring it is never good form to raise attention or provoke further scrutiny or rules in the future. We would have a word or two with our brothers after the race.

A few miles past the platform we gybed just after the course buoy, crossing just ahead of Endorphin. Junique lay almost a mile ahead but we would still hold an advantage on corrected time, though we did not yet have enough cushion on the three smaller boats persisting behind us. As darkness fell we gained some time on Endorphin and Windsprint, having played the tides correctly, and came to the halfway mark a few minutes ahead of them. We readied for the spinnaker drop, and in the growing breeze a fat beam reach -- Mav’s favorite point of sail – lay ahead.

It has been a long season, and we have had our share of teething pains and lessons learned dropping the big kites. We prepared slowly and carefully, and it was a fine sight to behold. Leaning forward to release the tack line, the small auto-pilot remote control fob around my neck must have been caught against a line or combing, and ‘Nikki’ the autopilot proceeded to smartly gybe. We have had far too much practice recovering from nasty spinnaker situations, and at this point Murphy must have decided that enough was enough. I took control of the helm, gybed back, and we finished the drop cleanly. Endorphin and Windprint caught up but we only lost a minute or two, and after rounding the buoy we were roaring along in the darkness on a rollicking broad reach.

We slightly bit into Junique’s big lead while racing close to Windsprint and Endorphin. At the end of the too-short leg we rounded the buoy next to Windsprint and sailed higher on the wind, but each time we edged ahead to pass them our rival would head us up. We both lost speed and like two brothers giving each other dead arms there was nothing gained and only shared pain. We waited until the next time Windsprint bore up on us and drove down behind them. We built up enough extra speed to open up some separation and slowly pulled out of their foul wind.

We pulled away from Windsprint and Endorphin, but faced a long upwind leg to the finish. The tide was also changing and would build against us later. Though they lay nearly 2 miles ahead we held a narrow edge on Junique in corrected time, but they have the ability (and skill) to sail higher and faster than nearly every other doublehanded boat. As the wind and seas built we held our own on some tacks but with growing fatigue we steadily lost ground and time. Junique was no doubt focused and did not want to be shown up by her kid brother, and just before daybreak they crossed the finish line along the Ijmuiden harbor entrance and took well-earned line honors.

During the last 15 miles we opened up a satisfying mile lead over Endorphin and Windsprint, and crossed the line second. Unfortunately we did not build enough of a lead over trailing boats Hodspur, Firestorm and Yeti, and finished 5th on corrected time under the ORC rating and 3rd place (with Junique 1st and Firestorm 2nd) under the IRC scoring. We took some further consolation by finishing just ahead of a trio of top Dutch doubehanded boats – Push-Up, Jam Session, and SparklinGS.

Robin Verhoef​ and John van der Starre on Xcentric Ripper, with four impressive victories earlier in the series, earned the coveted 2015 Shorthanded Dutch TwoHanded Trophy, while strong performances by Firestorm and Push-Up nudged Mav just off the podium into 4th place for the Series, followed by Sparklings and Panther Sailing Team​ -- but with improving results and optimism for next year (and a lot more spinnaker handling practice during the upcoming IJspegels).

The race was superbly organized by Joop ten Bokkel​ and YSY, Shorthanded and the Noordzee Club​, with a varied and tactically challenging course crafted by Ad Lagendijk​. This also held true for the prize giving, also well planned with a terrific array of psizes sponsored by Tuned Rigs & Ropes​. Best of all, the kids that hours earlier argued and fought on the water sat down for dinner as a family, sharing stories, proudly cheering their siblings and friends, and making plans for the next Doublehanded season.

Chris Schram o/b Maverick.