Day 1 – July 11, 2016
Please excuse the abbreviated nature of this post. Power is scarce on a race boat and it is
difficult to write on an often wet and heaving boat.
The Crew of Aeriagnie - Cecile, Ben, Rene, and Scott |
We started the race at 10:30 on a foggy morning and tacked
out the gate, keeping in the center of the ebb tide. It was the first time we had sailed together
as a team, but things went well with a minimum of hollering. It was windy in the gate and briefly lighter
outside as we headed for the southern edge of the shipping lanes. The wind quickly began to build until we
found ourselves in a full scale gale.
The wind blew from 35 to 45 knots all day and night, with 8 to 10 foot
seas and green water breaking over the boat.
We were all wet to the skin and shivering. We quickly realized that the secondary winch
on the port side was slipping. One of
the first big waves knocked a
The Golden Gate on the Morning of Our Start |
Whale Escort |
Umbrella Shelter in the Head |
Day 2 – July 12, 2016
Morning dawned with clear skies and lighter winds.
I started to feel somewhat better and soon Scott
I started to feel somewhat better and soon Scott
Ben and the "Clothesline" |
Day 3 – July 13, 2016
Scott at the Helm |
The day was cloudy, but we sailed on under genoa, storm jib
(staysail) and reefed main. It was still
chilly, but I finally dried out enough to stop shivering and managed to eat
something. I treated myself to dry
socks, which helped. I finally managed
to get some quality sleep.
Day 4 – July 14, 2016
We awoke to another cloudy morning. Another boat had dismasted during the night
and two more had dropped out for other reasons.
Cecile complained that the communications schedule was cutting into her
sleep, so we decided to change the watch schedule so that the morning check in
and
Cecile on the Radio |
Day 5 – July 15, 2016
Another Grey Morning |
Morning found us still sailing dead downwind under steely
skies. Another couple of boats had
dropped out or failed to start, bringing the total to eight. We found our first flying fish on deck and
fried him up and ate him. The squid were
not so appetizing. We wallowed along all
day and then put a second reef in after dinner.
Dinner was the Kalua pork I had made before leaving. I also made a big green salad, which was much
appreciated by our digestive tracts. It
started to clear just before dark. There
still was no sunset to speak of, but we could see the moon through gaps in the
clouds, which made steering much easier.
We were in good spirits. I
suggested using the lid of one of our food containers as a red lens for the
compass screen and that worked well.
Day 6 – July 16, 2016
Another day of slogging downwind under grey skies. We shook
out the reef at morning watch change.
Somehow, I had envisioned more warmth and sun for this race. The wind direction had shifted so that we
were forced to sail west, rather than south, so conditions were not
improving. By mid-afternoon, we took
down the staysail.
In the evening it got squally. We were rocketing along downwind, trying to
cheat south. At times we reached 11
knots coming off a wave. When I went below
at 10:00 pm, I mentioned reefing, but everyone thought we could drive through
the squalls. Our racing fangs were
sharp. About 4:30 in the morning, I was
driving when the boat rounded up and then dived back down hard. The boom vang gave way with a crack and the
main boom shot up in the air. This was a
good thing, since we then accidentally gybed, blowing the preventer block, but
somehow avoiding taking out the running back and the mast. All was chaos, as the crew swarmed on deck
and we fought to get the boat back under control and put a third reef in the
main. We didn’t notice the vang had died
until well after daylight.
Day 7 – July 17, 2016
After the excitement of our accidental gybe, we were very
subdued the following day. We proceeded
Our First Fish |
Day 7 saw us reach the halfway point. We had planned a party to celebrate the event. I was so tired that I passed out and missed the entire production. Cecile cooked Mahi Mahi and made salad, which they washed down with chardonnay. I slept, although I did eat some of the tasty fish and salad when I got up for my 6 pm watch. Tired as I was, I didn’t dare touch the wine until after my watch at 10 pm, when I sat up long enough to drink a glass of wine and munch a few Pringles.
Once again, the evening was squally with intermittent showers. Cecile and Scott spent the evening hours repairing the boom vang. They reformed the bent mast fitting and reattached the eight screws that had pulled out of the mast and then reinforceded the vang with three metal bands. It seemed to be holding. For purposes of race communications, we had remained on California time, but we were now so far west that it didn’t get dark until 10:00 at night. Dawn did not show its face until well after my watch ended at 6 am.
