avionbianca   Blog for s/v Avion

We sailed Avion to Kewalo Harbor in Honalulu last Friday.  We left Kaneohe Bay at 6:00 AM and had an easy day sail around the south side of the island.  We have a slip here for two months in this commercial-boat harbor.   We are actively considering staying longer, although redevelopment plans for Kewalo Harbor are pending so we may have to change marinas. From here, we can explore  longer-term options in the area.

Each day we go out in discovery mode to find the things and services we need now that we are here in Hawaii.  We have found places to buy things like goggles with prescription lenses, snorkels with two tubes, flippers, swimming suits that will dry (quickly), flip-flops, short pants, rash-guard tee-shirts, kickboards, and other equipment so we can play in the water.  We have found places to buy food and ice, fill prescriptions, and send mail. After these exploratory trips mid-day, we go to the beach at Ala Mona Park to swim in the late afternoon.

On Wednesday, we spent most of the day at the beach.   We went to the beach at 11:00am in the morning, to catch the high tide.  Once we were all geared-up, I realized we have may have invented a new mode of playing in the water:  snorkel-surfing.  I swam out beyond the reef to where the surfers were catching the breaking waves in my snorkel gear and kickboard.  The surfers ignored me while I hung with them and watched the waves form and surge by us.  By stretching out with the kickboard and kicking with the fins, I was able to ride some waves for a short distance.  But with my new goggles and snorkel, I found that looking down at the fish was more interesting.  I saw much larger, more colorful fish, swimming in schools.  I just hung around and watched the fish.

Eventually, I realized that Megan had not followed me out, that I was alone, and the wind was blowing me side-ways to the beach. I wondered if I might be exposed to a rip-tide.  I took a minute to catch my breath, found a bearing (a new high-rise building), and started swimming up-wind, against the tide. I swam out and around the surfers, into a section of heavy waves, and slowly made progress toward an area with heavier waves.  Eventually I got into the larger waves letting them carry me back over the reef and into shore. I followed my bearing back to Megan, who was waiting for me on the beach.

We will go snorkel-surfing again to take another look at the big fish on the outside of the reef. This time we will go together, staying together.

The new picture at the top of the blog is from our launch-spot, on Ala Mona beach.  Megan took it, using panorama-mode on an Apple-device.  It is just 5 minutes from the boat.

We spent the morning copying, sorting, consolidating and naming pictures from our devices (Apple, Android, camera).  I have just created a new page and published them there.  There is an order, based on the naming convention I developed, but it is not really visible to end-users, so they seem to be in random order. Most are pictures, but there are some short videos as well.

These picture and sort videos give another dimension to our daily experience during the race, driving, morning sunrises, catching a fish, the sea-surface, enjoying the sun during the day, the first sighting of land as we approached Hawaii, and more.  I hope you enjoy. Look for the page named “2016PacCup pics”, at the top of the blog. The URL is: https://avionbianca.com/2016paccup-pics/

We finished late Monday evening on July 25th, thirteen days and 12 hours after the start. Yesterday we indulged in the simple pleasures of civilization, hot water (showers), food cooked by someone else (that is handed to you), ice (in a bag for $1), laundry service (just give the dirty clothes to someone), barbequed fish (ahi), cold water (lots of it), and lots of conversation (with other sailors). The stories are about what broke (lots of stuff, on other boats), how many sails they tried to use and lost (many spinnakers), how heavy the wind was, how fast they went, how tired they got, when they finished, and if they got an award. Records were set in the heavy wind.  We have not been following the Pacific Cup web site, so we know very little about this topic, and turn that into questions.

What interests me is the stories about what went wrong on other boats.  One sailor friend said, “If this was my first Pacific Cup, I am not certain I would do another.” He was referring to the heavy wind , confused sea state, and all the things that went wrong on his boat. Putting together the stories, not including blowing-out various sails, there were issues with rigging, securing with the mast, engine harness melting, refrigerator failing, head failing, through hull valves blowing out, satellite phones failing, instruments failing, autopilots failing, water tanks leaking or being contaminated with salt water, and more.

