N 48 deg 12', W 123 deg 55'-- Race 9, Day 25

just a quick update, as the keyoard is acting up. Again.

We've finished!

Eventful last it, as we hit the iggeqst winds of the crossing -- 83 knots
at one point, though the iggest I helmed in was low 70's. We also had
another tethered MO, again quickly recovered with no real danger. The last
stretch was frustrating, as the wind really died, but we finally made it.
Fifth place finish, a little slip at the end, but pretty good for the
smallest crew in the fleet.

More detail when I have a working keyboard. Right now, just looking forward
to Seattle, seeing friends and family, and not being cold or wet for a
while.

46 23, 132 27 -- Race 9, Day 24

I was on the helm a few nights ago as we cracked the 1000 nm mark. I had
this whole post composed in my head about how it the home stretch, about
how 1000 miles is still a long way but in the context of a 5700 mile race,
not to mention nearly 20,000 miles of total sailing I'm doing in this trip
it's not much, about how I could almost taste that beer waiting for me at
the finish.

That feels like an eternity ago.

We're generally making good progress, but conditions remain tough. I keep
going on about the cold, but that really has been the most testing aspect
of this whole experience for me. We had another breakage yesterday, which
slowed us down for a while. The shackle at the top of the running backstay
failed, and it was several hours worth of work to get it replaced,
including two guys going up the mast and dropping all sails for a while. I
was on mother duty at the time, so I missed most of the action, just
keeping dinner and hot drinks going as semi-frozen people would come down
from time to time. The one moment that sticks out for me is hearing Matt
say at one point, "There is every chance this mast is going to come down!"
Fortunately, it never came to that, and by the time I came on watch at 2am,
we were ready to shake out to full main.

We have one more front forecast to come through. It was expected to be
pretty strong, but the forecast has moderated, and now it looks like it
might just give us continued good speed to the finish, likely some time
tomorrow night. Not going to count any chickens just yet though.

336 nm to go.

N 43 deg 25', W 150 deg 33' -- Race 9, Day 21

There wasn't a lot to report for a few days there, thus the lack of posts.
But then, just as I was thinking the Pacific was going to wrap up with a
long, tough, but fairly monotonous slog -- BANG!

It took all of two seconds to realise that the spinnaker halyard had
snapped. Matt later said it was a 50 knot gust, just more than the line
could handle. The Code 3 was streaming out in front of the boat, held only
at the two lower corners. It floated there for a few moments, then fell
into the sea to start dragging down the port side.

Matt, as I've said before, is cool in these situations. "No worries guys.
Tom, grind in on the active sheet. Mark, three wraps on that winch and tail
in the drop sheet. Kat, get some more bodies on deck. Sean, up to the bow,
we're going to have to bring the kite aboard from the tack end." A few
minutes later, I had locked off my line and joined Sean at the bow, where I
noticed the tack line sheath had gone. Sean and I tried to get the sail in,
but there was far too much tension from this huge bag of canvas being
dragged through the water at 10 knots.

We moved further aft and joined the rest of the crew, off watch having made
it on deck now, working to haul the sail in along the length of the boat.
We had some success, but one big bag of sail full of water was just too
much for us to lift. We were working at it when there was another bang, and
we soon realised the tack line had gone.

We were now dragging the sail by the two sheets. Alex said to me that he
would just cut the thing free, and I agreed, but Matt was determined to
save it. He came up with an approach where we would grind in on a sheet,
tie another line as far down the sail as we could, grind in on that, and
repeat. Fine in theory, but....

But nothing. It worked. It took maybe 45 minutes, and there were some big
tears that will take some fixing, but we recovered it. Despite it all being
a mess, it was also a great moment, with the whole team working well
together and salvaging a situation I thought was unsalvageable. It's still
going to take a lot of work to repair the sail, but that's probably one for
land. This leaves us with only the lightweight spinnaker, and there's
nothing in the forecast that looks like we'll be able to fly that. We're at
a bit of a disadvantage now compared to other boats, and we'll have to
catch some real breaks to podium, but we should still make Seattle in good
time.

On a personal note, as far as I know, my repairs held. They certainly
didn't start the problem. I'll check in port whether they survived being
dragged through the water.

