The Call of the Ocean is a documentary film about Tapio Lehtinen, who took part in the extremely challenging Golden Globe Race in 2018-19, and became one of the sport’s legends with his performance. The race is sailed alone around the globe with boats representing the technology of 1968, without stops, refueling, or physical human contact. Lehtinen completed the 30,0000 nautical mile voyage in 322 days, which elevated him to the ranks of international sports legends. Lehtinen is the sixth person in the world to have circumnavigated the globe via Cape Horn singlehanded, without stopping, navigating only with a sextant.
Tyvärr blir det inget Pantaenius Bohusrace för oss i Open 7.50.
Vi har aldrig seglat båten i >10 m/s. Vi har aldrig seglat den shorthanded, Då är det inte läge att ta ut den på Marstrandsfjorden för det är +15 m/s i byarna.
När jag tittar på vår roiuting så hade vi varit vid Hätteberget vid typ 18:00.
Arpège = 28 knop
ECMWF = 25
GFS = 26
ICON = 26
HIRLAM = 25
SMHI säger 28 knop med 36 i byarna.
Vi önskar alla andra lycka till. Det ser i alla fall ut att bli ett snabbt race.
Bermuda is a fantastic place. But after recovering from leg one and getting boats and (most) skippers back in race condition, everyone was ready to go again. And as co-skippers, or “number two” started to arrive, everyone became increasingly restless.
The weather forecast promised a fast start; “Wind SSW at the start at or above 20 knots, likely backing to SW through the afternoon. Seas 5-7 feet. Showers and squalls becoming possible farther north.” then more wind and a number of fronts driven by a low over New England. The last third was a bit uncertain, and speculations ranged from no wind to 20+ knots NE.
As before leg one, the big talking point was naturally the Gulf Stream, and how to avoid the meander. The consensus was to go west. But the big question was how far?
J/105 Young American showing off before the start. Peter Becker and Adrien Blanc did an outstanding race by just pushing harder than everyone else. The 105 is a great shorthanded boat with stability enough to excel in the conditions we had, but this was next level.
We managed to be first over the line but were soon passed by Cole Brauer and Catherine Chimney in Class 40 First Light.
Logbook Thursday June 15 20:00 EDT
Thank you Bermuda!!!
Beautiful location, great weather and wonderful people, But it was time to leave. No matter how fantastic a place is, at some point you need to set sail.
The start was right inside St George Harbor, in SSW 12-18 knots. Downwind start so a quick getaway through the narrow “cut” that separate the harbor from the Atlantic ocean.
As in Newport, we were the first boat over the line. We opted for full main and jib, but were ready to put the A5 up as soon as we got out to sea.
The Class 40 went with a flat gennaker and passed us after 500 meters. We managed to keep all the other boats behind, and when we left the island and popped the chute we quickly extended on all the other boats.
We gybed around the first mark and had a short run with the gennaker before we needed to tak it down to go NW.
The Class 40 quickly vanished, and we lead a pack of boats aiming for a westerly route. We managed to keep them behind. but just now being passed by J/121 Alchemy.
J/120 Abilyn is just behind and J/105 Young American aft to leeward. It looks like everyone have the same strategy as us. Feels better than being alone :-)
Wind is 18-24 knots from 200-230. So a bumpy reach with main and jib. Average speed is 9.2-9.5 knots, and we keep pushing.
We had a couple of squalls. One with 35 knots and massive rain showers. Had to take a reef to ride it out.
The forecast is for more of the same. So we need to be careful tonight if we get more squalls.
It’s great to be at sea, and to have someone to share the workload with. And the experience.
See you all tomorrow.
After taking down the A5 we settled in for a port tack speed race.
We had decided on a pretty simple 3 hour watch schedule. PG = Peter Gustafsson, MB = Mattias Bodlund, gem = comnmoin watches that we do together for breakfast & dinner (usually both get a few naps during these). (w) means weather, i e when I download gribs and does the most routing.
Logbook Friday June 16 07:00 EDT
One. Of. Those. Nights.
Pitch black. 20-22 knots of wind on the beam. Waves wash over the boat. Everything is wet. Very bumpy, and hard to do anything. Messing about with a reef. It makes it a bit more comfortable but seems to be a tad slower.
You get the picture. Just miserable.
Does anyone want to buy a J/111?
