Three People, One Boat — How an A-Rater Crew Works Together
A 26-foot racing dinghy doesn't work because three people do three separate jobs — it works because they behave like one crew.
When people first see an A-Rater sailing, one of the most striking things is its size.
At around 26 feet long, with an enormous sail plan, a long narrow hull and three people aboard, it looks rather different from the conventional two-person racing dinghy.
Watch an experienced A-Rater crew, however, and something else becomes apparent.
There may be three people in the boat, but there shouldn't really be three independent sailors.
There should be one crew.
The helm, midhand and forward crew may have different immediate responsibilities, but virtually everything one person does affects the other two. A change in course alters sail trim. A gust changes the required balance. A tack demands movement, steering and sail handling almost simultaneously.
That is something I have been discovering while sailing Champagne, my own A-Rater on the Upper Thames.
Learning to make the boat go quickly is not simply a matter of learning what each rope does. It is learning how three people can anticipate what is about to happen and make the boat respond almost as though one person were controlling everything.
Three Positions — But Not Three Separate Jobs
It is tempting to describe an A-Rater crew very simply:
Helm: steers the boat.
Midhand: manages sails and controls.
Forward crew: handles the jib and works at the front of the boat.
That isn't completely wrong.
But it misses the important part.
Each person is constantly providing information and making adjustments that affect everyone else.
Imagine sailing close-hauled and a stronger patch of wind appears 30 metres ahead.
The forward crew may see it first.
The midhand may prepare for the extra power.
The helm may alter the course very slightly.
All three may change their body position.
The sheets may need adjusting.
And all this may happen within a few seconds.
Nobody has stopped to hold a committee meeting.
That is when three people begin to become one crew.
The Helm — Much More Than Steering
The most obvious job of the helm is controlling the rudder.
But steering an A-Rater effectively is not about continually moving the tiller.
In fact, excessive rudder movement creates drag.
The helm should ideally be making relatively small corrections while feeling what the boat is doing.
Is the boat trying to head into the wind?
Is the helm suddenly becoming heavy?
Has the boat started heeling?
Has the pressure disappeared?
Are the sails properly balanced?
The tiller becomes a source of information.
A well-balanced boat should not need to be wrestled around the river.
The helm also has the bigger picture
The helm is usually thinking further ahead:
Where is the next mark?
Which side of the river looks stronger?
Is another boat approaching?
Are we being headed?
Do we need to tack?
How close are we to the bank?
What is the current doing?
On a river such as the Thames, this becomes particularly interesting because the wind can change enormously over a surprisingly short distance.
Trees, buildings, bends and the banks themselves disturb the airflow.
The helm therefore isn't simply steering towards a mark.
The helm is constantly deciding where the boat should go next.
But that decision is only useful if the rest of the crew knows what is coming.
The Midhand — The Connection Between Power and Control
The middle position can be one of the most interesting places in the boat because it sits physically and operationally between the helm and forward crew.
Depending on the particular boat and how its controls are arranged, the midhand may be involved with mainsail controls, sail shape, balance and helping coordinate manoeuvres.
But perhaps the most important skill is awareness.
The midhand needs to know what the helm intends to do while simultaneously understanding what the sails and boat are doing.
Suppose the boat is becoming overpowered.
Simply pulling everything harder is rarely the answer.
The midhand may need to help adjust the sail plan so that the boat remains fast but manageable.
Equally, when the wind drops, the objective changes.
Now the challenge is extracting power from every available breath of wind without strangling the sails.
This is where small adjustments become important.
A few centimetres of sheet movement can sometimes make more difference than a dramatic adjustment.
The midhand is therefore not simply operating controls.
They are helping manage the power plant of the boat.
The Forward Crew — Eyes, Jib and Early Warning System
It would be very easy to think of the forward crew as simply "the person who does the jib".
That seriously underestimates the job.
The jib is extremely important, particularly when sailing upwind, but the forward crew is also in an excellent position to observe what is happening ahead.
They can see:
gusts approaching across the water;
quieter patches of water;
other boats;
marks;
obstructions;
approaching river traffic;
changes in wind direction;
what rival boats are experiencing.
That information can be enormously valuable.
Imagine the helm is concentrating on keeping Champagne moving quickly to windward.
