As I can't sleep anymore, I go back up on deck to see the last of the squalls (I might have missed one while I was sleeping) clear the horizon and the sun is getting ready to appear.
I haven't seen a lot of sunrises (but every sunset) since I left since I often would go to sleep in the wee hours in the morning and get up past daylight and my timer would not be synchronized well with sunrises.
Unfortunately, the sky doesn't quite clear up but I still get to see a timid sun confirm that it still exists before disappearing behind a low barriers of grey clouds.
I go back down below, feeling as grim as the day. That's just because I haven't had food yet and I prevent myself from getting coffee and I am still tired from the previous night. I managed to get three more hours of sleep (I know this because I set the timer at 60 minute intervals so I can count my hours of sleep easily without even looking at my watch.
Still feeling a tad grumpy so time for food. This morning, my breakfast is one orange, apple juice and milk and cereals.
Happy bunny after that...I wash the dishes with sea water in a bucket with a bit of REI ecofriendly soap. I then check my barometer (I checked my barometer once a day or twice and day, sometimes making note of changes). I must have still been tired as I stare at the barometer for a good 10 minutes, thinking 'something is wrong with this, I am just not getting a reading'. Revelation ensued. The hand of the barometer that indicates pressure reading, is now lying at the bottom of the dial. The barometer is completely sealed so I can't just unscrew it and fix it. 'Hmm, no wonder I am not getting a reading, that barometer looks really ill. It probably couldn't take the pressure.'
I then do my morning clean up. I don't have the pleasure of standing up naked in the rain this morning. It is super damp but it isn't raining. So baby wipes it is.
I checked the position reports - unfortunately it is too early for today's report but I have yesterday's. I get them over email and Nathan SMS them to me. I have made big gains over Libra and I am catching up to Archimedes. There is no way that I can catch up before the finish but I remember my goal to gain at least 40 miles on Joe before I finish (I will have gained 60 miles by the time I cross the line). I have also picked up one boat! Yay! I am not DFL anymore!
I call Nathan briefly. I feel like I can't spend too much time on the phone today. I tell him about the weather and the squalls.
I call Nathan briefly. I feel like I can't spend too much time on the phone today. I tell him about the weather and the squalls.
I think of David Herrigel. I wish that he was still in the race. The early position reports show that he was doing really well and I had been really impressed by his start. I hope that he will do the 2016 race. This is something that I had told Nathan I was going to do. I even asked him to let Skip know - I will do it because 2014 is now officially unfinished business and because as soon as I started racing, I got the confirmation that I am just in love with this type of races, and that Elise is a great boat for it. The more I think about it, the more I think that I will do it in tribute to Wildflower, Skip's boat that disappeared in 2008, on his return trip. Skip's writeup has been the most helpful tool I have had during this trip. I remember every single line of his writeup and every day I find a lesson in there that applies to me. I had felt devastated when I learned about his scuttling the boat. I tried to imagine my doing so to Elise and it makes me feel sick.
I feel proud that Joe is leading our fleet and doing well overall but I feel a stronger bond with David on Domino. We spoke only briefly but I feel that we are the same kind of racers. We just like to be out there and give it all we can. We both enjoy flying kites in heavy conditions downwind. I don't think that Joe enjoys it in the same way, although I haven't spoken much with him either.
For a minute, I let my mind wander toward 2016. I know Jiri wants to do the race and after what I have seen when he crewed on Elise, he is an EXCELLENT sailor and Olson 30 are really tough to beat in this race. Jiri also has a lot of sailing experience and like me, seems to really enjoy racing on small boats. He feels the wind, the sails and the waves, much like I do. He spends the time to listen to the boat, much like I do. He communes with the boat, much like I do. With David and Jiri in the race, I know that it would be a really tough battle. Even though I would register in 2016 to go for the win, I know deep down that it is very unlikely that I could achieve this with such great sailors in the race in my division. It would be a fantastic battle though and one that I would have two years to prepare for. I have never raced for trophies - I race for the win every time, but it isn't for the trophy. It is because I want to be a better sailor. All the time. And I only achieve this through racing. When I do well, particularly when I do well against very good sailors, I know I have improves and I draw immense satisfaction from that. Elise is a great boat but for the longest time I couldn't sail her to her potential. I was the limiting factor. Now, I am starting to show myself worthy of her. I still have a long way to go but I have moments of brilliance in a deep sea of soso-ness.