Day 8 – July 18, 2016
Triple Reefed Main |
Day 9 – July 19, 2016
Buona Sera Passing By |
Day 10 – July 20, 2016
Ten days without a shower tied my previous record sailing
from Cabo San Lucas to Turtle Bay in 2001.
We probably had enough water for bathing, but could never have managed
it on the heaving boat. It got
warmer as we continued south and, though it was still mostly cloudy, I shed my
long underwear and fleece jacket by afternoon.
Me Steering Through Squalls |
Day 11 – July 21, 2016
Gin & Tonics in the Cockpit |
Our First Real Sunset |
Day 12 – July 22, 2016
The weather was gorgeous all day and the wind cooperated
with our goal of sailing slowly. I had
found sleeping on Aeriagnie very difficult, due to her excessive rolling motion
and lack of padded surfaces. With a
gentler motion, I was finally able to catch up on sleep and I slept all day
when not on watch. Around dinner time,
we caught two Mahi Mahi, the second of which bled all over the cockpit and the
lines coiled on the sole. I was covered
in fish blood by the time we got that mess cleared away.
Scott with Our Mahi Mahi |
Day 13 – July 23, 2016
Despite the overnight clouds, we had another sunny day of
sailing with slightly higher winds. The
8:00 weather briefing failed to change our strategy. We caught another Mahi-Mahi in the early
afternoon, but only Cecile was disappointed when he got away. None of us wanted to deal with more fish guts
when the refrigerator was already full of fish.
Cecile cooked some of the fish for lunch and it was excellent. We continued sailing straight for Kaneohe.
The day’s standings showed us in 4th place in our class.
Flying Fish Make Great Appetizers |
Day 14 – July 24, 2016
The weather continued clear and we sailed hard towards the
finish. Someone threw out the line and
we caught two more Mahi Mahi within an hour.
I even hauled one aboard myself.
The cockpit was covered in fish blood and it got all over the lines and
then all over us. The crew issued a
desist order after the second fish.
Sometimes the Floor Was the Safest Place |
When Scott and I came on watch at 2:00 am, Ben was
seasick. It was pitch dark and very
disorienting and he had become dehydrated from sitting outside in the sun
driving all day while Cecile handled the radio and other tasks. Scott and I had been able to split the
driving more equally and we were in better shape. The moon finally rose later in our watch,
which made it easier to steer. Steering
in the pitch dark with nothing but a number on an instrument for input was very
difficult to do for long periods.
We Couldn't See Much of the Islands |
We never did see Oahu because it got dark before the clouds
lifted. The first we saw of our
destination was the green and white flashing beacon that marked one end of the
finish line. The winds got lighter and
lighter and we approached the finish. It
seemed like forever before we made the 5 mile check in, but at least the driving
got easier. The hard part was locating
the finish line in the moonless night.
We had to line up two lights and then call the race committee on the
radio when we crossed, all while writing down the coordinates and shining a
light at the race committee. We were
very busy. It completely escaped us that
we should have noted our finish time, but it was around 22:30.
Shortly after we finished, we were met by an escort boat
which led us down the Sampan Channel and through the coral fields to the
Kaneohe Yacht Club. It was so dark that
even with our escort displaying a strobe light, it required concentration to
keep him in sight against the shore lights.
The water was very shallow and the depth sounder indicated we should
have been aground, but we made it without mishap.
Suddenly, we were in the marina and they were telling Cecile
that, after having the whole Pacific Ocean to maneuver in, we had to back into
a 20 foot slip. She managed it handily
and there were lots
of people on the dock to assist in tying us securely.
A large crowd of people assembled to meet us. Our first visitor was the safety inspector who verified that we still had all the required gear. Then we were presented with a participation plaque. Ben’s family sent us a beautiful lei for the boat. Finally, the lei and tray folks arrived with leis for each of us, mai tais, and trays of pineapple which we devoured immediately. Tired as we were, we repaired to the bar for another round of drinks. It must have been at least 3:00 am before we got showers and actually hit the hay.
Aeriagnie in Her Lei |
A large crowd of people assembled to meet us. Our first visitor was the safety inspector who verified that we still had all the required gear. Then we were presented with a participation plaque. Ben’s family sent us a beautiful lei for the boat. Finally, the lei and tray folks arrived with leis for each of us, mai tais, and trays of pineapple which we devoured immediately. Tired as we were, we repaired to the bar for another round of drinks. It must have been at least 3:00 am before we got showers and actually hit the hay.