Nigel King diary

British Figaro solo sailor qualifies for la Solitaire after the Concarneau and Sables Solos

May has been an important month in my solo sailing career as I’ve completed my first two single-handed races and qualified successfully for the main event - La Solitaire Afflelou Le Figaro - which starts in July. One goal has been achieved. There’s still a huge lot to learn but I feel I’m getting there. Of the four Figaro events available for qualification, I chose the Concarneau and Sables Solos - each race around 250 miles in the Bay of Biscay. I finished 13th and 6th respectively.

The Concarneau Solo over 5-8 May was basically a set of windward/leeward legs with islands as marks, and an initial short beat and run in the Bay La Foret. I was out in the race area 45 minutes before the start. This was later than I usually like, but everyone seemed to be delayed leaving the dock. My start will not go down in history as one I’d like to remember. The mainsheet block exploded on the line. This was a distraction I could have done without! Having been forced to the right side of the course to gain clear air, I then made the mistake of trying the swap sides on the first beat. This only compounded my bad start and put me well back at the first windward mark.

Things improved on the run. I made good gains, letting the pilot drive while I concentrated on trimming the kite. The fleet slowly made its way west and as we turned right, we went from run to spinnaker reach, to jib reach and then on to the wind. The breeze had started around 8 knots but was building to 23 knots. No one made the change to Solent jib as we would soon be making the turn south for an 80 mile run to a mark on the entrance to the St Nazaire channel (SN1). I rounded the westward mark around 21st place and hoisted the kite to head off on starboard. This was my first opportunity to do something different tactically since the first beat. The course had been a bit of a procession. For me the decision was straightforward. Starboard was the favoured gybe and I am a great believer in sailing the shortest distance. If you can’t think of a reason to tack or gybe, my feeling is you don’t. Mike Broughton had also mentioned there would be more wind offshore and this was where I was heading.

The leaders all went round the top mark and gybed on to port before setting off at speed under spinnaker. The mid-fleet boats did the same. It’s always tempting to follow the leaders, assuming them to be right, but I preferred to use my own reading of the situation. The forecast was for the wind to veer to the north-east, so port would become the making gybe. The key was going to be judging when that was going to happen and by how far. Timing the gybe would be crucial. The breeze was building. I had a solid 30 knots and was surfing at 17 knots. Then the wind started to veer and the time to gybe was fast approaching. This was the first occasion I’d experienced prolonged conditions like these in the Figaro and I’d certainly not gybed “Blue Note” in that much wind before, despite how many times I’d done it on other boats! I checked the set up carefully to make sure nothing would get caught which could give me problems. I waited a couple of minutes to get the right surf going and then just flicked her round, managing to get the kite filled on the new gybe without the pole set. Then I went forward to swap the pole over. Perhaps I gybed a little late as I ended up approaching SN1 buoy under genoa around midnight, in a dying 10 knot breeze that had gone well round to the north-east. That said, I took places off half the fleet. Although boats inside me did have spinnakers set, they were having to run deep. I rounded after three other boats, although in the dark I had no idea who they were. With a light and shifty beat up the side of Belle Ile, then across to Ile de Croix and on to the entrance to Concarneau, the wind did its usual trick of turning with us to keep on a beat. Between the islands would be flat water but the moment we came out, the waves would roll in.

I did not know my position rounding the mark off St Nazaire, but could see around 10 boats just ahead and one or two just behind. The rest of the race was mainly on the wind. Unfortunately, my speed in waves was not proving too flash. This was making me twitchy about the trim and stopping me from sleeping. With my growing fatigue came even less boat speed and a downward spiral that is hard to break. Eventually I was literally sick through exhaustion and really not enjoying the race at all.

Right - it was time to get my act together and retrieve my concentration. This led to a decision that would cost me places but one I still believe was correct in the circumstances. I had to get back in the learning zone, so I let the boat behind me catch up, so we could line up for speed. This turned out to be Christopher Pratt, the top Bizuth (or newcomer) in last year’s Solitaire. I held my own on the run and beat in flat water, but then dropped off the pace as we came out into the waves for the last 25 miles home. I finished the race at 0430 with nothing left, feeling that I’d sailed just as poorly as I possibly could and deserved to come in last. I tied up at the dock, leaving a messy boat and trudged off to the race office to find out the news. Imagine my surprise to get a 13th place and top “foreign” boat - totally unexpected! Of the 26 boats entered four had been in the top ten last year. I was only 1 hour 21 minutes off the leader and 30 minutes off fifth place. I was also third of the newcomers. All in all a good result but I realised I had to conquer the sleeping problem.

