Clipper fundraising... finally!

Wow. Long time since my last blog post. Clearly not as much time on my hands these days (and/or not as much to write about).

I'm posting today because I have finally(!) done the accounting and made the donation to Give Directly. I've been employed for just over a  year now, I've managed to put money toward an engagement ring and a wedding (though not yet a honeymoon), I've rebuilt a bit of my savings.... it's time to make good on my promise.

So thank you to everyone who donated. Between your donations and my match, we pulled together £750. I ended up at their US site and since I have some USD cash not doing much, I rounded up to $1000 and donated there. I then found their UK site, which would have been far more tax smart, but it was too late. At least, too late for this donation. Wait all this time, then I'm in such a rush that I donate at 50% efficiency! Next time though....

Anyway, than you for you support, both of me through the trip and of this good cause.

Clipper: One year on

One year ago today, I started racing with Clipper Telemed, leaving Albany on the way to Sydney. Despite four week of training where I had generally felt pretty good about my skills, I found out pretty quickly I wasn't really prepared. Then again, I think ocean racing is one of those things that you can't really prepare for, not fully; the only way to understand what it requires of you is to do it.

I thought that I was buying myself a relatively easy start, it being summertime in Australia and our route taking us around the south side of the continent rather than across any oceans. I was wrong. We were far enough from land to really get a taste of the Southern Ocean (though admittedly not at its most epic) and some unusual weather patterns had us beating upwind for the first week or so of what was supposed to be a nice downwind run. But the worst part was that I just didn't feel competent for that first bit. I had considered myself to be good in training, among the best of the previously inexperienced sailors at least. But I quickly realised how far ahead people were who had started the race in London, or even those who had just joined in Cape Town. Part of my was inspired by the thought that I would get to that point myself over the coming months -- particularly by Tony, whom I'd gotten to know and consider a peer during training but who now bossed the pit like he'd been doing it his whole life -- but mostly I was annoyed by how far behind I was.
Fortunately, I did develop all those skills. I never loved it at the bow, but I became a solid member of the team up there, even leading a few sail changes (with a bit of coaching from Han). I spent a lot of time at the mast and got more comfortable with my feet off the deck and the boat heeled way over than I ever thought I'd be. I also became a reliable hand on the helm. never as efficient as Alex or Matt but one of the few willing and able to put in full shifts (and then some) in any conditions.

I also wasn't really prepared for the living conditions. As I expected going in, the people were really good overall; something like this inherently selects for better-than-average people, interesting people, fun people, people with a sense of adventure. That said, there is still a lot of variation around that better-than-average average, and there were a few truly painful individuals and no way to escape them. The whole experience -- the stress, the close-quarters, the isolation -- intensified both sides. Over my five months on the boat, I formed some connections that would take years in normal circumstances. I also came very close to beating the hell out of a few people.

By the time I got to Seattle, I was very much ready to be done. I'm not sure how much it was the gruelling Pacific crossing specifically and how much it was just the knowledge that it was my finish line, but I felt like I'd given all I had to give. It was really tough to leave the guys (and not made any easier by they fact they immediately went on to podium in the next three races... bastards!), but I wasn't even a little bit tempted to extend. Since finishing, I've had a lot of people ask me, "Would you do it again?" In one sense, do I see myself doing it again in the future, maybe some other legs, probably not. I do want to keep sailing, but I think my ocean crossing days are over. I want to cruise in the sunshine with a G&T in my hand. Or maybe another Sydney-Hobart, or the Fastnet or something. But in another sense, if I had it do over again, I'd absolutely make the same decision. It was an incredible experience, and I don't regret it for a second.

I'd like to close with three stories that I didn't think were appropriate for the blog at the time but that I think are safe to tell now:

• First, toward the end of the Pacific crossing I mentioned that we had another tethered MOB. I didn't provide any detail, partly because the keyboard was acting up and partly because his mother read the blog and he didn't want her to worry. But he told her when we were in Seattle, so I figure I can share. We had just come through the biggest winds of the race. (I had said 83 knots in the blog post, but Jason later showed me a picture of the instruments reading 144! It probably wasn't quite that high, as the instruments get a bit flukey at that level, but it's still nuts.) Ryan and Justin were up at the bow. I think they were prepping the Yankee 3 to hoist, as we'd been down to stay sail through the big wind overnight. A big swell came in from from starboard, maybe 5-6m high, the boat tilted way over, bounced a bit, and over went Ryan. He was holding onto the guard rail at the time and did a full somersault on they way before losing his grip at the end. There was an exception level of "Oh shit!" to this, because Ryan had reputation for not clipping on. Fortunately, this time, he had. I was on the winches at the time and clipped on the inboard jackstay. I barely had time to transfer my clip outboard and start up to help, and he was in. The boat was crashing through the swells enough that the deck was getting down nearly to water level. Ryan was able to get a hold on the preventer and pull himself back up with some help from Justin. His first question was whether anyone had gotten a picture. He had wrenched his shoulder a bit and started to feel that as the adrenalin wore off, but came through it OK.
• Second, at the end of Race 8 to Qingdao, I mentioned that the cold had nearly broken me. I think "nearly broken" doesn't quite cover it. It wasn't helped by the fact that I was sick. I ended up taking off two half-watches at the urging of a few crewmates. It wasn't something I wanted to do, as we were short-handed as it was, but I think it was right. But there were times as I lay there in bed, just desperately trying to get warm after a bitterly cold watch on deck, that I really considered quitting. Honestly, it was the thought of explaining this to my friends and family that kept me from doing it, even though I know you all would have been understanding and supporting. So while I didn't have this conversation with you at the time, know that you helped me through the toughest part of the experience.
• Third, going back almost to the beginning, I mentioned in this post being knocked over by a wave, taking a winch in the ribs, and being reminded how important it was to keep tethered in. What I didn't mention at the time was that I was not actually tethered in. We had just started downwind sailing, which feels a lot more smooth than the upwind sailing we'd been enduring to that point. We weren't heeled over. We weren't getting waves over the side. I was trying to move more freely around the boat, running the preventer back (must have just been setting it up as we bore away). There were conflicting witness reports, whether I was headed for the edge but stopped short or whether I was actually stopped at the edge by the gate (I incline toward the former). I rolled into the cockpit quickly and clipped on. (Talk about closing the barn door after the horse has bolted!) I had a lot of concern from my crewmates, making sure I was OK. Mostly, I was just embarrassed by it all.  This was before Sarah Young had died after being swept overboard. At the time, all I had in mind was that three previous MOBs in the race had been recovered OK, and all I thought was that I had nearly become a giant pain the ass for my team, as they would have had to stop the boat and turn around to get me. A few days later, Barnaby called a watch meeting where called us all out for our performance. It was the first time I appreciated the stress my almost-MOB had caused, even if still didn't really appreciate the actual danger. I realised owed everyone, especially Barno, an apology for putting them in that situation, and i gave it to them.  This is also why I felt I was able to be assuring that I was very careful about clipping in after Sarah's death. I had learned that lesson fairly cheaply, but I had learned it.

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

A few final points.

1) I recently got a chart for my wall showing our track while I was on the boat. I don't think it quite does justice to just how long it felt like we were wandering around the South China Sea, but it's really cool to see the scope of the trip and amazing how many specific moments stand out, key tacks, the detour the bay in the Philippines to sort out the kite wrap, several land sightings, etc. Thanks to Han for coordinating.

Though it does constantly mock me with the fact that track isn't a full circumnavigation....

2) I still haven't finished sorting through my photos, but I am making progress. I have over 3,000, so I want to filter it down before sharing. (I probably have 30 shots of waves crashing over Eric as he helps Nick fix a stanchion.) Sure, I've been back for seven months now, and it's not like I have a job, but... um.... No, I really have no decent explanation.

3) I still need to provide a final accounting of the funds raised for GiveDirectly. I am waiting until I get myself a job before I match them and make the donation, but all donated funds are in their own account. I will confirm in this space when I finalise things.

Thoughts following the recent shootings by and of police

I see a lot of similarities between killing of innocent and/or unarmed black men by police and terrorism by Muslims.

• In both cases, there definitely seems to be a strong disproportionate link. Yes, there are innocent and/or unarmed white people killed by police. Yes, there are non-Muslim terrorists. But neither of those changes the fact that black men are far more likely to be the victim of police shootings and terrorist attacks are far more likely to be committed by Muslims.
• In both cases, the "bad actors" are a tiny minority of the whole. The overwhelming majority of police officers never shot anyone. The overwhelming majority of Muslims would have nothing to do with terrorism.
• Nevertheless, in both cases, there is an awful lot of "I don't approve of this, but...." excuse making.
• In both cases, there is backlash against innocent people wrongly associated with the original injustice, be it anti-Muslim backlash or anti-police backlash. And some people get more concerned about the backlash than the initial injustice. And some people pull out "I don't approve of this backlash, but...."

There are, of course, some significant differences.

• With police shootings, there's SOME element of error. I don't think any cop sets out saying "I'm going to kill an innocent black man today." Terrorist attacks are deliberate.
• I think police should be held to a much higher standard than the average man on the street. It's unfair to expect perfection, but we're a long way from perfection.
• There is a much more established institutional framework around the police than there is around Islam. There are police authorities who can choose who to make police and fire those who aren't living up to standard. There's no real parallel by which "Muslim authorities" could formally expel a "bad Muslim" (like, say a Catholic could be formally excommunicated). And even if they were to do so, it's not like it would really impact their ability to carry out a terrorist attack.