Twenty metres ahead, the forward crew sees a dark patch spreading across the water.
A simple call:
"Gust in five."
Suddenly everybody can prepare.
The helm knows additional pressure is coming.
The midhand can prepare to control the extra power.
The forward crew can anticipate the required jib trim.
Everybody can move appropriately.
The gust arrives.
Instead of the boat suddenly heeling, the rudder loading up and everybody reacting afterwards, the crew is already prepared.
That is the difference between reacting and anticipating.
Balance — Three Bodies Are Part of the Boat
One of the most important things beginners discover about dinghy sailing is that crew weight isn't merely cargo.
It is a control.
On an A-Rater, three people provide a considerable amount of movable weight.
Where those people sit matters.
Move weight to windward and you create righting moment.
Move weight forwards or aft and you alter the boat's fore-and-aft trim.
If one crew member moves unexpectedly, the others may immediately feel the effect.
That means balance isn't just:
"Everybody sit on the windward side."
It is dynamic.
In a gust, the crew may move out.
As the gust passes, they move back.
During a tack, all three people have to cross the boat.
In light airs, apparently small changes in position can disturb a boat that you are trying to keep moving smoothly.
The aim isn't frantic movement.
Quite the opposite.
The best movement tends to be early, smooth and coordinated.
The Tack — Where Teamwork Becomes Obvious
A tack is perhaps the clearest demonstration of three people working as one.
From outside the boat it can look simple.
The bow passes through the wind and the sails change sides.
Inside the boat, quite a lot is happening.
The helm initiates the turn.
The jib begins to unload.
The forward crew releases one sheet and prepares the other.
The crew move across the boat.
The mainsail changes side.
The helm controls the rate of turn.
The jib fills on the new tack.
Everybody settles into their new position.
The boat accelerates again.
A poor tack can stop the boat almost completely.
A good tack maintains momentum.
Communication before the tack
A simple routine helps enormously.
"Ready about?"
The crew confirm.
"Ready."
Only then:
"Lee-oh."
The exact words are less important than everybody understanding them.
The objective is that nobody should be surprised when the boat turns.
Why Timing Matters
Imagine the helm starts turning before the forward crew is ready.
The jib may remain backed for too long.
Or imagine the jib is released far too early.
Now the bow may struggle to pass through the wind.
If everybody crosses too aggressively, the boat may roll unnecessarily.
If everybody moves too late, it may heel heavily on the new tack.
None of these mistakes belongs exclusively to one crew member.
That is an important lesson.
The tack belongs to all three people.
Gybing Requires the Same Cooperation
The gybe presents a different challenge because the boom is crossing the boat while the stern passes through the wind.
Again, anticipation matters.
The helm controls the turn.
The crew prepare the sails.
Everybody knows when the boom is likely to cross.
Weight moves appropriately.
The boat exits the gybe balanced and travelling towards its new destination.
A successful manoeuvre should feel controlled rather than dramatic.
And that is an important theme throughout sailing.
When everything aboard looks spectacularly busy, something may already have gone wrong.
Very good sailing can look remarkably uneventful.
Communication Should Be Short
Three people talking continuously doesn't necessarily make a good crew.
The useful communication aboard a racing boat is usually brief and relevant.
For example:
"Gust coming."
"Header."
"Boat to windward."
"Two lengths to the bank."
"Ready to tack?"
"Ease."
"Hold."
"Pressure gone."
The message needs to convey useful information quickly.
There is an interesting progression as a crew develops.
Initially, people may need to explain everything.
Later, they need fewer words.
Eventually, some actions require almost no conversation at all.
Someone shifts position.
Another crew member automatically compensates.
The helm changes course slightly.
The jib is adjusted.
A gust appears.
Everyone moves.
That isn't telepathy.
It is familiarity.
Don't Just Say What You Can See — Say What It Means
There is another stage beyond simply reporting information.
Compare:
"There's some dark water over there."
with:
"More pressure coming from windward in about ten seconds."
The second call tells the crew something useful.
Likewise:
"There's another boat."
is less useful than:
"Boat approaching on starboard."
Good communication filters observations into information that somebody can act upon.
Sailing Upwind — A Continuous Three-Way Conversation
Upwind sailing is particularly demanding because boat speed depends on several variables simultaneously.
