I wanted to thank the LongPac shore team though - and I felt really bad about them after I had turned around. Serge and Nathan have put some much time into prepping the boat for this race that I seemed to be betraying them by turning around so early. I could not have done this race without them, and it makes me reiterate the importance of a great shore crew whenever you do offshore sailing.
I decided to have the #3 up for the start. Wind was about 10 to 15 knots and the #1 could probably have been up, however it it a pain to tack it, particularly single-handed when there is no one to help it around at the bow, it gets caught in a million things so I figured that for the relatively short tacks up to Point Bonita a smaller sail would be OK.
I sailed alongside Taz! for the most part who had a genoa up and I could keep up. I tacked my way to Point Bonita staying in the ebb. Nick was working OK (Nick is the primary race autopilot). I was driving though for most of the time. I took down the #3 and put up the #1 (genoa) as the wind kept dropping as the evening approached.
The fog settled in and visibility was less than half a mile. I could hear ship everywhere and I turned on the AIS for it to be my lookout since my eyes were useless. VTS (Vessel Traffic) broadcast a traffic situation every half hour at 15 and 45min past the hour. I kept listening to this. My AIS system kept going off all the time, as I was in heavy fog with no maneuvrability and in the middle of the friggin' shipping lane. So I was on the radio to ships the whole night. And when I wasn't on the radio I was trying to keep the boat going and stay clear of the Northern Farallon islands so that they didn't become a problem for Elise.
Some ships passed a few feet away from my stern (while I was on the radio and they were telling me that they could see me and were steering clear of me...), pretty scary!!! Fog, no wind and ships all around me is my sailing nightmare scenario!!
By morning, things were better. Still foggy and the wind was very light. Nick was still dead - I rigged 'Ray' and tried to figure out if it could steer effectively. It couldn't as the wind was too finicky. I hadn't slept since departure and I decided to heave-to for a couple of hours with AIS on 'nuclear' (as the real 'Nick' recommended) - since the wind was very very light in the early hours of the morning, I figured I wasn't losing too much ground by heaving-to. I was just out of the shipping channel so it felt OK to go to sleep. I hove-to and went below.
I woke up to some shipping alarm for what seemed to be another LongPac competitor (I went up on deck and could see the boat). It was foggy still, but lifting up and visibility was much improved.
Ray drove for a little bit since the wind was light enough which allowed me to get a good meal prepared, to clean things up inside the cabin (things had moved a little bit) and do a bit of toiletry. I came back up on deck and the wind picked up again. Ray couldn't keep up and was starting to break things. I couldn't repair as it would involve some fiberglass job and the deck was too wet for that. So I just took the helm.
the headsail took quite a beating in the lack of wind, flapping around, catching the radar reflector that was up in the rig. It might be its last short-handed trip!
Bungee worked for a few hours and I tried to take another couple of sleep. However all I could manage was a half hour. I stayed below as I could, but once the AIS system went off which woke me up and the conditions kept changing (the wind dropped for half an hour forcing me up on deck to take the reefs out and switched to the genoa (it was a race after all!!) - I could sense the change from below, the heel angle changed quite dramatically and the sound of water alongside the hull was quite different. So I was resting below under the bungee watch but I wasn't unable to really sleep.
The wind kept picking up so I took a reef in the main. It kept climbing and I took a second reef in the main. It was by then between 25 to 30 knots and I was beating up on my way to the mark, doing almost due west (I was heading North of west to account for leeway). While I was steering, things were OK., It just required some active mainsail trim in the gusts. The seas were not any worse than what I had seen on the roughest lightship races and it was just the usual roller-coaster with Elise slamming down some steep waves and me hurting my butt (the boat woudl fall faster than I would...) - thank God for Serge's cushions!!
I was thinking of taking the #3 down and put up the storm jib (which is a #4, so a smaller sail) to keep the boat flater and competitive. I knew that I would have no autopilot for the night (wind was too strong for bungee) and looking at the boat speed (5.8 knots upwind!!!) - taking a nap hove-to sounded just unbearably expensive for this race...Maybe turning around was one way for me to express my disapointment, maybe this is what I need to do better next time: just accept that things will break and sail the boat as best as I can given the circumstances. I was also worried that it would just take me forever to get to the mark and back as downwind I would have no autopilot either and would need to heave-to or keep driving the boat...this is when a lot of the questions of whether I could keep myself safe while racing occurred. I could keep myself safe while sailing, but if I wasn't going to be competitive, should I continue?
All in all, I decided to turn around under very tired state of mind, which may have been the wrong decision. I won't know.
As soon as I turned around (in 25-30 knots), I could put the spinnaker up (I set everything up at the bow while the boat was going upwind as for a short period of time the bungee was doing a fine job) - and since all the lines were led back to the cockpit, I could hoist it and trim it without the need for an autopilot. Elise jumped forward and started to surf big time in the waves. The wind stayed strong all night and I drove her all night under spinnaker - we broached once as a wave kicked Elise's butt the wrong way, but easy recovery and we were gone again. It was a beautiful starry night and I was doing my favorite thing on Elise: surfing in 25 to 30 knots of wind, in big waves. The boat was doing great and really eager to move forward.
The wind dropped in the very early hours of the morning about half way between the Farallones and the lightship - I decided that I wouldn't put the engine on. I had turned around because I couldn't manage my sleep properly and after a night of sheer fun, I started to wonder if that had been the right solution since it wasn't like I was in trouble or anything like that. Maybe it will serve for future choices...maybe I didn't push myself enough? in any case, I had turned around but I would sail the boat the whole way. So I bubbled around for a bit. I tidied up the spinnaker lines and packed 'reverse France'. I had a good breakfast. It was impossible to get some sleep so close to the shipping channel but I had trouble keeping my eyes open. I drank of the Red Bulls to help with that.
A light breeze picked up and I sailed her home. I was too tired to hoist the spinnaker (I would fall asleep for a few seconds at a time which would be impossible with that sail up) so I sailed back under main + jib. No reef in the main of course by then.
I called Nathan and AJ - feeling very tired and sad. Nathan told me that pretty much everyone but one boat in my division had turned around. Wow - I had no idea. What a weird race this year. Nathan welcome me at the dock and helped put the minimum away. He drove me home as I was in no state to drive. I could barely dock the boat correctly even though the wind was very light.
Anyway, this is the story of my LongPac. I will remember that race and I have work items and lessons that I will carry with me:
- Figure out a way to get more power (either a third battery to charge up during the day, or a wind-based system) for single-handed so the autopilot can be run at night - it is really really hard to stay up all night, even if you get enough sleep during the day. It is also better to sleep whenever the wind is light if you can. You are less competitive with the autopilot but if the wind is light, your loss isn't as great as if you could be doing 6 knots and you're doing only 3.
- Figure out better ways to backup 'Nick' - maybe install a small windvane system that doesn't require drilling holes and that could be removed when not needed? It is tricky downwind because it causes round down as it uses the apparent wind as its main input (and that wind goes forward when you accelerate down a wave)...in any case, more research is required there.
- Find a way to make Nick more reliable: protecting its wiring some more would be good. It looks like one of the wires may have been pulled out by the gear that was in the port quarterberth
- Tend to the sailor as well as the boat: bank on sleep and i you need 6 hours to operate well and sustainably and the conditions allow you to get that sleep, take it. I didn't do that because it just felt wrong to park the boat in a race. I should have. I really need to work on my sleep management.
note from Nat: Eric Tabarly said that boats had to be fast, sea-worthy and beautiful. 'Multihulls are not beautiful and I regret that'.
