Our Last Night at Sea

Boy, did we get sucker punched.  With about 150 miles to go on Sunday afternoon, we had a beautiful afternoon of sailing in about 15 knots of wind.  The seas had again laid down and it was very pleasant sliding down the long Pacific swells.  What a great way to end the race.  Brian, John and I got out the approach charts for Hawaii and made a plan for approaching Molokai and crossing the channel to Oahu and the finish.  The first jibe was right at sunset just after dinner.  Ominously, a squall blew through and we wisely delayed the jibe another half hour to wait for lighter winds.  The jibe completely without a hitch and we headed on into the night towards Molokai about 90 miles away.  Shifty decided to deliver in spades yet again.  The wind was blowing consistent 25 knots, with seas running 4-6 feet.  By ten o'clock we had worn out Brian and John.  Chris was steering when I came on watch.  He was doing an amazing job as the gusts just kept coming one after another.  I normally do ok in this stuff, but this evening even I was feeling intimidated as the boat was continually surfing down swell after swell, with lots of wind direction shifts and confusing cross swells.  Oh yeah, the clouds were covering the moon, too, so you couldn't see anything coming at you.  Normally, when the helmsman hands off the wheel to the next driver, it takes about 30 seconds for the new driver to get his senses, grab the wheel, and take over.  For me last night, I sat behind Chris and watched (in my mental fatigue and fog) for almost five minutes before I got the courage to jump in and take over.  Once you grab the wheel at 12 knots of boat speed in 25 knots of wind there is no second chance if you screw up.  The loads on the boat's rig and sails and the noise of the wind and water is incredible.  And there is the opportunity to blow up sails, masts and booms on every wave to the tune of tens of thousands of dollars of damage.  It's a total E-ticket ride with a continual adrenilin rush. 


One hour into my watch it was blowing too hard for the 2S spinnaker.  Brian wanted to change down to the blast reacher, but I talked him into putting up the heavy spinnaker.  We got all hands on deck to change down to the 4S spinnaker and put a reef in the main.  We pulled that off in about ten minutes at midnight and we were off again.  The wind continued to build with gusts to 26-29 knots and a building sea.  Soon, we were once again on the very ragged edge of control.  We were doing steady 10-12 knots of boat speed with surges to 14-15 knots, when a 30 knot gust hit, with white water and spray everywhere, and a high pitched hum in the hull that was beyond anything we had previously heard.  The stern lifted momentarily, the rudder seemed to stall and I very briefly panicked.  Too close to disaster.  Uncle!  This time no one questioned the decision to downshift to the blast reacher poled out opposite the main.  We carried that sail combination, under control, for most of the night in 30 knots of wind as we headed towards the Molokai Channel.  At dawn the wind backed off a little as we entered the channel to cross to Oahu.  We had just one hour of lead on Between the Sheets and we need to push hard to hang on to that.  We jibed, set the 4S spinnaker and headed for Koko Head and the finish at Diamond Head.  I drove most of the romp across the Molokai channel which is always notorious for the big winds and seas that pile up in the compression between the islands.  This morning was no disappointment as we had another 3 hours of wild sailing.  Jim drove the last six miles to finish at about 9:30am at Diamond Head, 2,300 miles and 13 1/2 days from our starting point. 


There were lots of big smiles, hugs, and a huge sigh of relief.  We had done what we set out to do, racing hard, having fun and completing one of the longer and more grueling offshore yacht races.  There was quite a sense of accomplishment as we came into the harbor and our boat and all crew members were introduced to the waiting crowd at Hawaii Yacht Club.  Within minutes of tying up, we were escorted to cold beers, Mai Tais, and a full lunch at the Hawaii Yacht Club along with our wives and friends that flew over to meet us.  As an added bonus, the finish board showed us as taking third place for our division against several other competitive and well sailed boats. 


Tomorrow we meet once again on Sauvage to offload all the refuse, slew the demons of stench, and try to make Jim's boat look once more like a yacht, instead of the homeless shelter it looks now.  Undoubtably, this will be one of the more daunting chores of the race.  For now, I'm just glad my bed doesn't bounce all over tonight and no one will be waking me up at 1am for my next watch.


-Jeff