By Barry Lenoble
Sound’s Great at the start in New York Harbor © Allen Clark/PhotoBoat.com
I sailed in my first ALIR in 2014, and I haven’t missed one since. In 2022 I raced my own boat, Sound’s Great, a Jeanneau Sun Odyssey 409. We came in fourth out of nine boats in our division, missing 3rd place by 3.5 minutes. I made some improvements to the boat, the crew improved and we won our division in 2023 and ‘24. For 2025 we were hoping for a three-peat.
This year I had eight crew aboard: Rich Spitzenberger (helm), David Randle (tactics), Ed Dicken (trimmer), Rick Werder (trimmer), Ed Moylan (foredeck), Mike Napoli (foredeck), Grace Thoms (pit), and me (skipper).
Our plan was simple: Sail as fast as we can from the start to the finish. Sail as short a distance as possible. Be aggressive, but smart and safe. Use the appropriate sail plan regardless of day or night. If conditions called for a spinnaker set at 2:00am, that’s what we would do. Our crew was split into two teams of four. We planned a 4-hour watch schedule. However, a sail change like a set or douse, or a jibe in big wind, would mean all hands on deck.
The ALIR is a 207nm race, so the start (in New York Harbor) is not very important. Be on time (or within 30 seconds), not OCS, and in clear air. That’s what we did. We beat our way south and did eleven tacks before we reached the Verrazano Bridge at 12:30pm. South of the bridge the wind picked up to 15-20. We were pressed and started to depower the rig. An hour later we were way overpowered but needed to hang on just a little longer until we reached the only mark on the course (R14) and turned east. We rounded R14 at 1:29. We hoped to be able to put up a downwind sail but the wind was still forward of the beam. Instead, we just eased the sheets and rocketed east at 9 kts.
Grace Thoms takes a break from pit duties.
We were in the lead and working hard to increase it. As we headed east, the seas built. Hiking on the rail was a wet ride. It was a bright, warm summer day so the cool water felt nice.
By 6:00pm the wind had moved to the southwest and it was time to set the code 0 (on furler). All hands on deck! Speed picked up 10 kts most of the time with surfs to 12. We were in the Atlantic Ocean, south of Hampton Bays and we were flying. Steering was not bad. The ride was rough but manageable. What a day! Bright sunshine, good friends, a good boat, and a fast ride. This was why we were here.
Enjoying Friday evening are Rick Werder (foreground), Mike Napoli, and Grace Thoms.
Around 10:30PM the wind was lighter and had moved more WSW. Boat speed dropped and we turned more south to keep the sail full. It was time for a sail change from the code 0 to the big A2 running spinnaker. It took some time but we got the sail up. Boat speed was back up. The helm was light. The boat was FAST. Then we heard a loud BANG! and the tack of the spinnaker went up a few feet. What happened? Did the tack line slip through the clutch? Did the bobstay break? Did the removable bowsprit snap? Foredeck light on. What I saw was terrifying. The bowsprit was pointed straight up and was wobbling from side to side as the boat rolled. The butt end of the sprit was connected to the deck but the sprit was aimed straight up. I suspected it was broken in half. We needed to get the sail down ASAP. We did a quick letterbox takedown.
I went forward to see what had happened. The bowsprit was in one piece. It was straight and not bent. The bobstay was loose but intact. The collar that holds the pole down was not connected to the mounting point. Somehow it had come loose and that allowed the pole to point straight up. With some difficulty I was able to reposition the bowsprit, latch the collar and tighten the bobstay.
We were now slow and needed more sail area. We could put the code 0 up – that tacks to a strop in front of the forestay. However, we needed to sail deep and the code 0 doesn’t work for that. Ed went below to repack the spinnaker. Mike reran the sheets and checked the tack line. I crawled forward and checked the sprit one more time. It looked OK. We rehoisted the spinnaker.
The sprit seemed fine and the boat was sailing nicely. The off watch went back below to get some rest before the watch change at 1:00am.
Prior to the watch change we needed all hands to gybe and head north to Montauk. I was on the wheel as we headed north. Conditions were very rough. It was pitch black, bright stars in the sky but I was focused on driving. Wind 15-20 with gusts to 25. There were 4-5-foot waves on the port quarter; you needed to feel them and react. I needed to keep the Apparent Wind Angle (AWA) at 150 to maximize our Velocity Made Good (VMG) to Montauk. I would be on the correct wind angle, then a wave would lift the stern and the boat would slew left or right. She’d accelerate down the wave and the wind would go forward. The wave would pass, she’d slow and the process would start again. I tried steering by instrument but I was wandering too much. Then I saw the bright light of the Montauk Point lighthouse. By keeping the light directly above one of the stanchions I was able to stay on course. My steering improved and I made it a lot easier on the spin trimmers. I was still struggling because a wave would lift the stern of the bow would go down and the spinnaker would block my view of the lighthouse. The wave would pass, the bow would come up and I’d have to quickly locate the lighthouse to make sure I was on the correct angle. After an hour I was wiped out and I gladly turned the wheel over to Rich. We rounded Montauk in record time at 3:30am and sent our time to race officials (as required).