The good thing is that our westerly pack of boats are staying together. J/121 Alchmy is hard to stop in those conditions and is occasionally a knot faster. J/105 Young American and J/120 Abilyn are very similar to us.
We still have 129 nm to go to where we think we’ll cross the Gulf Stream. But who knows? Sometimes after midnight
But before that, there could be a front with 30+ knots. Just to keep us busy. Weather models are uncertain.
Back to the mine.
Squall time. Massive rain, 40 knots of wind and the choice of going dead downwind or just get the main down asap.
BLUR Friday June 16 17:00 EDT
Friday is Squall-day.
Wasn’t this supposed to be a rather boring grey day with 20 knots of wind and a tight reach going NNW? Apparently not. Got us a few massive squalls. More rain than I’ve ever seen, thunder, lightning, and enough wind to take the main down and survive with jib only
Oh, we had a front passage as well. And a few throughs with lots of wind. So we’ve been going back and forth between full main and 1 or 2 reefs.
Life onboard sucks a little bit less than yesterday. It’s still wet, bumpy, and hard to do anything. It’s hard to make coffee or food, it’s hard to go on the toilet, it’s hard to get dressed – i e getting into soaking wet foul weather gear,
The only thing that’s easy is falling asleep going off-watch.
But we’re getting used to it. Getting into our routines. Appreciating small things. And just keep hammering.
The jury is still out when it comes to Gulf Stream strategy. Our little J/boats group (J/121 Alchmy, J/105 Young American, J/120 Abilyn, and J/111 Blur) is staying together. We’re 50 nm west of rhumbline which should be enough to avoid the main stream. We have 1.5 knots adverse current, but are not sure what it is.
Anyway, we’re committed to this and we’ll see how it plays out.
Good night everyone. Really appreciate all the followers out there, and I can’t tell you how much your comment means to us.
When we put in our big second reef (reducing the luff by 40% – similar to a 3rd reef) we thought it looked kind of silly. But we’ve had good use of it in several races.
Logbook Saturday June 17 07:00 EDT
Fast and furious.
Since 01:40 we’ve had 20-30 knots from SW and building seas. So we’re pushing hard towards (what we think) is the best place to cross the Gulf Stream. Still, 70 nm to go. And 315 nm to Newport. So halfway celebration today,
It’s full-time hand steering to not broach or bury the bow in a wave. Quite hairy in the pitch black night with thunderstorms and lightning on the horizon. So much easier after sunrise (I got a tiny glimpse of the sun before the sky went grey again.
Otherwise, life on board is good. We have 3-hour watches, and two common ones for breakfast & dinner. That means 3*3=9 hours of possible sleep + some shorter naps during the day. Sleep-deprived, but not too bad. We also eat well (last night was Creamy Tuscan Chicken with pasta). Delicious.
My ribs (that I hurt on leg one) are better, but I’m still on painkillers. It’s amazing how many movements on a boat affect the ribs. The common “I’ll just reach a little further and grab this” for example. Or steering. Or sleeping.
Time for breakfast. Then back to work.
Logbook Saturday June 17 20:00 EDT
Hello, my dear friend the Gulf Stream.
This time we found the stream right where we thought it was. There is hope for me as a navigator after all🙂
After a day with a mix of glorious and fast running down waves, and double reefing in squalls, we were greeted by massive clouds rain, and finally no wind at all.
When the new wind filled – we were upwind, closed hauled on port tack. Now we’re under jib and two reefs doing +8 knots towards Newport. Less than 200 nm to go.
The Gulf Stream measured 50 nm south to north, and we had max 3.4 knots of easterly currents.
Besides fighting with J/129 Abylin, J/46 Resolute has joined us on AIS. They’re 10 nm to leeward. So I guess our westerly route beat their rhumbline variant.
It’s hard to match the bigger boats in these conditions (TWA 80 in 20-22 knots). But we’ll do what we can.
Over and out from the uncomfortable ship Blur and two very salty sailors.
Logbook BLUR Sunday June 18 07:00 EDT
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
What a night!
I can remember many miserable nights on race boats. And on a J/111 they’re very often at TWA 60 in +24 knots of breeze. It’s just an inferno. The boat is flying over waves slamming into the next. At least a couple of times I’ve looked into the forepeak expecting a hole. Water over the deck hosing down anyone that sticks their head out. Nearly impossible to live in a washing machine set to “crew breaking”.