It's been relatively easy sailing the past 24 hours, though the nights have
been really, really cold. We have another low expected through tonight,
which should bring with it some higher (but very manageable) winds, and
that should -- SHOULD -- be the last of the heavy weather.

1155 nm to go.

N 41 deg 27', W 166 deg 38' -- Race 9, Day 18

Cold, though not as cold as it was at its worst, but now with added grey
and drizzle. It's clear now to me why the set that musical in the South
Pacific rather than the North Pacific.

***************************************

I read this story a while back, an excerpt from a memoir of a Jewish kid
growing up in New York. One day he went to his grandfather, excited because
Babe Ruth had hit sixty home runs. His grandfather pondered, then asked,
"This thing that Ruth did, is it good for the Jews?"

I'm like that right now about getting to Seattle. If something gets us
there faster, great; if not, I'm indifferent. For example, one of the
overall leaders, I think Garmin, lost their bowsprit. This means they can't
fly a spinnaker, at least not well, so they'll go slower, and it helps us
place better. But this thing that Garmin did, does it get us to Seattle
faster? No? Meh.

On the other hand, usually race position and getting there faster go hand
in hand. Yesterday, we saw some old repairs in our Code 3 weren't holding.
(We inherited this sail after we destroyed our in the kite wrap incident,
so for once, it's not our old repairs that are going.) I spent about five
hour during the night doing repairs, first a bit after our 6pm-10pm watch
ended, then pretty much the whole of the 2am-6am watch. The first part, I
worked with Linda to cut and apply some new adhesive patches; the second
part, I sat on the floor and sewed so they would stay on. We were able to
fly it today, the patches held, and we made good speed. We've pretty much
given up on fixing the Code 2 (the repair might be possible, but the
conditions haven't been conducive to using the sewing machine, nor are
there enough people on board who know how to use ie), so it's important
that we have the Code 3 as an option, and a few hour sewing is a small
price to pay.

**************************************

I continue to be surprised by the amount of breakage and fixing of things.
Just today, the preventer snapped. We fixed it. Reef 2 was in bad shape. We
fixed it. Just lots of wear and tear.

***************************************

I don't want to jinx anything, but we're looking on track for arrival in
the early part of the arrival window. No guarantees, as a lot can happen,
but the slowish start has given way to sustained good speed, and there's
nothing in the forecast that suggests that's going to change. Here's
hoping!

1816 nm to go.

N 41 deg 11', W 173 deg 58' -- Race 9, Day 17

I think I gave an excessively negative impression of morale on board in my
last post. Don't get me wrong, people are a bit on edge, and all those
things I mentioned did happen. And that's without even getting into the
really nitpicky stuff, like who ate more than their share of chocolate or
who did a mediocre job of cleaning the heads.

But the overall atmosphere is pretty good. For example, Justin just had a
laugh about the fact that he never thought he'd be kneading bread while
people wooled a kite around him. Han cracked a joke about how much we're
paying to do this work, and everyone had a laugh. More broadly, we have a
crew where most people get on with most other people and respect what they
bring to the table and the effort they put in most of the time. It's
actually impressive things don't get worse under these conditions. Again,
it's a huge improvement over the last leg. I'm not really sure how to
compare to Leg 4. That was also a really good crew, and people got along
well, I think comparable to now. But I was the new guy on board at that
point. I had little to compare to, and I was really busy just figuring my
own stuff out, so my perspective is completely different.

I do, however, stand by what I said about he cold. That was thoroughly
unpleasant. We had snow. We had rain. We had sleet and hail. These may not
stop the US Postal Service messengers from the swift completion of their
appointed rounds, but they are a bitch to sail in. Fortunately, it broke
slightly last night, and we had a decent morning of sailing today.* We
had the lightweight spinnaker, aka Code 1 up, the sun was out, no water was
coming over the deck, and we were consistently making 10-13 knots. It was
nice while it lasted, but the cold front is coming. And while the forecast
has moderated a bit, it still looks to be a lively one.

*By decent, I mean that I was wearing more clothing that I ever thought
possible, but it was tolerable instead of painful. Talk about defining
deviancy downward.

