News
July 23, 2019, 1130
Transpac 2019 is in the books! The Flyingfiche II crossed the finish line just after 8 p.m. local time Sunday. We placed fourth of 11 in our very competitive division, and 12th of 84 finishers overall.
This is the second Transpac that we've completed on this boat, and everyone has been asking the obvious question: How did 2019 compare to 2017?
The conditions in 2017 were much milder, and from what I understand, this year's conditions were much more typical—more wind, bigger waves, tougher squalls. The shift in degree of conditions results in a change in the kind of sailing on these boats. When the wind and waves lined up—like when we were coming down Molokai Channel, especially—we weren't sailing in the way we do in the coastal waters of Southern California. It was a surfing session on a 50-foot board that has a spinnaker attached to help drop in. We were able to get into this mode much more often this year, and it enabled us to finish the race faster by an entire day. The difference in top speeds was huge—17.5 knots last time compared to 24.5 this year. The Santa Cruz 50 was designed for this race, and that was much more apparent to me this year.
There are so many people to thank for making this happen: the race committee, which does a great job managing what has to be one of the largest playing fields in all of sports; the escort boats who guide the finishers into the marina; the welcoming committee here in Honolulu. More personally, on behalf of the entire crew, I need to thank Bob for all the work he did getting the boat and crew ready. And of course, thanks to the owner of the Flyingfiche II, Chris Wacker, and our sponsor, Laserfiche, for making all of this possible in the first place.
July 21, 2019, 12:30
It's hard to believe it, but our race is coming to an end. It's often said that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, but this feels like the opposite. With just a few more steps of the kind we've taken every minute of every day since a week ago Friday, we'll have completed our journey of a thousand miles. [Attn RC: that's figurative - we still want handicap time based on actual course distance!] We've sent in our 100 mile notification, and our finish line ETA is in about 12 hours. The routine today is the same as always, and yet it's different. We aren't planning on spending another night on the boat, instead we're thinking about the friends and family who will be greeting us when we arrive.
July 20, 2019, 1530
Another night of tough sailing. When the sun set, the moon wasn't up yet and there was a thick cloud layer blocking out the stars. It was totally dark and the squalls were starting to unload. Richard and Robert helmed us through gusts up to 30 knots - it was a tough watch. That's one reason Richard counts down the nights of the race rather than the days. If all goes well, we have one last night. And lest you think the fact that there is a countdown means that we aren't enjoying it, the question has already been asked: Do you want to do this race again in 2 years?
I believe that Yellow Brick tracking has live data for boats within 200nm of finish. We expect to reach that overnight tonight, so you should be able to follow us live all day Sunday.
We continue to eat really well. I may have forgotten to mention the empenadas, the spinach/chicken/quinoa casserole, and other meals. They are definitely appreciated and fuel us. On some days though, dinner is a quick stop between being on deck and trying to grab some sleep, and doesn't get the attention it deserves. Our staff doesn't include a dedicated food blogger, unfortunately. A shout-out in advance for the enchiladas that are thawing right now!
Reader Mail - Send in your questions for a chance to be featured in an upcoming blog entry!
Diane from Florida writes, "Do you see much of the full moon or is it hidden with clouds?"
Thanks for your question, Diane! The short answer is: it varies. The Transpac race is usually scheduled to coincide with the full moon, so that the nights are brighter. There's a lot of cloud cover down here and it can be thick enough to totally block the moon. I think we've seen the moon and stars for at least part of every night, though. When the stars are visible through a break in the clouds, they are very bright.
PS - Say "hi" to dad for me!
In Memorium
Dedicated readers of this blog will be familiar with our beanbag chairs. It saddens me to report that around 4:30 pm PDT Friday, Tan Beanbag fell off the port rail. A witness to the event described it as "Tan Beanbag slipping betwixt the lifelines and into Poseidon's waiting grasp." Crew members recalled fondly the times they had sat on Tan Beanbag while trimming the spinnaker or the main. Dan, a lifelong friend, said that Tan Beanbag had been an important part of several successful Newport-Ensenada campaigns aboard Problem Child. The cause of death is unknown, but Robert observed that according to his prop 65 label, Tan Beanbag contained chemicals known to the State of California to cause cancer. Tan Beanbag is survived by Royal Blue Beanbag. The family kindly requests that in lieu of flowers, you purchase mai tais for the crew.
July 19, 1530
We've made our jibe and are heading directly toward Hawaii. Given that the distance yet to cover—about 600 nm—is longer than most boat trips, it seems premature to call this the home stretch. Everything is relative, I guess.
Nighttime conditions continue to be challenging. It was blowing a steady 25 when we executed our jibe. It was also 2 a.m. and the seas were rolling. Come to think of it, they weren’t good conditions to accomplish anything, other than coming back to the cockpit soaked. I nailed that!
It has really warmed up. The off-shift crew is doing their best to stay cool, and welcoming suggestions.
Recent observations have inspired me to write a screenplay:
The Trimmer
SCENE: Cockpit of a boat sailing in the Transpac race. GRINDER sits in front of a winch, handle at the ready. TRIMMER sits across the cockpit in a beanbag chair, holding the spinnaker sheet that is wound around the winch.
As action begins, the leading edge of the spinnaker curls over.
TRIMMER: Grind, grind, grind!