A few times, we’ve had a crew who never been seasick and were bragging about fishing boats on the North Sea. 30 minutes of this cracked them 🙂
Oh, and our third crew member, the autopilot, has decided to protest our choice of settings and put in 3-4 spontaneous tacks, Very irritating, but we figured out a way to gybe back on course.
The positives? We’re fast. We’ve been matching J/120 Abilyn all night.
The forecast indicates that the conditions should improve in a few hours. We’ll see. 122 nm to go, so early Monday morning ETA.
Why we do it?
Apparently, to appreciate normal life!
Breakfast time. Mattias is super happy to get some yoghurt and granola.
Wewere able to stick to our routines when it came to drinking, eating and sleeping. This was key to be able to hold the gas pedal down even when the conditions were rough.
Our Gulf Stream strategy was pretty spot on. A few boats went a little further west and had 0.1-0.2 knots less adverse current. Most of us saw 1-1.4 knots. But I think we entered the main stream in the right place, and tried to find an angle where we had some help (and not fighting against it).
I lost most of my confidence on the first third of leg one, but after that we’ve managed to be in the right place most of the time.
It was also funny that the worlds foremost Gulf Stream expert, Frank Bohlen, credited a few of us for our feedback on leg one:
The rapid changes in Gulf Stream structure and location that started in late April early May of this year are continuing producing a complexity of flows and complicating optimum routing for boats going to or coming from Bermuda. Some of this complexity, and too often differences between model predictions and observed conditions, was experienced first hand by the Bermuda 1-2 competitors during their Newport to Bermuda leg. Some of these differences were the result of interactions between the flows in the main body of the Stream and those associated with warm and cold core rings. Of particular interest was the response of the warm core ring clearly observed in early May sited near 390 30’N 680 30’W adjoining the edge of the continental shelf (Fig.1). As the meander developed over the next two weeks this ring looked to be “absorbed” by the main body (Fig.2). This belief was supported by both the altimetry based model and the Navy HYCOM model. Direct observations however, by boats transiting the area, suggest that the ring maintained a structure sufficient to produce a well defined clockwise circulation resulting in some amount of adverse current (for south going boats) along the rhumb line just south of the continental shelf. The evolution of this feature over the last two weeks is even more interesting.
An excellent opportunity to dry the boat. It’s amazing how water, both rain and sea, manages to find it’s way into so many areas. Blur is a very dry boat below, and most of the water comes through the companionway when crew comes down or we haul sails up and down.
Logbook Sunday June 18 20:00 EDT
What a difference a day makes.
From “washing machine inferno” to coasting along in the sun in 14 knots of breeze. And with the change of conditions, the crew’s mood changes as well.
Finally, a chance to get out of the boots and foul weather gear we’ve lived in for the last few days And to try to dry some of the things on board.
We’ve been sailing with J/120 Abylin and J/105 Young American most of the way, and after 600 nm it’s turning into a tactical challenge before the finish- The westerly breeze is giving way to a southeasterly 20-30 nm from the finish.
Young American opted to go right and be first into the new breeze. Abylin is in the middle just getting it, and we’re still in the old breeze, but I think we’ll have a better angle when we get the new one. We’ll see. Just trying to do what we can until the race is over,
My guess is that the Class 40 and J/121 will top the leaderboard, and that the smaller boats will struggle.
We just had a fabulous Sunday dinner. Cheese and crackers to start, then a Chipotle Burrito Bowl (with several additional hot sauces), and to top it off, we got coffee and chocolate. Yummy!
ALERT: just got the new breeze. Gotta go.
See you all in Newport!
Just as promised, we hit the transition. We managed to sail around Abilyn using the old breeze and spent maybe 30 minutes in light air before…
…we could get the A3 up and get going again…
… and then we hooked into the northeasterly that let us put up the code and speed towards the finish line just south of Newport.
A fantastic feeling.
Code 0 up, going fast at TWA 110-120, just on the edge. Blasting Eminem and The Hives. Knowing we made it. Not just in one piece, but probably with a decent result.
Two exhausted sailors looking lost at Newport Yacht Club.
But after a while, we found a beer. And a shower. And a bed.
Leg one was very hard to summarize since so many things were new, and it was very emotional for me as it was my first ocean solo race. Leg two was more familiar as we’ve done long offshore races doublehanded, and this type of racing is similar to the fully crewed 600 nm races we “usually do”.
Some observations:
The J/111 can be raced hard. Really hard. In the conditions we had, I’m sure we as a crew would break before the boat did.