Back to today. I am still racing and I have more boats to catch. So I'd better get on with it. I grab some food, water, sunscreen and I ditch my headlamp in the mesh bag by the companionway.
I go up on deck.
All I see is clouds and there is a fine drizzle that greets me. Brilliant.
Everywhere I look, it is cloudy. Birds are still there though. There is a very nice fresh breeze and I should be able to make good progress that day with the kite up.
Flying the twin headsail but getting ready to drop them so I am releasing the windward sheet so I can remove the pole.
Everywhere I look, it says rain. In fact, it says rain where I am too as it is drizzling!
As I walk forward to take the twinsail down and set up the spinnaker net I stumble across a dead flying fish! Oh no!!! We had found one during Pac Cup too. I feel so guilty. I am not supposed to be out there. I am the foreign object disturbing these little guys in their homes. It is a really decent size one and for a moment I wonder if I shouldn't prepare it as sushi for lunch. But then I feel too guilty to do that and I throw the fish back into the ocean, hoping that it will at least help other fish eat that day.
My first victim. I will transform the boat into a fish serial killer for the next few days...to my chagrin.
I get Libra up because the wind is still up but I assume that it will die down (I was wrong) and I drive most of the day. It keeps raining on and off. It's a bit chilly but I am not cold at all with my foul weather jacket.
I am starting to feel the effect of lack of sleep as I am not hungry at all during the day. I force myself to eat.
I start smelling gasoline. There are only two places on the boat that carries gasoline so if there is a leak it must come from one of them. I check the gas cans up on deck, they smell clean and I see no leak at all. I go down below and I notice a small leak from the engine. I screw up the top a bit more and put kitchen towel underneath the engine. Fortunately I have oil absorbing towel which I put in the bilge to absorb the oil that dripped there. I also must sacrifice my last two yogurts as I don't want to risk eating gas-seasoned yogurts. I was keeping them in the bilge to keep them cool. The smell is still present, albeit light so I will not use matches, or the stove down below until it completely dissipates. I keep the hatch open for ventilation which results in a really wet cabin floor as it rains all day on and off.
Water temperature now is about 77 degrees F.
It is sunny for about 4 minutes and 27 seconds. I drink Perrier which reminds me of home. The spring and factory is near where I grew up. We even took a field trip there with school.
The hands that I burned on the first couple of days of the trip (very windy but very sunny and my only starry nights of the trip) is starting to peel off completely. Oh well. No infection though!
Toward the end of the afternoon, the wind starts shifting big time. Within minutes, I find myself pointing at Japan, well above my Northern fence. I have to gybe to port pole. I am just underneath a big black cloud but the rain has stopped. I am looking at the kite and wondering if I can gybe in these conditions since the autopilot is having trouble keeping the boat upright for more than a few minutes (I keep trying but the waves would push the boat to the side - I never rounded up this trip, while driving, but I nearly rounded up once thanks to the autopilot). I feel fairly terrified at the idea of finding myself on a vertical deck while at the bow, having to walk back to release sheets and vangs and all and get the boat back up.
In a flash I remember that I am racing and that if my efforts pay off, I should be catching up with Libra today. My fear dissipates in 30 seconds. I put the AP on and I count the number of seconds I have before the boat gets out of control, working with the wave pattern I have learned. I have 5 minutes in the best case scenario. That should be plenty of time. I set everything up for a gybe and walk forward, clipped on of course. I even let some of the topping lift go so I have no resistance at all from the pole. I gybe without any trouble at all and I come back. I am using the countdown timer on my watch and wanted to give myself 30 seconds to walk back, worse case, dropping the pole to the deck or clipping it onto both lines. I didn't have to do that. I had plenty of time to complete the gybe.
