The Transatlantic Race, Newport to Bergen, 1935

Preamble

In January 1935, the Rudder announced (p.53) a "May - Transatlantic Race to Norway, Cruising Club of America" and "August 10, Fastnet Race, Cowes, Royal Ocean Racing Club." In February, they expanded a little:

Transatlantic Race Plans Slowly Formulating

While no definite date has, at this writing, been released for the proposed ocean race to Norway, to be started in the latter part of May or first week in June, entire details of the race were voted into the hands of the Race Committee of the Cruising Club of America at a recent board of governors’ meeting. The Club, also, at that time adopted a modification of the Measurement Rule, based on the experience with the Club Rule in last year’s Bermuda Race and on the N.Y.Y.C. Cruise. One of the principal modifications was an alteration in the definition of the C factor in the formula to make more positive the Rule’s discouragement of “bob-tailed” sterns.

Entries are slow in coming and they will be surveyed with great care by the committee for seagoing ability on the part of both boat and crew. Likely contestants so far are Mistress, Vamarie, Brilliant, and perhaps Stormy Weather and Dauntless.

The Story of the Transatlantic Race as seen from Vamarie

See also this race from the perspective of Stormy Weather's crew

The following is adapted from the August 1935 issue of The Rudder. It was penned by Martin L. Scott, a crew member on the Vamarie. The photos are credited to Rosenfeld.

On June 8, 1935, six yachts started in what, to date, is the longest “blue water” race in yachting history.

The race from Newport, Rhode Island, to Bergen, Norway, was expected to combine all the sporting elements which make ocean racing so interesting and uncertain, such as fog, ice, storms, calm and luck. The experiences of the first three boats to arrive lead one to believe that the hopes of the sponsors of the race were fulfilled. Of the winner, Stormy Weather, there is nothing that can be said which would not be repetition. A fine boat, sailed by a great crew, the result was what they deserved.

In as much as I was one of the members of the crew of Vamarie and that after the first twenty-four hours we saw no other boat till we were north of Scotland, I will have to confine my experiences to that of our passage. It was at times cold, at times rough, sometimes pleasant and sometimes uncomfortable, but there were no doubts at any time as to the capabilities of Vamarie. The synopsis of our log, which follows, perhaps best described the trip.

June 8. Crossed starting line at 12 noon, E.S.T. Second boat to cross. The crew consisted of Vadim S. Makaroff, navigator, owner and captain. Sherman Hoyt, Ambrose Chambas, Paul Abbott, Martin Scott, John Archbold, Captain Troonin, Lenord Borden, Richard Alderman, radio operator and John Buck, cook.

Wind light with patches of fog as we set our course to pass through Vineyard Sound. Later on the wind failed altogether and as the tide turned we dropped anchor at 6 p.m. Stormy Weather anchored a hundred yards ahead of us. At 7 p.m. a light breeze sprang up and we weighed anchor. At 9:30 p.m. we were again anchored due to no wind and a head tide. Raised the anchor again at 10:10 p.m. and proceeded on course with Stormy Weather just ahead of us.

June 9. Beat out of Nantucket Sound passing Stormy Weather at 6 a.m. Pollock Lightship abeam at 6:25 a.m. Stormy Weather hull down on horizon at noon. Sea fairly calm but more fog in the evening. Noon position: 42° 05’ N., 69° 09’ W.

June 10. Thick fog and rough sea. Took down mainsail and baby jib. Heavy fog settled down in afternoon and evening. Noon position 42° N., 66° W., 258 miles on course.

June 11. Wind increased, going abaft the beam, staysail ripped and then taken in altogether. Sea gets large in the forenoon but moderates in the afternoon with more fog. Staysail sewed up and reset at 4 p.m. The moonlight came through the fog occasionally. Noon position 42° 13’ N., 62° 36’ W., 428 miles on course.

June 12. Wind died out completely at 6 a.m. Set light sails but could not make steerage way. Warm, bright sun. Dried sails and clothing on deck. Repaired radio antenna. Crew wore shorts and light clothing. Noon position 42° 56’ N., 59° 17’ W., 574 miles on course.

June 13. Very light wind. Moonlight and calm sea. First reports from the ice patrol, under our old friend Commodore Jones who asked our course and indicated icebergs thereon. Another sunny day with no wind and light sails set. Delightful yachting weather but hell in a race. Took all sails down in the afternoon due to no wind. Set sails again at 7 p.m. to catch light breeze. Hazy and foggy by midnight. Noon position: 42° 57’ N., 55° 50’ W., 726 miles on course.

June 14. Fog and rain squalls. Fair at dawn. Passed M.S. Marlan westbound at 9:45 a.m. Rain from noon on with poor visibility. Keeping a man in the bow as lookout as we are near the iceberg region. Wind increasing toward midnight. Noon position: 43° 21’ N., 53° 46’ W., 827 miles on course.

June 15. Heavy rain squalls. Light wind by 8 a.m. Set spinnaker for three hours. Badly chafed. Split Genoa jib in afternoon. Wind and sea increased by nightfall to forty-five miles an hour. Big mainsail torn and taken in. Big sea. Noon position: 44° 21’ N., 48° 45’ W., 1,049 miles on course.