I don't think I've mentioned race position in a while, which is strange,
because we're doing pretty well. The leader, Derry, has pulled away a bit.
But we're in a group of three boats trading off the next three positions
and pulling away from the fifth and further back boats. We have a real
chance at a podium. This isn't lost on us, but there's more focus on just
getting there.

2113 nm to go

N 38 deg 54', W 177 deg 42' -- Race 9, Day 16

I'm not going to sugarcoat it, conditions are pretty miserable these days.
Everyone is cold, wet, and tired, and tempers are fraying a bit. Sean drops
the keyboard and rants at no one in particular that the ziploc bag we store
it in should have been zipped, as should all ziplocs. Neil complains that
he's gettig shouted at in stereo, Kat bizarrely thinks she's been called a
stereo, gets really offended, and calls him a pig. Since my snap over food
a week ago, I've saved my outbursts for inanimate objects. I have trouble
getting my life jacket on or my dry suit off, they get sworn at. Or every
time I get dripped on by this goddamn boat.... Some people are more stoic.
Doug is really good, but even he lost his patience a bit with the oven when
it wouldn't stay on.

I remember saying back in the heat of the Solomon Sea that the cold leg
would be better, because you could always put more clothes on. I didn't
think that I just might not have them. We might have to go to shorter
rotations on deck, but it's tough with the numbers we have. This is
just another challenge of having the smallest crew in the fleet, and one I
hadn't really anticipated.

There's some fairly big weather coming, talk of 50 knots sustained with
gusts of 70-80. This is a lot, but it should be from a favorable direction
and fully manageable with conservative sails. What really concerns me is
that it's a cold front and the thought that things will get colder.

At least we're making good time. We've crossed the International Date Line.
Opportunity there for a lot of obvious jokes about time travel, but I'm
going to pass. All that really matter is what gets us to Seattle.

It is nice to finally be starting that longitude with a W though.

2316 nm to go.

N 38 deg 27', E 175 deg 33' -- Race 9, Day 15

It's cold. The actual temperature may not be that bad -- not warm, but
safely above freezing -- but the wind is pretty fierce, and everything is
wet. I'm wearing waterproof socks inside a drysuit inside top-of-the-line
sailing boots, and my feet are still wet. I've been using some heavy rubber
helming gloves with a nice wool (I think) liner, but the liner is wet, and
nothing will make it dry. I have several drips onto my bunk, so my sleeping
bag is wet. Fortunately, it's waterproof, and so far the inside is OK, but
it still gets cold at night. We've started rotations with thirty minutes
out of every ninety below decks to warm up, which was absolutely critical
for night watch and still helpful during the day. Seattle remains a long
way north, and I'm actually worried about my ability to deal with the cold.
Not that there's much option.

We're about the latitude of SF now. It occurs to me that in prior years,
this is as far north as they would have gone, maybe a bit further if they
were following a great circle route.

At least we're making good time, with winds averaging about 25 knots (gusts
regularly in the high 30's and sometimes higher) giving us 250 mile days
for now. There's another low forecast through in a couple of days, and it's
likely to be a big one, but we should be relatively well positioned for it.
Relatively.

2641 nm to go.

******************************************

Sarah Young was buried at sea yesterday. We held a short memorial service
on board. Sean said a few words, and I understand he send something out as
a crew diary as well. It feels odd to say this, since I don't actually know
any of these people, but my thoughts are with her family, her friends, and
her team on Ichorcoal.

N 37 deg 18', E 169 deg 10' -- Race 9, Day 14

If you're following the wider reporting on the race, you'll know this
already. But if not, there has been another death. Sarah Young, from
Ichorcoal, was swept overboard by a wave. By the time they got her back on
board, they were unable to revive her.

I didn't know her myself, but several people here did. Sean, who joined us
from Ichorcoal a few months ago, was close to her. As you would expect,
he's taking it particularly hard, but everyone is definitely shaken.

She wasn't tethered at the time. I mention this only because it comes so
soon after our tethered MOB and so I can assure you that I am really,
really careful about keeping clipped on. I'm doing everything I can to
keep safe, and I'll be home soon.

2943 nm to go.