Same as Patrick
Had a strong wind shift do the exact same to us. It was after 1am, we had been on the water for 2 1/2 days and we were about 10 miles from the finish. The wind spiked and clocked around almost 90 degrees. We had a few things go wrong and a few go right. First the down side - While we didn't have stopper knots tied in the sheets, poor housekeeping had allowed loops to form that jammed in both blocks and there was enough force on the line that two of us couldn't pull it loose enough to undo the tangle. This was with both the sheet and the guy. Letting the guy loose resulted in the pole heading for the forestay, with more power than I care to think about. We weren't flat on our side, but at one point I had my heels on the leeward toerail with water halfway to my knees. With our movement abruptly changed from forward to sideways, no water moving forward over the rudder meant no steerage. We were less than a half mile windward of a reef that had the potential for serious damage to the boat, and we were sliding sideways towards it.Now the upside - First and foremost, everyone kept their heads and didn't panic. My guy on the foredeck was singleminded in keeping the pole off the forestay so as not to risk compromising the rig. After realizing that we didn't have enough strength in the cockpit to manhandle the lines free, a briefly reached for my rigging knife to cut them free. There is a part of me that hated the thought of cutting perfectly good lines, then I realized that once cut, I'd have one big flag flying off the top of my mast that I'd still have to get down. Continuing through the list of options, the lightbulb went off and popped the halyard free. The line shot through the mast, the boat stood right up, helmsman had control, foredeck unlocked himself from where he had been bracing the pole, and the rest of us in the cockpit quickly scooped up our shrimping spinnaker before it had the opportunity to foul rudder.The amazing thing to me is how quickly all of the above happened. From things going well, to the sh*t hitting the fan, to the recovery, to the adrenalin burnoff afterwards. As the cockpit finished retrieval, I did a quick headcount showing everyone still on board, PFDs on, harnesses clipped in. Checking in everyone was ok, I had opened up a few stitches in my hand that I had gotten the day before the race, and one very minor case of rope burn. When we got into port, the guys tied up next us had run into the same scenario shortly before us, and didn't do quite as well. Most of them didn't want talk about it, seemed to shake them up quite a bit. One of the crew said there wasn't much left of their chute and that they had been cutting line left and right to try to get things back under control.Did we make mistakes? Yes. Did we lose our heads? No. The crew's reponse when we got to port? "Let's do this again next year" and "Can I have a beer?" We don't finish near the front of the pack, but they're a great group to sail with and we do it more for the fun and experience.T J