As I hear the details, I feel secretly proud of Avion, as she had none of these issues.  Plus, we drove by hand 95% of the time.  Some boats used the autopilots the whole way,  and the sailors just pushed buttons and hung on (“hiding behind the dodger”).  We drove Avion by hand (tiller, not wheel), in 3 hour shifts (very demanding), because we could adjust to the sea-state and waves better than the autopilot.  But when the news about Darby came out, and we slowed down to avoid it, we started using the new NKE gyro-pilot, and we were very happy with the performance.  In moderate conditons, it drove the boat as well as we did.  This is important knowledge for Megan and I as we prepare to do some cruising around the Hawaiian islands.

I was protested by the race committee yesterday.  I violated a new rule about not throwing trash into the ocean.  When I threw the S4 spinnaker back in the water, after retrieving it to get the lines and hardware off it, it became ocean trash.  At the time, my calculation was that the sail was beyond repair; and it would be a big wet mess on the boat, I had no where to put it.  But now I have been educated; I do not want to pollute the ocean with a big piece of nylon that will not degrade for years.  I agreed to a 24 hour penalty to avoid going to a hearing.

Yesterday I looked at the blog, and was surprised that there were over 70 comments that needed approval.  I am flattered that over 20 people regularly logged-in during the race.  It is one of the wonders of the internet that it is possible to follow sporting events in real-time.  Today, Megan and I have been consolidating our pictures, and after this posting, I will start to upload pictures from the race.  Stay tuned.

The ocean is so big that it seems empty at times, so it feels good to see land again. We came in from the south, to within sign of the islands of Hawaii. This was the first time I had seen the big island, Maui, Moloki and others. We still cannot see Oahu, but will soon.

The Pacific Cup is one of the top ten ocean races in the world. The course is over 2,000 miles, and in the middle, one is more than 1,000 miles from land in any direction. For me, the last day of this race is a bittersweet moment. I want to take a moment to observe some things I have learned on this trip about my boat, my crew and myself.

I am in tune with Avion at a much deeper level. Avion was designed by Paul Elfstrom, the first man to win Olympic goal metals in four consecutive Olympics, 1948 to 1960, in sailing, never mind any sport. He is from Denmark, so naturally he designed a racing boat that is fast, long and narrow and cuts through the water, and functionally comfortable down below. I knew what she wants to go faster. I hear her sounds, feel her movements, and respect her systems at a level where she is alive to me, a true partner.

I am have deep respect for my crew. Being short-handed crew of three, we have been on duty for 3 hour watches. This is a long time. On most fully crewed boats of 5 or six, the watch is limited to one hour, max. So, three hour watches are not easy; eyes get tired, the body gets cold, srms get sore. When David came up on deck in the middle of the night, dressed and fully prepared for the cold wind, with a smile, a relieves you, you feels a deep gratitude. Or when Megan came up on deck and offered to make some coffee, and came to sit with you for awhile, the feeling of gratitude is very deep. My crew on this trip are not all best friends; we have had our share of minor emotional events and dramas, as there always are when 3 people much spend two weeks together living and working in a small space. By holding down all your shifts, never complaining, cleaning up after yourself, preparing food for one another, the true character of a person is revealed.

There is the old Navy phrase, “One hand for yourself, one for the boat.” This is true on many levels. We must stay on the boat, so we can help to sail it. We must take care of ourselves first, so we can then be able to help others. We must take care of our gear and clothing, feed and hydrate ourselves, and clean our bodies so we can then go forth, and do our duties to others, to be a good crew mate. Without that, we are unhappy, sick, and unable to perform. So, just doing what is expected is a major accomplishment.

In temrs of myself, this is the third time I have done this race. The first time, in 2010, I just showed up at the last minute, and filled a sudden crew opening. I did it, and I did my duty, and we finished third in our division, and I had the bug. BBut I did not truly appreciate how hard it was, or how much preparation was required to get a boat or oneself ready for such en event. In 2014, I worked over two years to prepare my boat and develop a crew of 5 to sail with me (six total). I could not have done it without the incredible commitment each of those 5 guys made to the program. We became a team, and had fun.