In heavier weather I gybe the main first, so I had done that and when I walk back to the cockpit, I just need to trim the kite on the new course.
About an hour later, the main gybes violently. Wow. I didn't see this coming. The wind has just shifted 50 degrees. I gybe the main back but I am now going to New Zealand so I need to gybe back to stay on course to Hawaii. The good news is that after I do that, I should be heading straight to the islands again and the boat is doing a consistent 8 knots, surfing at 10-11 knots.
I try the same maneuver, timing the waves and the autopilot. I gybe the main and walk forward. The AP gybes the main back. Shit. I thought I had enough of an angle to the wind to prevent a wave gybing the main. I can't tell with the mast head fly. I decide to gybe the kite anyway and then walk back and gybe the main again. A bit more tricky but the boat doesn't broach. I gybe the main again only to find out that the main gybed because that's actually where it wants to be. I have to gybe again!!!! I can't believe it!
Every time I gybe is a big effort and I am not super well nourished by now. I grab some sugar and nibble on moldy goldfish crackers for a while. I decide to wait before gybing hoping that the wind will stabilize. It doesn't and I continue to make way toward the wrong end of the world.
I walk back forward one more time for one more gybe. This time, it works.
Phew. I sit back in the cockpit and I continue on my merry way. About 30 minutes later the wind changes again. The first black cloud has passed and is replaced by another one. This one has rain with it, but not much. I swear out loud. I can't believe this. I wonder how many more times I will have to gybe. I decide to NOT gybe, it is too much work and I keep going, fully expecting that the wind will shift again. So I pay attention so that I can follow it.
Of course it doesn't shift. I am absolutely certain that the minute I walk toward the foredeck, it will shift. I consider dropping the kite. I hate the idea because the boat will slow down but I know that gybing with the twin headsail is dead easy. Not only are the sails taking the load off the main, but you can stay sitting in the cockpit and just gybe the main across. However, dousing the kite, setting up the twin sails is a huge and exhausting endeavor. So if I do it, I know that it probably means that I will be sailing with the twin sails up until the morning, after I have gotten some rest.
With a morose expression on my face I decide to do that and I sure hope my competition is in the same shitty conditions. I douse the kite without any problem. The kite is wet and heavy with rain and it dips in the water under its own weight. I walk forward to drop the net and put the jib halyard onto the twin sails. I set up the second pole with the spin halyard and hoist the twin sail.
By sunset I am in a really bad mood and I hate all the black clouds in the world. Fortunately, it looks like the super dark clouds are disappearing on the horizon and of course I feel bad because if the constant shifts stop, there is no reason why I shouldn't be flying a kite, except that I feel tired now...I decide to have some food even though I don't feel hungry in the least.
I think that I have dodged the black clouds and I feel happy even though I am still wet from the rain. No shifts for a while. After some food, the racer in me cannot resist putting the spinnaker back up. Plus the wind feels lighter now.
The spinnaker goes back up on port pole. Bad plan...As soon as I do this, the black cloud comes back. And it is bringing rain. It is called Murphy's Law. I swear in French outloud. 'Merde, putain de nuage, tu peux pas rester coucher pour une fois? Tu fais vraiment chier avec tes vents tournants.'
Unfortunately that seems to only cause angst in the cloud and it responds with a huge wind shift. 40 degrees. I am now on a tight reach, with a light air spinnaker in more air that I can handle the spinnaker with. If I want to continue to sail to the island, I need a blast reacher! I steer down so I can keep the spinnaker up...Unfortunately I am now sailing to Russia which I had no short term plan to visit.
I try swearing at the cloud in Spanish 'hijo de puta'.
That doesn't work either. I am still going to Russia. I wonder what 'Fuck you' is in Russian and if that would work.
I am still racing and fresh from my meal so I do douse the kite. The blast reacher is still on deck so I unclip the twin sail, bungee it down, set up the blast reacher and hoist it. I am super tired after doing this. It is rocky, windy and wet.
Within minutes the wind changes and I now have to pole the blast reacher to keep it full to be able to steer to the islands!!!