The helm is steering the correct angle to the apparent wind.
The sails need to be trimmed appropriately.
The crew need to keep the boat balanced.
The boat needs to maintain speed.
And everybody needs to watch what is happening around them.
If the helm pinches too close to the wind, boat speed falls.
If the sails are oversheeted, the boat may feel powerful but slow.
If the boat heels excessively, the rudder may need greater correction, creating additional drag.
If the jib is incorrectly trimmed, the airflow around both sails can suffer.
These are not separate problems.
They interact.
That is why improving an A-Rater crew is not simply about making each individual sailor better at their particular job.
It is about making the whole system work better.
Downwind — The Jobs Change Again
Turn downwind and the priorities change.
Now the crew may be searching for pressure rather than simply trying to point towards the destination.
The forward crew may become particularly valuable as a wind spotter.
The midhand may be constantly adjusting sail controls.
The helm may deliberately alter course to remain in stronger wind.
On a river this can produce an interesting tactical decision.
The shortest route is not necessarily the fastest route.
If one side of the river has significantly more pressure, sailing extra distance to reach it may produce a net gain.
Again, the decision works best when everybody understands the objective.
What Happens When Something Goes Wrong?
This is perhaps where teamwork matters most.
A sheet catches.
A tack goes badly.
The boat suddenly heels.
Another boat appears somewhere unexpected.
The wind disappears halfway through a manoeuvre.
The instinctive reaction can be for everyone to start doing something.
That can make matters worse.
Good crews develop another skill:
They know who needs to solve the problem.
If the forward crew has a sheet problem, the helm's immediate job may simply be to keep the boat stable.
The midhand may temporarily alter the mainsail.
The forward crew clears the problem.
Then normal sailing resumes.
Three people attempting to fix the same problem simultaneously can create three new problems.
Learning to Sail Champagne
One of the pleasures of owning an older racing boat such as Champagne is that there is always something else to learn.
The boat has history.
It has character.
And, like many boats of its generation, it doesn't necessarily behave exactly like a modern dinghy.
That makes sailing it fascinating.
Each outing teaches us something else.
Perhaps a control needs changing.
Perhaps our timing through a tack can improve.
Perhaps we discover that a particular crew position works better.
Perhaps we realise we should have spotted a gust earlier.
Those discoveries are part of the enjoyment.
There is always a temptation with sailing to imagine that expertise means reaching a point where you finally know how to do everything.
I increasingly think the opposite is true.
The more you sail, the more subtle things you begin to notice.
Try This With Your Own Crew
Next time you sail with two or three people aboard, try a simple experiment.
For ten minutes, concentrate specifically on communication.
Before every manoeuvre, make sure everyone knows what is about to happen.
Call significant gusts.
Call major wind shifts.
Mention nearby boats.
Then try another ten minutes with one additional objective:
anticipate rather than react.
If a gust is coming, move before the boat heels.
If a tack is approaching, prepare before the helm turns.
If the wind is disappearing, adjust before the boat stops.
It is surprising how much calmer the boat becomes.
And calmer often means faster.
The Really Good Crew Almost Disappears
Perhaps the best compliment you can give a sailing crew is that nobody appears to be doing very much.
There is no frantic pulling of ropes.
Nobody is shouting.
Nobody suddenly leaps across the boat.
The helm makes tiny adjustments.
Sheets move a few centimetres.
Crew weight shifts almost imperceptibly.
Information passes between three people in a handful of words.
Yet the boat remains balanced and continues accelerating.
That apparent simplicity is the result of a great deal of cooperation.
Three People, One Boat
An A-Rater needs three sailors because there is a lot happening aboard a large and powerful racing dinghy.
But simply putting three competent sailors in the same boat doesn't automatically create a good crew.
The real transformation happens when each person begins thinking about what the other two will need next.
The forward crew spots the gust before it arrives.
The midhand prepares the sail plan.
The helm anticipates how the boat will respond.
Everybody moves together.
And for a few wonderful moments, the distinction between helm, midhand and forward crew almost disappears.
There aren't three people trying to sail the same boat.
There is simply Champagne, accelerating up the Thames.
And one crew sailing her.
PMR Sailing — learning, experimenting and getting better every time we go afloat.
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