Facing Open Ocean Alone, Part 1

Adrian describes his eventful 5-day qualifier that brought him 100 NM offshore in preparation for the seventeenth biennial Singlehanded Transpacific Yacht Race.

BY ADRIAN JOHNSON

As most of you are probably aware through club scuttlebutt, I've been preparing Idéfix to compete in next year's Singlehanded Transpac, a biennial race from San Francisco to Hawaii. One of the requirements for the race is a qualifying cruise of no less than 400NM, going at least 100NM offshore, non-stop, under sail, singlehanded. I managed to complete this requirement last week, and thought I'd share my story here.

The forecast is for strong southerlies as a front comes through Friday, some strong westerlies dying down quickly Saturday (Halloween), replaced by easterlies for a little while before turning to the south, then back to the west and northwest, as a high moves over the area. All fairly mild, and not much rain, except Friday night when I'd be in port anyway. This might be the last opportunity of the year, so I decide to throw my gear on the boat and go for it.

I'm a little late getting started Friday and hit the sound about noon. The winds are around 15 knots from the south, and supposed to pick up. It’s good weather for some spinnaker practice, so I hoist the heavy kite. I'm a little past Kingston when the chute wraps around the forestay. I kind of want to see if it'll unwrap on its own, so I just watch it for a couple seconds. To my horror it starts quickly winding its way around the forestay. After 5 minutes of tugging at it desperately in building winds, I jibe the boat and the chute unwinds itself as quickly as it wrapped.

The wind is now in the mid-twenties, the boat is screaming towards Possession Point, and it's high time to jibe back to port. I take a minute to prep the maneuver, and jump on the foredeck to wrestle the pole.

As soon as I disconnect the pole, the boat rounds up and broaches. I let go of the pole and slide into the lifelines and waist deep water. I manage to crawl back to the weather side and into the cockpit and uncleat the first spinnaker line I come across. It goes screaming out and the chute is now flogging astern the port side of the boat. The wind is now in the thirties and I'm struggling to bring the sail back to the boat.

I look around and decide my best option is to lessen the load by tripping the halyard. I go for it and the sail promptly falls into the water - not exactly what I had in mind! I'm screaming in anger and desperation. The boat is now drifting sideways in the waves, dragging a chute full of water 50 feet off the stern. The tension in the sheet is incredible. It's going to be a miracle if I manage to bring this thing back aboard.

The winds are screaming, I'm soaking wet, the spinnaker pole that I'd abandoned during the jibe is swinging around wildly in the air, banging into the shrouds and mast. I start winching in the sail, pleading with it to come back aboard, cursing the winds, and winching in an inch at a time, pausing every minute to catch my breath. I eventually manage to grab the clew, then the foot, and finally pull the soaked sail into the cockpit. It's intact, minus one sheet.

I eventually get things sorted out and Idéfix starts tearing up the water under a #4 jib. In the inlet the waves pick up and she starts doing impressive surfs. On some of the steeper waves the boat pauses at the top for a second before pitching down into the trough and plowing into the next wave, sending a wall of foam a foot deep over the deck and into the cockpit. The knotmeter is staying in the double digits, and hitting 15 knots in the surfs. Every once in a while the boat rounds up and I have to fight the tiller for twenty seconds or so to get the bow pointed back downwind.

I reach Port Townsend at dusk, tie up and look inside the boat. The bilge is full, but most of my gear is dry. I'm soaked, but my foulies are still dry in my bag. I take a shower, make dinner, and go to bed, full of doubts as to my ability to handle the boat in the downwind conditions I'd encounter on the trip to Hawaii, and wondering whether this race is really a good idea.