It's been over a week at sea and this is my second day of true racing. The wind is up and there are heavy swell, albeit confused, maybe because of last night's rain? When I get up it is still raining, so I use this time to clean up. Standing in the rain is great to rinse off, so I wash my hair again. I get some food, check my position and look up for position reports. Too early for today's report but I hope that my efforts from the day before will have resulted in some gain. The mileage is good for that day and significant more than my daily average beforehand.
Today, it is clear that given the conditions, it will be difficult for the AP to drive with the kite up, so I am breaking the day into two parts. Kite up and in cockpit all the time, mostly driving and kite down, twin sails up, resting, cleaning up, etc...
I call Nathan on the sat phone and tell him that the spinnaker was up for 16 hours, about 7 of those, without any AP help because of the conditions. It stops raining while we are on the phone and I am starting to see the end of the cloud cover a few miles away behind the boat. Soon, it will be sunny again. I am all excited on the phone - that first week was extremely helpful as it gave me perspective on my personal situation, I have come to accept it and am ready to move on. The second week was just 100% fun and except for one day, hard racing. I would either be smiling, or be laughing looking at cat butts near the nav station.
I try to get weather information but for some reasons, all the emails that I am trying to send get stuck in the Outbox of the email client. I give myself 30 minutes to try to fix this problem but I can't find a solution. The Internet link is just fine and I haven't done anything differently than what I have done in the past. Unfortunately, I didn't subscribe to weather info, so when I want weather info I need to request it, ie send an email. Since I can't send emails I can't receive weather info, even though I receive all the position reports just fine. I decide that the best thing to do is just keep going. Wind isn't a problem at all right now, there is plenty of wind, maybe over 20 knots looking at sea state and I have a heavy weather spinnaker should it further increase.
I get enough food, drinks, sunscreen and clothes/sun protections within cockpit access, I walk forward to take the twin sails down and set up the net. I then set up France, the heavy weather spinnaker ready for hoist.
Port pole allows me to steer between 210 and 240 (240 magnetic is pointing at Kauai), 200 is my 'fence' so port pole it will be today. I can do 240 as soon as the boat surfs as the wind goes forward so I decide to drive to the kite today instead of trimming it and drive straight.
Hoisting the kite is a bit of a challenge as it fills up (I have let a lot of scope on the sheet but I did tie the sheet as I didn't want to end up with no line at all) too quickly, or in other words I am too slow hoisting it. I still have a few feet to go and I have a fully powered kite. I drive down a bit and square the pole which collapses the kite. At the same time, I pulled on the halyard as fast as I can to make the last few feet. The net is prevent the kite from completely wrapping around anything.
I then can pull on the sheet to trim it correctly and I adjust the pole so that it matches course to steer.
The minute the kite is up, the boat roars forward - there is a bow wave, even when it is not catching a wave and surfing. Base speed is around 9 knots and the boat will surf 15 knots easily again. From experience, I know that this type of boat speed and constant bow wave where the boat really takes off is achieved when there is over 23 knots of wind, so I am betting that I am seeing 25-ish knots of wind right now.
Not a problem, I have steered Elise in 38 knots around Point Conception. Turns out that the more wind there is, the faster she is and the more stable she is.
I take a few minutes to adjust to the new rhythm of the boat with the kite up. The boat feels more stable to me because it is faster, so some of the lighter swell becomes irrelevant, the boat just flies over it. I look up and get a feel for the sail. I think of Nathan, what he would do in these conditions, he's crank the pole aft, get max sail area and sail as far down as possible.
This terrifies me because Nathan is usually a more daring driver than I am. But today, I am racing and there is no Nathan on the boat. After I get comfortable with the kite, I decide to do just that. I crank the pole aft, reducing my groove and forcing me to hand steer for sure, I depower the kite but pulling in the twing on the sheet side and sit back.
I look at the knotmeter (I have a weakness, I am obsessed by boat speed) and it looks like I have gained a tenth of a knot. Over a day or even half a day, it is huge. I need to pay attention to the kite but the boat is fairly stable so driving doesn't require a huge mental effort.
The boat is just flying now. The power in the spinnaker is incredible - there is no rest. It feels as it the boat is sprinting to make up for its lateness. I am zigzagging between the swell, and at time the stern of the boat is lifted up, I look down as the boat is lying at a 25 degree angle down a wave and ready to fall down. It is the best feeling ever and what light boats are fantastic for.
I am happy as a clam and I nearly forget to eat. I figure that I wont' be able to keep the kite up for as long as the previous day if the wind doesn't abate to allow me to have the AP drive as fatigue is starting to make its effects felt since I slept through the timer the day before.
I still see a lot of bird but no marine sea life. I notice a smaller bird that's flying close to the surface of the water and I wonder how such a small bird can be so far away from land. Then I reason. 'wait, you're not a bird. you're a fish. I'm an idiot!!'
I keep a close eye on the compass as well as seeing water everywhere is very disorienting. I am still on my way to Hawaii, about 5 degrees South of 240 which is fantastic. Putting the pole aft was a good move and surprisingly I am able to drive in the narrower groove.
I drive with the kite up all day. The evening and night is going to be interesting. I see squalls on the horizon and they start to surround the boat. I can see that some will pass to the side of the boat but it will be tough to avoid a few. Tough for the AP to steer in these conditions...so I even have to pee in the friggin' cockpit!
The wind is slightly less toward the evening, I am estimating 17 or 18 knots or so. If there is an increase of 10 to 15 knots in the squall, I'd be facing about 30 knots which is fine. I have steered the boat in these conditions before, so no problem. I decide to leave the kite up.
