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
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Day3 - Noonish - Bugs
I am sure that by now everyone has discovered that the satellite tracking
system does not work. It seems not to have been tested . We understand that
the Race Committee is posting positions once a day based on our 0600
reports. Great.
system does not work. It seems not to have been tested . We understand that
the Race Committee is posting positions once a day based on our 0600
reports. Great.
Jay Sacco's first report told you about the terrifying start. Let me tell
you about the Curse of California: kelp. Kelp is a long, thick variety of
seaweed that is ecologically very valuable. It is the spawning area of many,
many types of fish. It is also the spawning ground of many a sailor's
curses. Some of it gets loose from the bottom and floats up to the surface.
Because it is so long and somewhat sticky, it can wrap itself around
sailboat's keels and rudders, crating huge drag.
To most of us East Coast sailors, kelp is a non-existent problem. But off
the Pacific coast, it is a never-ending source of problems. We were advised
by the West Coast sailors in our crew to stop the boat and drive backwards
for a short distance to clean off any kelp we might have picked up on the
7-mile run to the start. We did it. But about thirty minutes into the race,
we started losing speed compared to the boats around us. Two of our West
Coast crew leaned far over the side and looked down. There was something tan
around our keel, and big. So we stopped the boat, set the sails to go
backward, and saw a big yellow-tan blob float off in front of us. Then back
to business, racing. We lost perhaps a half mile of distance in that
episode. Just the breaks.
The boat is settled down. We all know how to handle the sails, who has each
job, how the meals appear, where to sleep.We can focus entirely in the
racing.
To the average urban dweller, "weather" means will it rain? How hot will it
be? How humid will it be? What's the pollen count? To the racing sailor,
rain, humidity, temperature an pollen are completely irrelevant. Only the
direction and force of the wind mean anything. The wind is our engine.
Steve Steiner, our navigator, knows as much about the weather in this race
as anybody. He's done this race four times before, including winning the
race once, and has sailed over 250,000 miles. He has been analyzing the
weather since long before the start.During the first day, he explained to us
with a weather chart exactly why were enjoying a fine, strong breeze. "There
is no explanation. This wind should not exist. We're in a high. The wind
should be light. It's just happening." See how valuable it is to have an
experienced navigator?
We do have a strategy. Right now we are second in class and third in
fleet.There are two competitors from our division about 30-40 miles north
and slightly ahead. The rest of the fleet is south of us, including most of
our class. So now we are aiming further south to stay between the bulk of
our class and the finishing line. We are leaving our two competitors to the
north in the expectation that their wind will become light sooner than ours.
Time will tell.
Thus far we have had 24-hour runs of 220 and 218 miles. A splendid
beginning. The race has three main stages left: about 200 miles to the
tradewinds, then 1500 miles in the tradewinds, and the final hundred miles
in the wild and wooly approach to the finish line along the coast of
Molokai, where boats surf down 12-15 foot waves in howling winds.
Health report: three of the crew came down with heavy colds just before and
just after the start. They seem to have largely gone away.No bangs, scrapes,
burns, or punctures yet. So far, so good.
Food report: Robin Hubbard played den mother to us, preparing pre-race food
and party-makings. And she prepared eleven full dinners that have been
frozen and packed in dry ice. First night: a wonderful quiche in two
styles -- with steak, and with salmon. Second night: a memorable paella with
giant shrimp and scallops. To die for (not of). You burn a lot of extra
energy in a race like this, so Robin's copious and wonderful dinners are a
marvelous addition not just to our calorie intake, but to our enjoyment of
the whole Transpac experience.
Our electronics seem to be working perfectly, thanks to Jay Sacco's
month-long prerace preparation. We get government weather charts and
forecast as easily as you turn on your TV at home. For you techies, we have
moved out of the range of close-to-shore Globalstar, and are now using an
Iridium phone.
Bugs
Friday, July 13, 2007
Off to a great start
The weather was perfect as we left the dock, the Race Announcer introducing
each boat and her crew to the gallery, followed by a cannon salute. The
Delicate Balancer's waved goodbye as to the crowd as we left the harbor on
our way to the starting line off Point Fermin.