Weather comin’
The run from Montauk to Orient was magical. I did an hour stint at the helm as we watched the sky get lighter and the sun come up. The wind was WSW, we sailed NW. When the wind built to 15, we reefed the main. When it dropped to 12 we shook out the reef. No tacks, jibes, sets, douses necessary. Just sailing fast in a straight line and constantly adjusting for maximum speed.
At 6:20am we were back in Long Island Sound. I had a bagel for breakfast and a lot of water, then went below and rested. We’d been sailing for 19 hours but were only halfway through the race. In my opinion, the ALIR is won or lost in the Sound. Do you head towards Connecticut or stay on the Long Island side? Where will the currents be most advantageous? What is the wind forecast and do you believe it? We decided to stay along the Long Island shore and sail the shortest distance. By 8:30 we were north of the rhumbline and tacked south towards Long Island.
Most of Friday was good sailing. The wind was up and down but never very light. It was a bright, sunny day but never too hot. I rested as much as possible. We were hard on the wind the entire time. No opportunities to use an off-the-wind sail. We tacked back and forth trying to play the shifts, but I don’t think we were successful. On the YB Tracker we saw boats on the Connecticut side getting more wind and better angles. Maybe we were wrong to stay on the Long Island side.
Around 2:00pm the wind went more south and we were lifted onto the rhumbline. This was champagne sailing. Moving at 5-6 kts right where we wanted to go. The boat was pretty flat, no large waves. Life was good on Sound’s Great.
An hour or so later the sky was dark and scary. A small but strong thunderstorm was coming our way. We received a report from Bay Retriever, a boat ahead of us. They got hit by a squall with 35 kts. We were next. We discussed what to do and decided that when the wind arrived we’d roll up the headsail, depower the main, and feather the boat up into the big wind. We saw the storm approaching. When it started raining we quickly furled the headsail. Then the strong wind and torrential rain came. I was sitting on the high side of the boat. Rick was watching the wind instrument and called out the speed. 15, 20, 25, 30, 33. The rain was torrential, so hard it hurt my face. Rich was at the helm and he did a great job of keeping the boat flat, not flogging the main, and us moving forward at 3 kts. We saw some lightning strikes and heard thunder booming but not too often. After five minutes the weather passed. The squall took all the wind away and we had 30 minutes of very slow sailing. Eventually the wind came up and we sailed nicely west.
We had a nice trip across Smithtown Bay then we received reports of another squall near Northport. We saw this one coming too and we wanted to use the same plan. There was a boat, Pegasus, about 1nm ahead of us. We saw a lot of lightning and got ready. Pegasus got hit with a gust. She laid over and the headsail flogged. We waited a minute and furled the genoa. Pegasus shook off the wind, stood up and sailed on. We had little wind and were just sitting there. After a few minutes we thought this squall didn’t have much wind so we rolled out the genoa. About a minute later WHAM! No rain, but the wind came up quickly and hard. Sound’s Great took a great gust and heeled way over. Rich pinched and she straightened up. Then another gust and we laid over again. How long would this squall last? The answer was “a long time.” It was probably about 15 minutes but felt like hours. My poor boat. The wind was over 35 kts for most of it. My new mainsail was flogging, the strain on the rigging was immense. I saw the leeward rigging shaking and I was shaking too. I just closed my eyes and waited for it to end. Jeanneau must make a strong boat because Sound’s Great came through with flying colors. We received reports of dismastings, sails shredded, and boats withdrawing from the race.
After the squall passed the wind came back and we resumed our course. Another day turned to night. We tacked back and forth. We had dinner. We were moving smoothly and consistently and it looked like we were going to finish on Friday – a first for me. Of course, this being the ALIR, the wind got lighter and lighter. We rounded Matinecock Point at 9:40pm and were 3nm from the finish. Unfortunately, we were running out of wind. We had a fair current and were moving at 1-2 kts towards the finish. At 11:30 the wind shut off. We were drifting towards the finish line but had no steerage. At midnight we were 100 yards from the RC boat. We could hear the RC team talking. We were unable to make any progress at all. We started drifting towards the breakwater. Not good. The tide started to ebb and we were drifting away from the breakwater but also going backwards.
Celebrating a three-peat at the Sea Cliff Yacht Club award party are (l r) Rich Spitzenberger, Rich Werder, Barry Lenoble (holding the trophy), Ed Dicken, and Grace Thoms (most of the victorious Sound’s Great crew).
I went forward and deployed the anchor. Half the crew went to bed. We rolled up the genoa and the main hung, completely limp. We were all depressed, angry, sad, and generally down. Sitting 50-100 yards from the finish. If only we had done a tiny bit better on a tack, gybe, set, anything, we would’ve crossed the line. Now we were just stuck. On the tracking app we saw the competition out there. If the wind filled from the north they would get it first and then we’d have no chance at winning. Around 12:45am Saturday I felt a light breeze. The wind speed went to 1, 1.5, 2, 2.5. The main had a little shape to it. Dave suggested I go forward and check the anchor. I felt the rode and Sound’s Great was trying to move. I gently pulled the anchor up and returned to the cockpit. The main started drawing and we moved slowly forward: .5kts, .6, .7…we were going to finish! I went below and gently woke the crew. A few minutes later we crossed the line! First to finish but we needed to wait an hour to see if a competitor corrected in front of us. After two hours the results were posted, and Sound’s Great had won Spinnaker division 5! ■
To learn more about the Around Long Island Regatta, log onto alir.org.
