Day 7 - We turn for home - Bugs

Wednesday began with concerns that we had covered too little ground in the
first six days. Last night we broke through a cold front coming down from
the north, and there was no wind behind it. By morning, still moving slowly
in light air, we realized that decision time was upon us.

Fact: We have come about 775 miles in seven days, an extremely slow rate of
progress. The High that entrapped us makes any thought of a prize silly.
Fact: there are still almost 1450 nautical miles to go (about 1650 land
miles - like New York to Denver?). At any reasonable assumption based on the
weather maps, this will mean sailing for another eight to ten days, or more.
Fact: We have full food rations for only six days, including today. We have
emergency food for four days. To have a margin of safety, we would need to
put the crew on reduced rations to continue. Fact: We are carrying enough
fuel to make our fresh water and run our electric systems, with a reserve
for motring under power, for a bit over ten days.

So we had to recognize that any really competetive racing had disappeared in
the slow days of near-drifting in the High. If we contintue, it will be
somewhat pointless, and carry a risk that we could get ourselves in trouble
with food, fuel, or water.

"Sail fast, be safe, have fun," is how co-skipper Bill Hubbard said it.
"We're not sailing fast, it wouldn't be safe to continue, and it won't be
fun to go hungry or thirsty to finish at the tail end of the fleet."

So at 1625 today (Wednesday) we turned the boat around, called the Race
Committee on the high frequency radio, and notified them that we withdrew
from the race. Nobody was happy about the decision, but everybody agreed it
was the right thing to do. There's always 2009!

There are two possible ports to return to. The better one is San Francisco,
the boat's home port. But the wind patterns may be too directly against us
to make that practical. If so, we will head for Santa Barbara. Either way,
we expect some rugged days in 25-knot wind before we are home. Perhaps five
days to port -- arriving Monday -- is a reasonable guess at a return date.
Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, we have already rejiggered the boat for cruising. Most of the
highest-tech racing gear is put away, bunks have been rearranged, and
thoughts of food rationing have been gleefuly abandoned.

Bugs

Day 6: Still slow going, and going, and going...

To recap, we got off to a great start and had two great days of racing. The
weather forecast for the third day showed the area of high pressure (the
"High", where winds are light, and so should be avoided at all cost)
currently in the fleet's path was moving NW, out of our track - clearing the
way down to Hawaii. The reality of day 3 was that the High slowed down,
started expanding, and we, with a number of other boats, became trapped in
it. We continued south as that was still the fasted way out of the High and
to the breeze at its edge.
On day 4 and day 5, the High had still not moved off and we stayed stuck in
the middle, still trying to get south of it. The High had become stationary
and so trying to get further south still looked like our best bet.
Today, day 6, the High was supposed to be dissipating, and a cold front was
pushing down from the north. Now our quickest escape was to head north,
towards the front, which would be pushing the High south as it dissipated,
helping us get out quicker than if we were to continue south. So we set
sail to the north, in hopes of escaping what had become our real adversery,
the High that had held us for days.
We had another beautiful, sunny day, with better wind than the day before.
Though we had periods of light or no wind, we had decent breeze for most of
the afternoon. As the evening drew near, we contacted the initial edge of
the cold front, as evidenced by a few rain showers in the area. The winds
soon died, as they sometimes do around sunset, and we struggled to make
further progress.
After dark, we were treated to a clear, bright Milky Way, with a far number
of meteors providing additional entertainment. Progress was slow but
measurable throughout the night. Around 5AM, we sailed through the cold
front, where the winds were light, but the rain heavy. As the temperature
is balmy at this lattitude, the rain was actually more welcome than not, and
within minutes, we popped out of the other side of the front, in clear
skies, smooth waters, and unfortunately, light winds.
We covered just under 100 nautical miles today. We continue to download the
latest weather information and will soon find out if our northerly strategy
will pay off. Till then, like that pink bunny, we'll keep going, and going,
and going...
Jay

Day 5 - The slows - Bugs

The last thing you want in an ocean race is a beautiful, calm day with a
glassy sea. So that's what we have. We know that as we sit around trying to
nurse another tenth of a knot out of the sails, to the south of us boats are
speeding along to Hawaii. But the weather can change again, and reverse
fortunes.

Basically everything is fine aboard. The food is awesome -- fresh peaches at
breakfast today, with another of Robin Hubbard's creations now defrosting
for dinner. Everyone's mood is good. I'd say we are just a bit bored waiting
for the wind to reappear.

Back on watch soon.

Bugs

Day 5 - fun in the sun

If you recall the previous post about slogging all day and night, you might
re-read it, as it pretty well describes our Day 4 night if you add in cooler
temperatures, fog, mist, and light rain. With a little less than zero wind
for a good part of the night, it's safe to say that no one was looking
forward to going on watch.
The maneuver of the night went to the starboard watch, who learned when
coming off watch that they'd turned a complete loop without realizing it.
The only evidence was the track on the gps chart plotter. Just goes to show
you how difficult conditions can be out here. On the other hand it provided
a good laugh when the tale was told, which was just the ticket when you're
going on deck at 2AM, knowing that you're going to be struggling to do
anything but stay in the same spot for the next 3 hours. As it turned out,
we had enough wind to a make slow but sure progress down the track. Which
just goes to show you how a little humour can go a long way.
Day 5 dawned cool and misty, and the sun struggled to make its usual
appearance. We emerged from a fog bank and found ourselves in the clear,
looking back at the wall of mist we'd just come from and looking forward to
some warmer, sunnier weather for the day. A partial rainbow formed off our
port bow and the day began.
As the morning wore on, the mist wore off, leaving us in sparkling blue
Pacific waters on a brilliantly sunny day. The only issue was the
continuing lack of wind. On board weather analysis showed us in the middle
of a high pressure area that had formed around us in a most unfortunate turn
of the weather systems we'd be tracking. What had started out as a very
advantageous track had now turned against us and our job now is to find the
fastest way out of the high pressure zone to better winds at its edges.
While we're disappointed at this turn of events, we're still driving the
boat as hard as possible and morale remains high. There's still a long way
to go and much can happen in the coming days.
In the mean time, a dip in the pure ocean water, some clean clothes, and fun
in the sun will do nicely until favorable winds fill our sails again.

24 hour mileage: 120nm

Jay

Hi Honey

Laurie,
Having a great time floating in the middle of the ocean. Say hi to Ollie!
Love,
Eric

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

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.

Jay