Slogging all day and night.

After a few great days of sailing, we've finally been let down by the wind
gods. Our friendly strong breeze departed in the early morning hours as
Saturday dawned mostly overcast with light and highly variable winds.
Driving the boat became a game of cat and mouse, trying to keep our boat
speed up while trimming the sails to maximize whatever wind came our way.
With wind direction swinging unpredictably through a range of 40 degrees,
and speeds running up and down from 5 knots to a maximum of 13 knots it was
a challenge to stay ahead of the changes and keep the boat pointing
correctly to keep the speed up. As each helmsman took his and her trick at
the wheel, there was always an initial learning curve as they settled in as
best and as quickly as they could. After dark, this would lead to the
occasional major mistake...
During the afternoon, the skies opened up a bit and let some welcome
sunlight down to light up the Pacific blue water. A gorgeous sunset came
through the broken clouds on the horizon to become the highlight of a day
that was spent in slow motion gyrations as the boat rose slowly on the
swells, hunting for much needed wind.
Bugs broke out the sextant and looked quite the old salt; standing tall next
to the binnacle with the sextant held high, taking star sights in the
gathering twilight. With the clouds closing the bit of open sky left over
from the afternoon, this became quite a challenge, but Bugs perservered and
managed a couple of sights and then the night closed in around us.
And close in it did. The clouds gathered dark and low and the night became
one of those pitch black affairs, with no visible horizon at all. Though we
were blessed with no rain, it was even more the driver's nightmare. The
winds refused to cooperate, and with no reference points to drive by, and
virtually no feel in the wheel, the strain of vertigo, dyslexia, and the
tendency to just go plain bonkers staring at all the performance numbers
would have been evident on every wheelman's face, though it was quite
impossible to see that in the overwhelming darkness.
Switching helmsman was occasionally accompanied by a comedy of errors,
sometimes major ones, though each event was always a slow motion affair that
was never truly dangerous. Call of "head up, head up, head up NOW" were
quickly followed by "NO, THE OTHER UP", as new helmsman were tricked by the
orange performance numbers into going the wrong way. Everyone eventually
settled down and got down to the business keeping on keeping on. And so we
did, all night long and well into the next day. It's been a slow slog, 175
hard driven miles down the track.

Jay