Perhaps it is a competitive advantage of mine/my boat - able to steer in squalls with the kite up. I know that it means that I will not be able to sleep during that time as I can't let the autopilot handle that with the kite up. (something the AP can steer with a gain 5 with the twin sail, requires a gain of 8 with the kite up)
The first squall hits with a downpour and a freshening breeze. The boat takes off again. I check the time and this one lasts about 1.5 hrs. I exited left so even though I have lighter breeze coming out of the squall, it is not completely dead and within very short minutes, the boat is back to its pre-squall state. I used the lighter stuff to turn the boat and myself into night mode as the AP worked just fine at that point.
I see more and more squalls forming on the horizon. The second squall hits maybe 45 minutes later but I could see it come well before then and it seems that it carries more wind than the other but very little water. Trying to avoid it would have made me steer well away from the islands so even though it is tiring to sail through squall I decided to use them to my advantage that night. Just a tiny bit of drizzle and not even for the entire length of the squall. I am looking up at the spinnaker and wondering if and how I should take it down. Will this be the last squall? How long will it last? I am starting to feel tired for having driven most of the day.
Ultimately I decide to take the spinnaker down half way (but I don't know that yet) through the squall which will ultimately last a couple of hours. No water at all. A perfect take down behind the main. Nice work. I walk forward and I set up the twin sail at the end of the squall in the slightly lighter stuff - with all sorts of choice words about how big a chore that was...The boat stabilizes.
There will be two other squalls that night and basically, it will keep me up close to dawn. Exhausted, I collapsed on the cabin floor (I am wet from the drizzle and I sleep for a couple of hours. The batteries are well topped up and still have fuel from the first jug but it is becoming empty quicker now that I demand more of the batteries.
I can't sleep any longer for some reason. My senses are acutely aware that things are happening around me and they can't shut off my bodies so I stay below to rest but I don't get the sleep that I need. Mistake I will regret dearly later on.
And then it is another day!
The boat is just flying now. The power in the spinnaker is incredible - there is no rest. It feels as it the boat is sprinting to make up for its lateness. I am zigzagging between the swell, and at time the stern of the boat is lifted up, I look down as the boat is lying at a 25 degree angle down a wave and ready to fall down. It is the best feeling ever and what light boats are fantastic for.
I am happy as a clam and I nearly forget to eat. I figure that I wont' be able to keep the kite up for as long as the previous day if the wind doesn't abate to allow me to have the AP drive as fatigue is starting to make its effects felt since I slept through the timer the day before.
I still see a lot of bird but no marine sea life. I notice a smaller bird that's flying close to the surface of the water and I wonder how such a small bird can be so far away from land. Then I reason. 'wait, you're not a bird. you're a fish. I'm an idiot!!'
I keep a close eye on the compass as well as seeing water everywhere is very disorienting. I am still on my way to Hawaii, about 5 degrees South of 240 which is fantastic. Putting the pole aft was a good move and surprisingly I am able to drive in the narrower groove.
I drive with the kite up all day. The evening and night is going to be interesting. I see squalls on the horizon and they start to surround the boat. I can see that some will pass to the side of the boat but it will be tough to avoid a few. Tough for the AP to steer in these conditions...so I even have to pee in the friggin' cockpit!
These do look like regular squalls, the one I am used to. Strangely, I am still able to basically steer toward the island and I expect to be headed during the squall. I am on port pole and I really shouldn't jibe because I will otherwise find myself heading even further up (on a lift this time) away from the island. So I stay on this jibe.
I move the pole slightly forward to depower the kite a tad bit and to increase my groove in anticipation of the squall hitting - and also because my ability to head up a bit more will keep me closer to the islands without sacrificing speed in heavier winds.
Here is a squall with rain
The wind is slightly less toward the evening, I am estimating 17 or 18 knots or so. If there is an increase of 10 to 15 knots in the squall, I'd be facing about 30 knots which is fine. I have steered the boat in these conditions before, so no problem. I decide to leave the kite up.
Perhaps it is a competitive advantage of mine/my boat - able to steer in squalls with the kite up. I know that it means that I will not be able to sleep during that time as I can't let the autopilot handle that with the kite up. (something the AP can steer with a gain 5 with the twin sail, requires a gain of 8 with the kite up)
The first squall hits with a downpour and a freshening breeze. The boat takes off again. I check the time and this one lasts about 1.5 hrs. I exited left so even though I have lighter breeze coming out of the squall, it is not completely dead and within very short minutes, the boat is back to its pre-squall state. I used the lighter stuff to turn the boat and myself into night mode as the AP worked just fine at that point.
I see more and more squalls forming on the horizon. The second squall hits maybe 45 minutes later but I could see it come well before then and it seems that it carries more wind than the other but very little water. Trying to avoid it would have made me steer well away from the islands so even though it is tiring to sail through squall I decided to use them to my advantage that night. Just a tiny bit of drizzle and not even for the entire length of the squall. I am looking up at the spinnaker and wondering if and how I should take it down. Will this be the last squall? How long will it last? I am starting to feel tired for having driven most of the day.
Ultimately I decide to take the spinnaker down half way (but I don't know that yet) through the squall which will ultimately last a couple of hours. No water at all. A perfect take down behind the main. Nice work. I walk forward and I set up the twin sail at the end of the squall in the slightly lighter stuff - with all sorts of choice words about how big a chore that was...The boat stabilizes.
There will be two other squalls that night and basically, it will keep me up close to dawn. Exhausted, I collapsed on the cabin floor (I am wet from the drizzle and I sleep for a couple of hours. The batteries are well topped up and still have fuel from the first jug but it is becoming empty quicker now that I demand more of the batteries.
I can't sleep any longer for some reason. My senses are acutely aware that things are happening around me and they can't shut off my bodies so I stay below to rest but I don't get the sleep that I need. Mistake I will regret dearly later on.
And then it is another day!
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