Laurie,
Having a great time floating in the middle of the ocean. Say hi to Ollie!
Love,
Eric
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Day 4 - Bugs
What's the opposite of speed? Because that's what has developed over the
last day. We didn't expect the srong winds early, or the light winds that
control us now. Such is the randomness of the wind that the biggest boats
that started today enjoyed very strong wind, launching them after us at high
speed
last day. We didn't expect the srong winds early, or the light winds that
control us now. Such is the randomness of the wind that the biggest boats
that started today enjoyed very strong wind, launching them after us at high
speed
Aboard our boat, navigator Steve Steiner and I wrestled with the old
technology of celestial navigation. We have half a dozen GPS receivers
aboard, which give us our position within twenty feet. Neither of us has
done a star sight in a decade. But at the end of the race, each boat is
required to show four successful position fixes by shooting the stars.
So this was our first attempt. The conditions were poor, but clouds can
cover the entire course, and we needed to get our shots in while we could.
Last night, clouds covered about three quarters of the sky, leaving only
scattered openings in which to fund bright navigation stars. I used the
do-the-best-you-can technique of shooting whatever I could see, without
knowing the name of star. Then a little calculator program helps you figure
out the star later. After hours of stuggling to re-learn the calculator
system, we figured out that we had decent shots of Vega and Polaris. We
plotted them on the chart and found out that we were within twenty miles of
our actual position. To us, it was a triumph, even though it was five
thousands times as far away as our GPS receivers cold tell us. We will get
better.
Our fleet position report at 0600 today (Sunday) still had us second in
class and third in fleet. But by tomorrow we will be more scrambled. Wind is
blowing stronger in some areas than in others, and our slow winds today are
likely to drop us back.
Food report: A continuing delight. Pasta Bolognese for dinner, accompanied
by grated Parmesan cheese, a full salad with tomatoes, and for dessert:
homemade lemon cake. If the clement weather continues, this will be my first
race ever where I returned heavier than when I started.
Health report: The Big Cold found a fourth victim. Ashley Perrin laughed
when she went over to the galley sink and found lined up Dayquil, Vitamin C,
NyQuil, and dishwashing liquid.
This is a very congenial crew, and everyone is having a good time. Sounds
like a cliche, but it's true.
Bugs
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.
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
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