But, the J/111 is not the ideal boat for this type of racing. It’s light, sensitive and lack stability. Things that make it a fantastic boat inshore but makes it rather demanding shorthanded offshore. But this also makes the challenge bigger for us as a crew which is
Preparation is key. This should not come as a surprise, but after 1700 nm of hard racing nothing broke on the boat except the extra cover on the main halyard (that was scheduled for replacement before the start). All those hours replacing stuff before it needs reåplacing, and triple checking everything, really pays off.
Routines work. We managed to stick with our schedule for drinking, eating, and sleeping/napping and had theenergy to spare at the finish. Some smart decisions in the light winds at the end may be attributed to this.
A fantastic race that I really like to do again.
Thanks to everyone who made this possible.
Especially Phil Haydon, Tim Kohl, and PJ Shaffer at NEB who helped out when things went sideways for me. And naturally, The Newport Yacht Club, Roy Guay & Ted Singsen for organizing. The best events around the world aren’t run by committees but by people with big hearts.
Also a big thanks for the support: J/boats, North Sails, B&G, Expedition Marine, Henri-Lloyd, Liros, Happy Yachting, Spinlock, Cyclops Marine, Pantaenius, and many more
Time to race back to Newport. This time with Mattias Bodlund as co-skipper.
The start is at 11:00 EDT Thursday. It looks like a decent southwesterly to get north, then a slight chance of 40+ knots before we enter lighter winds when we approach Newport. The biggest question is, naturally, how to manage the Gulf Stream.
Again, our priority is to finish in one piece. We’ll have a hard time to beat the optimized shorthanded boats in our class, SunFast 3300 and Figaro 2, that will love the conditions. But anything can happen.
It’s very hard to distill a race like this into one blog post.
Naturally, there are the facts; the YellowBrick track and the Expedition log files that account for what happened, second by second. Then there’s my, subjective and emotional, version. And they don’t really match…
The data says it was a four-day rather tough race. Other skippers, who have done up to 8 races, confirm that this was one of the roughest.
But in my mind, it felt shorter than the 24-hour races I’d done before. And all the hard work, sail changes, and difficult tactical decisions fades into a very positive natural flow.
Out there, I tried to reflect on what was different, and I said out loud to myself “This is just a daily grind, just hard work, nothing special”. But now I see that it’s nothing like anything I’ve done before.
Before the start
I’ve never been this prepared for a race.
And I’m known for leaving no stone unturned.
I knew that the boat was 100%. I knew that I as the crew was as close to 100% as a could be (given the material I had to work with 😀). The big uncertainty was that I had never done a solo race longer than 36 hours, and I had never seen the Gulf Stream.
People kept reminding me about the last one.
The big topic was naturally the Gulf Stream, and how to avoid sailing in wind against the current. Frank Bohlen and other experts were pretty clear that going east of rhumbline would be the safest option.
Logbook – Friday 09:00 EDT
Start is at 11:00.
There are some low pressure systems forming north that will affect the race. Models are again very different so we’ll see what happens. Currently max wind is 30-38 knots, but at least it’s with us.
Biggest worry is entering the Gulf Stream, as wind against current can make the sea state really bad. So trying to pick the safest entry point and then gradually get into the better flow. Again, a balance between racing and preserving boat and crew.
Right now looking at 3.5 days.
Will try to do an update at least every morning.
Getting out of Newport
Finally race day!
Even if a few seconds at the start don’t really matter, I always try to go through the same procedure and ping the marks. There was a clear advantage at the pin end, so naturally, I had to nail the pin. Also happy to put on a show for the J/boats team out cheering and taking photos.
To bring a J/111 from Europe and race in their backyard was kind of special.
After crossing the fleet on port, the faster boats crossed tracks a few times. Naturally, the Class 40 was faster than all of us, but me, J/121 Alchemy, and J/46 Resolute were pretty similar and had close crossings a number of times before settling in on a long starboard tack.
To the Gulfstream
As promised the wind became lighter and lighter and there were a number of fog banks.
I put up the code 0 and stayed north of the fleet. I wanted to hit the Gulf Stream about 20 nm east of rhumbline, and all my models showed that it would make sense to stay north to be first into the NE wind when it hit.
In fluky conditions, I went back and forth between jib, code and even A3.
On two occasions I parked up, but the boats to the south seemed to have it even worse.