There seem to be some real cultural problems both in law enforcement and in Islam, and while in neither case do you want to tar everyone with the same brush, it seems they could both do with being less defensive and really looking inward to try to fix things. At the same time, a) I'm neither a cop nor a Muslim, so it's pretty easy for me to say they should get their house in order, but b) I have no idea what that would mean in any specific way.

Thoughts on Brexit

NOTE: For those of you who have been reading my sailing blog, first, thank you for following it. But, second, this is not a sailing post. This is more what I started the blog for in the first place, a place to write on miscellaneous, often political topics, to put into print things I've been going over in my head, with little expectation of anyone actually reading. But if you'd like to keep reading, please do. Finally, there are still a few wrap-up sailing posts coming, so stay tuned.

And with that out of the way....

I recently became a UK citizen. As soon as that became official, I registered to vote, so I was able participate in the Brexit referendum. Since registering, I've been working to figure out my opinion. And because a few people asked about my opinion, I decided to sketch out my decision and thinking here... too late to actually influence anyone else, as the vote is now closed and results are coming in.

Short answer: Remain.

Slightly longer answer: I think the best possible result would be to leave the EU and do it well, i.e. negotiating an agreement that would maintain most of the benefits of membership while getting rid of most of the burdens. I just think it's incredibly unlikely that it would happen that way. Not only is the uncertainty of leaving huge, I think the downside is more likely than the upside.

So let's get into a few specifics. To the extent the EU is a force for free trade in goods and services and for free movement of people, I think it's generally a good thing. There are some theoretical reasons why limited free-trade areas might be less efficient that a consistent set of tariffs on all trade (basically, you might divert trade from a lower-cost external producer to a higher-cost external producer within the free-trade area), but I don't think this is a significant practical issue. Partial free-trade is more of a stepping stone toward wider free trade.

There are, however, a lot of burdensome regulations that come from the EU. One famous example is regulations on the curvature of bananas/ While often exaggerated in the popular Eurosceptic imagination, the fact they exist at all is ridiculous enough. In one televised debate, an audience member credited EU regulation with ensuring minimum room size in rented accommodation. I don't know the details, but let's assume she's right. This just makes it harder for lower-paid people to afford housing. There are more regulations on working hours and conditions. EU banking regulation can sometimes be a poor fit for the UK market. Each of these examples is individually small, and it's hard to point to clearly identifiable negative impact from each, but they accumulate and reduce the efficiency of the economy. However, at the end of the day, I think the UK is all too capable of imposing burdensome regulation all on its own, so it's not at all clear to me how much there would be to be gained by leaving the EU.

Perhaps the biggest disaster of the European experiment is the euro. Fortunately, the UK has remained out of the single currency and there is no indication that we would ever join, so that's a non-issue here.

A lot of the most heated debate is around immigration. Nobody seems to worried about immigration from Western Europe. Illegal immigration from, say, Northern Africa is illegal anyway. The UK isn't part of the Schengen area, so it does check everyone coming in, who whatever issues there are with lax border control in some parts of the continent giving illegal immigrants access to other countries, it doesn't really impact things here. The biggest real question is around newer EU members, specifically those in Eastern Europe, plus the potential for Turkey. I'm not at all concerned about immigrants "coming here and taking our jobs". In many cases these immigrants are great workers. The Polish bricklayer or the Spanish waiter are stereotypes but also reality, and we're lucky to have them. Do some immigrants come here for more generous benefits? Maybe. But they seem to me to be substantially outnumbered by workers. And there are proposals to require a period of residency before someone is eligible for benefits, which addresses the issue much more directly. Finally, there is some concern over refugees, being welcomed warmly by some countries who are then looking to force others to do the same. This is a complex one for me. I'd like to see a decent alternative for those, e.g., fleeing the war in Syria. But at the same time, I think people are right to be worried about large numbers of refugees coming in,  becoming ghettoized (perhaps through self-segregation, perhaps through normal-segregation), not integrating into society, and becoming a disaffected permanent underclass. I don't have a good answer for this, but I'm not sure that leaving the EU provides that missing answer.

Finally, I think the anti-foreigner sentiment provides so much of the animating energy of the Leave campaign, that I like a Remain vote for its anti-anti-foreigner symbolism. I don't want to paint too broadly here. There are many sensible arguments for leaving, and many sensible people I know making them. But they are nearly drowned out by the objectionably ones. A lot of the Remain arguments are also bad. I actually find most of the arguments I hear from both sides to be pretty awful. But while the Leave side has most of the best arguments, it also has the worst. And the worst are much louder. And that counts for something.

Anyway, soon we'll know. Something.

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.