June 16. Wind died down to calm by 5 a.m. Very cold and rainy. Fog at times. During the day barometer dropped from 29.8 to 29.32, rain squalls in the afternoon. Prepared ship for heavy weather. Visibility fair. Two lookouts left for icebergs. Noon position: 46° 14’ N., 44° 55’ W., 1,267 miles on course.

June 17. Heavy fog and twenty mile wind. Big sea but not much wind. Rain and fog all day. Repaired big mainsail and set it in afternoon. Wind freshening and making good time. Broke spinnaker halliard after sail was set for half hour. Overtook freight steamer. Noon position: 47° 11’ N., 41° 40’ W., 1,322 miles on course.

June 18. Strong breeze and following sea. Making good time. Rain squalls from time to time, clearing at noon. In afternoon sea breeze very rough continuing into the night. Noon position: 50° 02’ N., 37° 22’ W., 1,532 miles on course.

June 19. Sea moderate and wind light. Dried sails and sewed Genoa jib and spinnaker. Recording part of Kenyon Log went out of order. Still have taffrail log. Set spinnaker in evening but only carried it for one hour as wind increased. Noon position: 51° 40’ N., 34° 10’ W., 1,682 miles on course.

June 20. Rough confused sea, but moderate wind. At 1:30 p.m., while setting the spinnaker, we hesitated too long to make fast forward guy as it interfered with the vang of the wishbone. It was unfortunate that the sailing master, Captain Troonin, found himself on the windward side of the boom and was thrown overboard as the boom lurched to windward. Both life rings were cast toward him but missed him by about forty feet. The first gesture of the man overboard was to grab the log line, which parted. At the same time, Sherman Hoyt, who was then at the helm, came about, which was a perfect feat of seamanship, considering that both wishbone and mizzen booms were vanged to leeward. A certain amount of confusion resulted as by this time the spinnaker boom had broken loose, and the spinnaker halliard fouled in the wishbone, nevertheless Sherman managed to put the Vamarie alongside Troonin, who grasped a rope and was hauled inboard. The whole event took only eight minutes. Captain Troonin suffered from cold but otherwise unhurt. Having no log we have to judge our distance. Noon position 52° 54’ N., 28° 41’ W., 1,897 miles on course.

June 21. Overcast with rain squalls but cleared up around noon. Sea moderate and fair breeze. Making good time. Sunshine from time to time. Heavy squalls and rain around midnight. Noon position: 55° N., 25° 12’ W., 2,107 miles on course.

June 22. Roughest sea of the trip. Carried all working sails and making good time. Took several big following seas into the cockpit. In the afternoon the sea moderated and the sun came out with the wind dying down to the point where it made pleasant sailing. Noon position: 56° 30’ N., 18° 47’ W., 2,317 miles on course.

June 23. Clear night with a moderate sea and fair wind. Made good time all day. Wind dropped to very light at midnight. Noon position: 58° 24’ N., 13° 00’ W., 2,536 miles on course.

June 24. The wind dropped completely and Vamarie was becalmed from 4 a.m. until 3 p.m. Very light breeze came up until 10 p.m. when it freshened up to about twenty-five knots. Noon position: 58° 24’ N., 18° 40° W., 2,677 miles on course.

June 25. Wind heading us all day. Had to make a long tack to the westward. Very light wind and a great deal of fog. Made many tacks and used all the light sails. Noon position: 58° 48’ N., 14° 06’ W., 2,809 miles on course.

June 26. Very poor visibility and light airs. Passed between Fair Isle and Orkney Islands about noon, but fog was so thick we could not see the land. At about 10:15 a.m. sighted Stormy Weather about five miles to starboard of us. She was hardly visible, and while we know it was she, we tried to convince ourselves that while it was a Marconi rigged yawl floating around in a calm north of the Orkneys that it couldn’t be the Stormy Weather. Anyway. we left her astern at 11 am. At 12:45 p.m. we heard the Dennis Head foghorn. Passed through several fleets of trawlers and over several fish nets. The breeze freshened up about midnight. Noon position: 59° 29’ N., 2° 02’ W.. 2,983 miles on course.

June 27. Fog lifted at 2:30 a.m., and wind freshened. Moderate sea. By noon a hazy fog settled down. Sighted Marstein Light at 4:45 p.m. but Sherman Hoyt stuck his head out of the forward hatch and said it couldn’t be. Crossed the finish line at 5:17:10, when Marstein Light bore south, true. Time of crossing, 19 days, 17 minutes and 10 seconds. No landfall from Pollock Light to Marstein.

In conclusion, I should like to point to the remarkably accurate navigation of our owner and skipper “Billy” Makaroff. Through fog and storm, with half the time no log and without a landfall to check on since leaving Newport, we sighted Marstein Light dead ahead fifteen minutes after he predicted it. To Sherman Hoyt’s able handling of the yacht in the hardest kind of a sea and with the rigging in the most unaccountable tangle, Captain Troonin undoubtedly owes his life, and to the general cheerfulness and comradeship which prevailed, which goes so far to make a long hard trip a pleasant and enticing memory.