All night I was surrounded by whales blowing, and I also got a visit by an exhausted bird.
At 03:15 I got to the wind and at 06:30 it had stabilized at 20 knots from NNE. I thought I was perfectly positioned to the east together with Alchemy and most other boats on the rhumbline.
Logbook: Saturday 06:00 EDT
The wind is here. 20 knots from NE, so pretty much what the models said. Fast. But uncomfortable.
Yesterday was fantastic sailing, and pretty much a drag race on starboard. I opted for a more northern route both for pressure during the night, but also to be well positioned when the low came.
The wind was variable and I went back and forth between jib, code and A3. Parked up two times, but mostly had better speed than the boats to the south.
Add mist. And lot’s of whales blowing around the boat.
My routing, although I doubted it a few times, seems to have worked, as I’m ahead of the group going east. The only boat that I know dived south was the Class 40.
If everything goes according to plan I’ll enter the Gulf Stream at 16:00. Exciting!
PS. Did something happen with Abilyn? Saw him turn around and then lost his AIS.
Gulf Stream part I – not what I expected
A pretty grey day with winds between 22 and 28 knots. I took it carefully with main and jib but were still averaging 8 knots. Doublehanded I would have put up an A5 or something, but now I was just happy to make steady progress. The bad part was that I from 05:00 to 15:00 had an average of 1.3 knots of current against me.
But when I entered what I thought was the “real” Gulf Stream it got really bad. The following 11 hours I measured between 2,0 and 4,2 knots of current. Against me. And against the wind. This was exactly what people had been warning us about. 25-30 knots of wind against 3-4 knots of current. The seas were terrible and I was just happy that the angles worked out.
I tried to go even further east to avoid the current but remembered that the whole system probably was moving east. So after seeing 4,2 knots I just went south to get out of it.
None of my models had this northerly flow, and Jenifer Clark’s Gulfstream forecast directly advised on the route; “East has best favorable currents” and in general “favorable flows”. Glad to see that nobody knows what’s really going on :-)
TIME
CURRENT
15:00
2.50
16:00
3,38
17:00
3,55
18:00
3,67
19:00
3,31
20:00
3,09
21:00
3,00
22:00
3,10
23:00
3,20
00:00
3,10
01:00
2,00
My choice of going east had cost me significantly. Both to get there and then 45 nm extra spent in the current.
Logbook: Saturday 20:00
All is well on board. In my ambition to stay out of “wind against current” I went east and managed to find the 4 knots northerly against 25 knot of wind. Messy sea-state so I’m nursing both boat and crew and sailing with just the jib up.
So not in full racing mode. The goal here is to get there in one piece.
Try to hand steer a lot while still managing to eat and sleep. Pretty uncomfortable and wet. Wonder why we do this.
Have seen Alchemy ahead and Luna to the west. But now they to far for the AIS to see them.
Dinner: Beef Stroganoff.
Just 450 nm to go.
I remember life being pretty miserable here. Bumby and wet. Adverse current. Not really racing. I even took down the main for the night to get some decent sleep.
Gulf Stream part II – more like it
What a difference a day makes. And some sleep. And a decent breakfast.
Logbook: Sunday 04:00 EDT
Finally!
For those of you that follow the tracker my performance in the last 24 hours has been really bad.
I payed to go east to enter the Gulf Stream at a place where the chance of adverse current should be low, and then I could go south after the bad sea-state was over. Instead I got 80 nm with 3.0-4.2 knots current going 330-360, WTF!
And this against 2-30 knots of wind. And I can’t see this in any models or the maps I got before the race.
I tried to go even further east to get relief, but no sign of any. Then finally I just had to eat it and pound south, straight against it,
Anyhow.
Newbie misstake?
Or bad intel.
Gave up a lot of distance.
But now I got 26C in the water and 5 knots of current going 110. Looking better. But still bumpy as we’re doing 9-11 knots with just the jib. Main might go up tomorrow as I’ve been able to catch up on sleep.
Wind should stay at 24-26 knots into the afternoon.
Time to catch some boats.
The wind was typically 22-24 knots, and I was doing good progress with full main and jib. I was looking at the pile of gennakers and was tempted to put something up. But my strategy here was clear. No risk. My time would come.
Logbook: Sunday 18:00 EDT
A long day with lots going on.
After being miserable about the current for a while, I put the hammer down. For 6+ hours I averaged 9.75 knots (11.6 SOG) and finally found current going the right way.