A week later I was ready for the second qualifier - the Sables D’Olonne Solo - between 17th and 19th May. Given this was hopefully to be my final qualifier my main objective was clear, first and foremost to finish. I was also keen to improve on my first race performance and also work hard on my sleep. In the end I was to achieve all that I set out to do. The forerunners may not yet be quaking in their boots at my arrival on the Figaro circuit but the signs are there that I can do this and be competitive. The big thing too was that instead of fading in the last 50 miles, as I had in Concarneau, I was to finish this race on a charge, gaining places all the way to the finish.

Starting in 20 to 25 knots and a four metre sea was a new experience for me in a Figaro and does make life that little bit harder. I picked my spot on the line with the jib half sheeted and held position on the main. I had good space to leeward with Gerald Veniard to windward. With 30 seconds to go I sheeted on but the jib caught on the guard wire. Running up to skirt the jib meant that Gerald would get the jump on me to weather and roll over me.

Anyone who has raced in one design will know that coming in half a length under the layline and trying to get two quick tacks near the mark is suicide. Now try that on your own, in 25 knots and a big sea - positively dangerous. Having got round the first mark without getting sunk or protested, I found myself in a bunch but at the back as we surfed downwind on the five mile run to a buoy off Port Bourgenay. I was in good shape and rounded the next mark in third place. The wind stayed at around 18/23 knots until midnight and gave us a great 25 mile run to Ile de Re when I was anywhere between third and seventh place. Gerald Veniard in first place was already well clear and showing everybody a clean pair of heels. During the 15 mile starboard tack to the south-west of the island I dropped to eighth. At first I thought it was due to the fact that I had a genoa up and it was a little outside its range but later a boat sailed right past me with the same configuration. It must have been my set up - something to ponder I think.

The next 24 hours of the race were sailed in less that 8 knots. I worked my way back into the pack only for there to be two big park ups in no wind. I lost badly in both. Others seeing me stopped were alerted to sail round, leaving me just sitting and waiting for some wind. I was down to ninth and very frustrated. The interesting thing was that despite these little mistakes, I could still see the leaders on the horizon ahead. That’s the beauty of one-design racing.

45 miles to go and I was still in 9th. As soon as the sun rose I could see all the boats around me. I love this part of the day and like to call it sunrise surprise, as you find out who is really close by. I had slept a lot during the night whilst jib reaching and was feeling fresh and ready for the race to the finish. All that was left was a 20 mile spinnaker reach and then a beat home. The boats ahead decided this was a white sail reach. In the many conversations I have had about offshore racing, one of the big decisions is whether to sail the course or forget it and go for speed. Mike Broughton has often told me to go for speed as something will always change. With this advice ringing in my head and the fact that we were going round an island, I decided I would sail to hold the kite, see what I could do and hunt down one boat at a time.

I rounded the Chauveau mark to the south-east of Ile de Re with a very satisfied smile on my face, having just sailed to leeward of three boats. At the perfect moment, the wind became light and lifted so that I could drop the kite, climb up to the line and confirm my gain. We started the 25 mile homeward beat in 5 to 8 knots which built to 18 in the last five miles. By this time I had put an hour on the boat in seventh but failed to catch Didier Bouillard in fifth place. He is one of my La Rochelle training partners. I finished at around 1600 on Saturday night and felt good enough to go to the prize giving, plus a few beers with the rest of the teams.

It feels pretty good to have qualified and a massive thanks to everyone who sent me messages of support before the events. I hope you enjoyed following it. Now I’m back to La Rochelle, taking some time out from the Figaro to sail with Dee Caffari in the Open 60 Aviva during June in the Calais Round Britain Race. Then it’s back to training ready for 14th July when I leave for Caen and the start of the Solitaire.