After days of light to no winds, which left the ealier starting boats only
a couple of hundred miles offshore, we were enjoying solid 18-22 knots of
breeze, with a cloudless blue sky, and moderate seas. The start was more
than a little exciting as all the boats went for a committee boat start,
bunching up and jockeying for a spot on the starting line.
Delicate Balance was positioned off the right end of the line, coming in a
little fast while watching the boats below us fight for a spot. As one of
the boats was pushed away from the line and peeled off behind us, we were
surging just past the committee boat, running out of room to dive down and
get through the line. At the last second, our opportunity presented itself
as another boat below us, not getting through on the line had to gybe
around, opening up a hole that might just be big enough for us to dive into
if our timing was just right. We dove hard, snuck just behind and within a
few feet the committee boat stern, and just ahead of the gybing boat, who
was coming up just on our hip. With no room to spare, we made a fast
getaway and had ourselves a good start.
Since then it's been a beautiful sail, upwind till we left Catalina Island
behind at 1830 hours and then cracked off as we headed out into the Pacific
in search of the tradewinds to take us to Hawaii. The night was stunning,
clear, cloudless, and absolute dark without a moon. Venus was huge and
bright as the evening star, and the Milky Way stood out like you could reach
out and grab it. The air was brisk but not uncomfortable as we reached
along at 9 knots or so all night and into the morning.
As we completed our morning check in and received the position reports
from the Race Committe, we find ourselves in 2nd position in Division 4, and
3rd overall in fleet. There's a long way to go and plenty of opportunity to
do well or make big mistakes, but so far we're off to a great start.
each boat and her crew to the gallery, followed by a cannon salute. The
Delicate Balancer's waved goodbye as to the crowd as we left the harbor on
our way to the starting line off Point Fermin.
After days of light to no winds, which left the ealier starting boats only
a couple of hundred miles offshore, we were enjoying solid 18-22 knots of
breeze, with a cloudless blue sky, and moderate seas. The start was more
than a little exciting as all the boats went for a committee boat start,
bunching up and jockeying for a spot on the starting line.
Delicate Balance was positioned off the right end of the line, coming in a
little fast while watching the boats below us fight for a spot. As one of
the boats was pushed away from the line and peeled off behind us, we were
surging just past the committee boat, running out of room to dive down and
get through the line. At the last second, our opportunity presented itself
as another boat below us, not getting through on the line had to gybe
around, opening up a hole that might just be big enough for us to dive into
if our timing was just right. We dove hard, snuck just behind and within a
few feet the committee boat stern, and just ahead of the gybing boat, who
was coming up just on our hip. With no room to spare, we made a fast
getaway and had ourselves a good start.
Since then it's been a beautiful sail, upwind till we left Catalina Island
behind at 1830 hours and then cracked off as we headed out into the Pacific
in search of the tradewinds to take us to Hawaii. The night was stunning,
clear, cloudless, and absolute dark without a moon. Venus was huge and
bright as the evening star, and the Milky Way stood out like you could reach
out and grab it. The air was brisk but not uncomfortable as we reached
along at 9 knots or so all night and into the morning.
As we completed our morning check in and received the position reports
from the Race Committe, we find ourselves in 2nd position in Division 4, and
3rd overall in fleet. There's a long way to go and plenty of opportunity to
do well or make big mistakes, but so far we're off to a great start.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
2 Days to Go - Race Tracking is now live
The slowest boats started yesterday, and race tracking is now live at http://trackinfo.fistracking.com/TP2007/VersionDetectionA.htm
We're in Division 4, and start on Thursday, 1PM PDT. The fastest boats start Sunday.
We've been working on the boat non-stop, getting all the details right before we head out. We put up our 3 new spinnakers today for the first time and we like what we saw. We'll do more sailing tomorrow, and finish up the remaining items on the todo list.
Wednesday night there's a reception and party in honor of all of us starting on Thursday and then the adventure will begin...
We're in Division 4, and start on Thursday, 1PM PDT. The fastest boats start Sunday.
We've been working on the boat non-stop, getting all the details right before we head out. We put up our 3 new spinnakers today for the first time and we like what we saw. We'll do more sailing tomorrow, and finish up the remaining items on the todo list.
Wednesday night there's a reception and party in honor of all of us starting on Thursday and then the adventure will begin...
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