GRINDER does nothing. Before the TRIMMER speaks again, the curls flips back.
TRIMMER: OK!
END SCENE
FIN
We're now performing this play dozens of times a day around the clock with a rotating cast. No two shows are quite the same!
Photos: the crew modeling the latest sun-avoidance gear.
July 19, 2019, 0900
First of all, Richard has announced that we are past the halfway mark! uch thanks to Rochelle for the thoughtful care package. We've gotten into a few small rain showers, so the decks are rinsed, and the midday crew appreciated the cooling effects. The first of them came last night, during some hard sailing. There was a solid cloud cover horizon to horizon. The moon was full, but it lit the whole sky evenly—everywhere you looked, it was nothing but the same mottled gray, like the inside of a sensory deprivation tank. Sailing was strictly by instruments. There was a bit of clearing after the first shower, and a moonbow—or lunar rainbow—appeared off the starboard side, under the Big Dipper. Very cool.
We saw a fishing boat pass a few miles to our north this morning. It's the first boat we've seen since we passed a non-racer also heading to Hawaii about two days ago. We expect to see some of the competition soon as we begin to converge.
About the beanbag chair: Bob insists he isn't anti-beanbag; he is anti-weight. And once you say yes to a beanbag chair, what's next? It's a fair point. A light boat is a fast boat.
We're talking about gybing soon! It's been pretty quiet on the foredeck since our last sail change. Was that three days ago? We did send Chris V. aloft for a repair this afternoon, so that's keeping us in ready shape.
Photo 1: A flying fish landed in the cockpit overnight. We thought about keeping it as a mascot, but inspection revealed that it smelled like a fish.
Photo 2: "Kenny Bobby" with the official motto of Kenny Bobby Racing: "Fast is Fun!" (tm). The glow-in-the-dark tape means we can read it at night, too.
July 17, 2019, 1330
It's amazing how quickly you acclimate to conditions. After sailing a few hours in 20-plus knots of wind with boat speeds regularly in the high teens and above, anything less feels like we're standing still.
We really kept the boat charging over the last 24 hours, and it was great to see that the 278 miles that we covered led the division.
Every driver has hit at least 20 or 21 knots of boat speed. When I cracked 24 knots surfing down a wave in a 25-knot gust this morning, I thought I was the inaugural member of the 24 knot club, but it turns out the other watch had more than one guy already break through during the night—and they hadn't even bragged about it! It's easy to drive fast in strong wind, so now that the wind is down a bit, it will be a real test of our abilities.
The water has warmed up significantly since our brisk showers off the stern yesterday. We're getting close to conditions where we'll see some squalls, so that will add an interesting dimension to the race.
July 16, 2019, 1700
The cockpit of the Santa Cruz 50 seems not to have been designed with comfort in mind. We have two permanent cushions at the wheel, port and starboard. Those are useful for upwind sailing where you can steer from the rail, but for spinnakers everyone stands square at the wheel. There are of course standard boat cushions, and we have a few of those. They help some. Dan brought two beanbag chairs on board. Bob initially groused about the space they take up, and the weight—seriously, the weight of a beanbag chair. We deployed them to the high rail once we put the first spinnaker up, and they make trimming the kite way more comfortable. Nobody has complained about the beanbag chair while sitting in it — not even Bob!
July 15, 2019, 1530
The weather has been improving greatly each day. Sunday evening's sunset was beautiful, and we began to see the "cloud streets" that Stan Honey told us about. We were sailing across them, and there was definitely more wind as we crossed each edge. The full moon was out, and since the seas were relatively flat you could see the shadows the clouds cast on the water, to understand how wide and far apart they are. Monday has brought us clear blue skies, with just a few clouds around the horizon. Wind was light (of course that is relative) and shifty this morning, but we've been on a tear since noon. Someone is coming up fast behind us; we think it's one of the multi-hulls making up our 24 hour head start.
July 14, 2019
The forecast said that Friday would provide strong starting conditions, and it delivered. The wind filled in just before the start and it hasn't gone away. We hit the west end of Catalina in about three hours and made enough distance from shore so that the wind didn't shut off with the sunset. The first night had very steady 21-22 knot breezes in which we were tight-reaching with No. 3 jib and reefed main. Driving the boat was very easy and we were making 13 knots. The moon was out for a while but we went under a thick cloud. … In the dark it seemed like we were moving even faster—it felt like driving a truck down the highway.
Sailing was easy but the seas were confused and lumpy, and the boat was on its side, so gear was wet, stomachs were sour but spirits were high.
Bob cooked up tacos—hot food never tasted so good.
Saturday had the sun only peek out a few times, otherwise it was gray horizon to horizon. We switched to the jib top and the ride got a little more comfortable. We chased a mast light all night, and at sunup it looked like we made up some good ground. We put up our first spinnaker at the 2 a.m. watch change; the seas flattened out and the ride became much more comfortable.
Sunday started cold and mostly cloudy, but it turned into the first nice day of the race. The sun was often behind some high puffy clouds, but it lit up the sky and warmed the air. The layers came off and we sailed in shorts and T-shirts. We expect a lot more of this in the days to come. We were able to open up the hatches and dry out the boat and our gear. The rest of the sails are now up on the rail, which opens up more living space. In addition to a big cleanup, we replaced a reef line that had given way.
Ribs are on the menu for tonight.