In 2016, I signed-up in December, and was put on the wait list until May, but I got a head start on the assumption that I would get to go. When the call came, Avion was ready with a new engine, cooler converted to refrigerator, new rudder bearings, new bottom paint, and new autopilot. However, my crew had wandered-off to other activities, had new work and family obligations, or in general, so were no longer available. The only potential crew was my new girlfriend, Megan. As a boat owner and cruising sailor, she was interested; to her credit, she was not afraid. However, sailing a 40 foot, technical boat like Avion short-handed required a lot of time and practice. Since we are both retired, we had the time, we started to sail frequently around the greater SFBay region. We brought in several people to coach us on advanced skills like spinnakers, and made a lot of progress. We considered bringing in another couple to join us, or another make and female crew, to keep a balance, but it was too late to bring in any others. We did however, find a good coach, David Bennett, who had done the Transpac eight times; he knew what we needed, and was very effective at breaking down sailing maneuvers for short-handed crew. We decided we wanted to sail double-handed, but having three crew would be the best option, the third crew would bring more energy, more experience, be another hand on deck; and in David’s case, bring deep Coast Guard training. He eventually signed-up to sail with us. He has been an incredible sailing partner, fearless and while it is hard to admit, we could not have done this trip without him.

In summary, I have learned that being the Captain and Skipper of a short-handed boat means that almost everything comes back to me. I sometimes got stressed when I wish I should have cracked a joke. I sometimes got tired, but I recovered quickly. I trust my boat under heavy weather conditions. I made good investments in the boat, the equipment and systems held-up, and worked as expected, and if not, I knew how to fix the issues that emerged. So, I have learned that I can do this, can go long-distance sailing on the ocean. Megan and I have discussed staying in Hawaii for awhile, to sail, discover and explore together. The only limitation is our imagination.

There will be more to come, as we are still sailing. We have called in the 100 mile check-in. We are currently about 60 miles away as the crow flies. We are sailing on a realistic course to stay in the wind, so we can finish today.

I have not been able to access this blog while sailing, so I can only hope it is readable. I will find out once on land with an internet connection. Thanks for following along in this journey. Tom

It is hard to type on a boat that is moving at 8 knots.
Please excuse the typo in the heading of the previous posting. Tom

This is a race, and we will finish. There is no sign of the tropical depression as we have come in behind to it. For the past three days we have enjoyed the deep blue of the ocean, sparking with sunlight. The boat is cruising along at 7 to 9 knots in 18 knots of wind with the Jib Top and one reef in the main. The boat is now on Island time.

We are evaluating our approach options. The latest projection by Expedition puts us 24 hours from the finish line, with 200 miles to go. We are trying to be realistic about the courses we can hold.

I am glad we are looking at a day time arrival at 6:30 pm, in 10 knots of wind. At least we will have wind and be able to see the finish line, as distinct from the finish in 2014, when there was no wind and the finish line had been blown away in a storm the previous day.

It is hard to be philosophical after 12 days of sailing hard, so I will say that I am looking forward to a Mai Tai at the dock in Kaneohe Bay Yacht Club. More to come.

My current strategy for Avion’s arrival in Kaneohe is as follows:

1. Avion is currently 540 miles from Kaneohe.
2. We are able to hold a heading of roughly 250 mag. We are getting winds of 18 to 22 knots, and maintaining an average boat speed of 7.3 knots.
3. Expedition is projecting arrival in 2 days 18 hours from now (Friday at 10:30 AM), which is Monday morning at 4:00am.

Comments:
–The worst of Darby should pass in front of us.
–I know 4:00 AM arrival is not great timing, but so be it. It is still just a projection.
–Avion is a 40 foot boat, we should be able to handle rough weather.
–I would like to know as much as possible about the winds and sea state
–Race Committee has removed all restrictions from accessing commercial weather. They are sending Commander’s Weather updates via email.
–So, I will have access to the best information available before making the final approach.

Stay tuned. There will be more to come…

Several days ago, we learned we were in last place in our division. My crew was surprised but still competitive. We still wanted to do our best, drive the boat fast and try to at least be not last. Now, with the latest weather information on hand, my opinion is, screw the race altogether. Yees, we are in a race, but it is just a game we sailors play, it is nothing compared to my responsibility to bring my boat and crew into Oahu safely.

I had been thinking we might be able to beat the remnants of Darby to HA, but that is no longer the case. It will land as a tropical depression on Saturday, and will bounce off the big island to the north west as we approach. So, maybe we slow down and take our time, and let this weather event clear, even if it leaves light winds in its wake. Even if it means we are finish last.

My motivations for doing this race was to sail to Hawaii shorthanded, with my girlfriend, and take full ownership of every detail of preparing, managing and sailing my boat. The race is a structure, a context, an event for achieving this goal. I will achieve this goal by finishing the race with no equipment failures and no injuries.

Megan is holding her own, and David is in his element, and I am happy to be doing (not just talking). We are doing very well as a crew, given that wee came together late in the process.

