Pacific Cup Day 9 Recap – Oh My God

The last 24 hours have been an experience I hope to never repeat. Just unbelievably challenging and yet we are still trucking. This mornings daily position report that we normally receive at 11am hasn’t come in yet as of 12:45pm. Not sure why, but it is sure missed we tried really, really hard overnight and it would be nice to know if that was worth anything, because frankly if it wasn’t we will throttle way back as the current pace is insane and unsustainable unless the wind drops off soon.

Yesterday we really, really good sailing. 20 knots with the A4, we did 206 miles from 8pm to 8pm. Got lots of rest during the day too. Then around 7:30 we saw a squall coming our way so we doused the A4 and let it pass in front of us. Put the A4 back up and we were off again. So far so good. Trouble was the wind speed increased to over 25 squall or no. So we switched down to the Gennaker and carried on. Bit of a slow change as the Gennaker didn’t furl correctly last time we took it down, so it was half furled. We ended up unfurling it completely and hoisting that way with no issues. Then we were off, regularly holding 10+ knots for multiple waves, not just surfs. Super controllable, until… About 1:45am (of course it is always at o’dark thirty), we rounded up in a puff and blew the gennaker to smitherins. It is almost funny what was left when I went forward to take it down. Only the luff tape and foot remained. The rest was dragging in the water by threads. Fortunately, that was our oldest sail and while it was perfect for the situation and sorely missed now, it was a long-term love/hate relationship, so no tears were shed. Without the gennaker and the breeze still above 25 we took stock and rested for 1.5 hours or so, sailing with just the main. Trouble is because we have a bow sprit and fly asymmetrical spinnakers we don’t have a whisker pole onboard to hold out a genoa and go wing on wing. If we did, that’s what we have done. With only the main up the motion was horrible as we rolled severely in the waves. So after watching the wind stay below 25 knots for awhile we decided to go back to A4. Quite possibly the worst decision I’ve ever made it my life and one Chris will never let me forget. The good news we’ve been going really, really fast ever since. The bad news is that it is taking every ounce of our energy to keep the boat upright. We got the A4 sock hoisted and in the process of raising the sock, the halyard slipped about 6 feet. This is our secondary spinnaker halyard which we never use, but because we broke the primary on the second day, we’ve been using it exclusively. It turns out the cover is really slippery and even through a rope clutch and around a winch it can still slip. While Chris fought to raise the halyard back up, I fought to pull the sock back down on the spinnaker. The halyard was secured, but as I tried to raise the sock back up I lost a hold of the sock control lines, the sock and hoop zoomed to the top of the mast, along with the control lines. Well, the spinnaker was flying and we were off. When I returned to the cockpit it was blowing 31 and we were plowing a hole in the ocean. It almost pitch black, the moon obscured by full cloud cover, and I know had the punishment for my decision. Hand-steering in the dark in 25+ with A4 up for the next 4 hours. That’s more hours than I steered crossing the entire Atlantic. Normally our NKE autopilot does the steering, but with too much sail and sloppy seas the risk of another roundup and A4 destruction was very, very real. Without the sock control lines we had so simple way to get the A4 that we were familiar with. It was grim. I started falling asleep standing up, but it was taking every ounce of concentration to keep the boat pointed the right direction. One of the hardest things I’ve ever done and I’ve finished an Ironman.

Eventually the sun came, the breeze eased off to the low 20’s and the autopilot was able to steer most of time, still requiring close monitoring though to avoid a round up or spinnaker collapse if we went too low. The seas were not helping at all. Complete mess. We ended calling our daily position report instead emailing to avoid having to mess with the dial up process. We did form a plan to get the kite down. We went over it together step by step several times and waited for the wind to drop below 20 knots. Then we went for a letterbox drop, pulling the lazy sheet between the foot of now reefed main (we did that before putting the A4 back up thank goodness), then blowing the tack line and pulling the foot through. Chris pulled both the lazy sheet and tack line down the main hatch (with the dodger window open), then she eased the spin sheet and slowly eased the halyard while I pulled the rest of the sail through the slot. It worked perfectly!!!

We still managed a 200 mile day even with the periods of sailing with only a main. Now without much of a choice. Either we push on, or essentially quit racing, we sorted out the A4 again, put it back up and we are off to the races once more. It is blowing 20-26. 20 is good. 26 not so much. The three of us (Chris, me, and Nikki the autopilot) are taking turns. Nikki steers when it is lighter and we steer when it picks up. Manageable, but not sustainable. If the wind doesn’t back off by nightfall we will have to douse. We can’t do another night like the last. Neither has gotten any rest/sleep for the past 12 hours and it is looking terribly promising in the near future. Just brief cat naps in the cockpit while the other drives. Occassionally the spin sheet needs a tug or an ease and we can’t do that and steer at the same time, so both of us are needed.

Gotta run.

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