15 minutes later, I need to gybe the main.
Holy crap. I am starting to hate that stupid black cloud.
And all I am seeing right now is black on black. The sea is black, the cloud is black. And it definitely is very breezy.
The sea is confused. The boat is surfing a little bit with the blast reacher up as from time to time we get lucky and pick up a wave. For about 45 minutes, clear skies and I can see the water. Some stars appear. I find myself thinking that finally, the nightmare is over.
Changing conditions are a real nightmare for the single handed sailors because you can't go to sleep if you have to keep changing your sails because the conditions change. It is actually easier to have the early day conditions: heavy wind but stable so you set your boat up and you go to sleep than what I am finding. The breeze is still up and I am now making very good progress toward the islands.
All these sail changes have left me absolutely exhausted. I go down below, and sleep on the floor since I am wet from the drizzle and I don't want to make my bunk all wet. I use the spinnaker as my pillow. It's wet too anyway.
I don't set the timer as I know that changes in boat trim, wind speed, waves, etc... will wake me up and somehow I anticipate that. I was right. Within minutes of closing my eyes and as I start imagining long white sandy beaches, the main gybes.
'Darn, Nick (Nick is the name of the NKE autopilot), you are a professional gyber)'. I walk up to see that the wind has shifted again quite drastically. Technically I need to pole out the blast reacher on the other side to gybe the sail. I am tired though so I consider dropping it instead.
I cut that apple in half. I walk forward, remove the pole, head the boat up a bit and let the blast reacher fly.
I go back down below and get set up for more sleep.
Minutes later, the main is flogging and the sheet from the blast reacher is whipping the cabin top preventing me from sleeping.
I understand that it will be hard to sleep. When I go back on deck, the black cloud of Death has returned.
I decide to stay up and steer to it. I try wing on wing without a pole which is really tricky with the blast reacher. I don't even want to think about walking forward and putting the pole back up, so whenever I have to gybe, I then head up as if I was flying an asymmetrical kite to keep the blast reacher full. No messing around anymore. But the cloud cannot declare victory, I will change course as often as required, and gybe that main and headsail as often as required in order to continue to make good toward to the islands.
At some point, I stand up in the cockpit and show my fist at the cloud.
'So what is it you have with me you stupid cloud. Is that an Elise special? What do you want. A sacrifice?'
A few minutes later, I find myself talking to the cloud again. 'Are you doing this because I am French? Is that it?'
I swear that I am starting to hallucinate and see birds that end up disappearing into my sails at the light of the masthead nav lights. I am now screaming at the cloud.
'Dude, I really need to sleep now. I think that I am having hallucinations and that probably means that I need to catch up on sleep. You want a deal? I won't be putting my spinnaker back up before the morning, so you WILL delay my progress in the race. Would that work for you?'
'Hey shithead, drop that will you? It was fun for a minute but now this is getting old'
'OK, if you don't stop this in one minute motherfucker, I am calling the cops on you.'
'You know Zephyr? It's the God of wind. He and I are real close friends. You know, I can just ask Him to blow your head off.'
No change. I find myself hand steering all night, chased by a series of black clouds, all with a different set of wind configuration. In the morning I am super frustrated. I feel that I have waged a war all night with an army of clouds and that I have made no meaningful progress toward my goal and that I must have dropped further back in the ranking. I don't even bother to check my position or SMS position reports.
I am so angry at the cloud that I can't even imagine sleeping now. All I want to do is hoist the kite again and get back to racing. I force myself to sleep for a couple of hours and then I call Nathan to vent my frustration.
To my surprise, he greets me with 'congrats!! I just SMS'ed you the position report but you have just passed Libra and you have picked up another place in the overall standing!'
I couldn't believe my ears. I share the story of my night telling him that I spent the night gybing and changing sails while seemingly going nowhere made good (but going real fast to lots of other cool places) and that it was the most frustrating night in my entire sailing career - it looks like I kept the boat mostly pointing at the islands! Yay!! That made my day...
I look up at the cloudy sky and I say with a smile.
'Elise 1. Black Cloud 0'
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