We are sailing to the south, taking what the wind gives us, and monitoring the weather closely. We have the food, water and fuel to adjust to the conditions. Stay tuned. More to come.

Sailing with a crew of three, every second counts. The most important task is driving the boat, as there is no stopping. We are doing 3 hour shifts, starting with me at 3-6pm, David 6-9, Megan 9-12, Tom 12-3, David 3-6, and Megan 6-9am. The rest of the time is flexible, based on personal needs, boat projects, and spontaneous events. We evolved into the structure to make sure we each get enough sleep. We are tending toward a big lunch that we try to each together, but eat breakfast and lunch based on who is inspired to prepare and share something.

Since we started heading south, we have been making pretty good time. The driver does what he or she needs to do to control the boat and keep it going in approximately 180 degrees, and the people down below hang on as they are bounced around. Sleeping is easy. Cooking is not so easy. Making coffee is dangerous.

The sun came out yesterday and illuminated the water with an incredible, rich, royal, aqua blue. There is really no word for this color. It is captivating, fascinating and mesmerizing; I can look at it as the surface pulses with wave energy.

The big event yesterday was catching a fish. A Dorado, pretty sblue and yellow, turning to green. Megan is the best fisher person on board, so she and I cleaned it up and cut big hunks of meat for the refrig. I made cerveche for the evening dinner.

I am of course concerned about the weather. We will turn for our final approach to Hawaii around 5:00 pm today. I hope we can drive fast enough to get into Ohau before the next tropical depression hits on Monday. We might be in last place, but we are now in a race with the weather. I need to get the latest GRIB files now. More to come.

The Paccific Cup is popular is a downwind race, where sailors get to fly spinnakers. Our time to launch a spinnaker came yesterday morning. We tried to launch the S4 yesterday but it did not go according to plan. The S4 is a smaller symmetrical spinnaker made of one and a half ounce material for heavy weather. We knew it would be a challenge to control once we got it up, because of the wild and rather confused sea state, but we wanted this sail so we could sail a heading more directly toward Hawaii. We took our time in preparing to launch the S4, as it has many moving parts, guys and sheets, and a pole. We set up deliberately for a starboard pole, where the spinnaker itself is set on the port, or left side of the bow. With just three crew, each crew has a crucial role to perform; one must drive, one run the lines from the cockpit, and one run the mast and bow. So, Megan was driving, Tom was in the cockpit, and David was on the bow.

We started to hoist the sail, which should be done quickly, and awhjen about half of the sail was up, the halyard got struck, and we could all see that the sail bag was lifted off the deck, tangled up with the jib sheets. David had to stop hoisting, and go over to try to free the sail bag. But in the instant between freeing the line from the bag, and jumping back to tart hoisting again, the spinnaker collapsed and fell into the water. Once this happened, the boat stopped moving, and the rest of the sail was dragged into the water, along with all the lines.

In an instant, everything had changed, and the sail had become a sea anchor. We tried to pull it back into the boat, but the lines were all under great tension, so we considered if we would need to cut them. I keep a big knife in the cockpit for emergencies like this, but I did not want to use it yet. The boat was not in danger, and we needed the halyard, sheets and guys to sail to Hawaii. I noticed that between the boat and the new sea anchor, there were moments where the lines relaxed slightly between waves, and I called for us to all pull the lines during those moments. Slowly but surely, hand over hand, the sail started to come to the boat. Firsst we pulled the lines, and then we were able to get our hands on sail and pull it, foot by foot, back onto the boat. We finally got all of it back onboard. We disconnected the lines and gear, and examined the sail. It was ripped and useless, beyond repair. I remembered that this was the spinnaker that Megan and I had first flown together, but I decided to donate it to the ocean, and we threw it overboard and got the boat moving again, under the main sail alone.

We started debating the our options. Avion carries five spinnakers and three jibs, so we still had plenty of choices. We settled on a sail plan with the lowest center of effort, a poled-out jib top, with one reef in the main. The jib top was already on deck, so we set it up the pole, and quickly raised the jib top. The boat immediately started moving 3 knots faster, and she stabilized as her keel dug deep into the water. We had survived a dangerous situation and the only loss was a sail that cost $2,000. Oh well, we were underway again, and that was all the mattered. We could sail at an average of 7 knots for the next four or five days, depending upon the wind.

Stay tuned. More to come.
Please excuse any typos, this was written while underway.
Tom