Full main & jib was plenty and hand-steered most of the day to keep speed up. Wind was between 20 and 26 knots. At the end I averaged 11.5 and topped out at 18. Wind gusted 30. Seas was huge and I avoided surfing several of the biggest waves for safety reasons.
Borderline condition, and I ended taking the main down. Need to fix the halyard cover + get some rest. And eat. Still doing 11 knots SOG. As I said, I’m not here to win, but to finish in one piece. And pushing to hard can be costly.
Had a rendezvous with Diantus. We talked on the VHF, waved and took photos. Otherwise not many boats around.
The models says that wind will go below 20 knots tomorrow morning, so then I hope for some champagne sailing.
260 nm to go
Bermuda – here I come!
As soon as the wind came down the A2 came up.
I had waited for this moment and I wouldn’t let it pass me by.
Did someone land in the cockpit last night?
Logbook: Monday 08:00 EDT
Good news or bad news first?
First god news is that the big A2 genaker is up and we’re doing good speeds on port gybe. Looks like one gybe and similar conditions all the way to Bermuda. Lets try and catch some more boats.
170 nm to go and ETA is tomorrow morning.
Second good news is that I’ve managed to both eat and sleep well, so just keep it up. Simple Minds are played really loud and life in general is good.
I managed to get through the nasty stuff without breaking anything on the boat except the main halyard extra cover. Should naturally replaced it sooner.
The bad news then? I think I might have cracked a rib or two when a big wave slammed me into the mast taking the main down yesterday. Hurts like hell, but I’m able to sail the boat at 100%. The ships doctor has ordinated lots of painkillers and also a “Swedish Fish” (the candy) whenever the skipper feels sorry for himself.
On the nature side of things; besides all the whales Friday night, I had a bunch of dolphins play around the bow just now. Found a flying fish in the cockpit this morning and had an exhausted bird take refuge on the boat for several hours. Small thinks becomes notable out here.
The Finish
I thought I had figured out my weather models and how to get the most out of the remaining current, so Monday 11:00 with 155 nm to go I gybed to starboard for the final leg. Hard to call a layline this far away, but this time reality seemed to agree with my routing.
Skipper feels sorry for himself. Working on deck and being caught by a wave shouldn’t have been a problem. I usually hold on pretty tight, but now I was working with the main halyard in a position I wasn’t used to. Note to self: be prepared for a breaking wave at any time.
Logbook: Monday 18:00 EDT
Yup. Like any regular Monday I punched in bright and early and kept hammering all day. Sunny and nice, but winds are very variable with both wind cellsand patches of no wind.
Have been going back and forth between A3 (light reaching) and A2 (running in >6 knots). Quite a procedure to get one down and the other one up, running around the boat connected. And then someone need to pack them. Who? Looking at me?
I’ve passed a few boats, and I just got J/121 Alchemy showing up on my AIS. 15 nm ahead, but still I have contact. I think they were almost twice that ahead at one point.
127 nm to go.
Thanks for all advise regarding my broken ribs. No bruises, no blood in the urine, and generally feel very good except when I bump into things or when try special bowman poses (like jamming yourself in the pulpit to sort out the tacklines. PAINFUL! But I can scream out loud without anyone hearing.
After 500 nm, I’m asking myself if I enjoy this type of solo sailing? I thought the feeling of being alone for such a long time would feel different. I’m not hating it (I might have a few days ago) but I don’t get that special feeling I hoped for, or maybe feared, I might need some perspective before I decide.
Now wind is 6-8 knots from 260. Pretty comfortable now, but we’ll see what happens
Logbook: Tuesday 06:00 EDT
Best feeling ever: sunrise, an espresso and trucking along with the A2. And painkillers :-)
Last night I had J/121 Alchemy 15 nm ahead, an now they’re 12 behind. Maybe not in race mode anymore? We were doing similar speeds, but since I put up the A2 at 02:30 we’ve been faster than most boats around. I could have deployed it earlier, but I wanted some sleep to be ready for anything.
Wind is steady at 10-12 knots from NNW. Sea-state is good so the autopilot manages really well. We’re gaining more and more trust, me and “Frank”. He did’tr do well in the huge seas Saturday, so there was some yelling on my part. But getting to know him better (and playing with the settings) has improved my trust in him
He’s called “Frank” after “The Transporter”-movies. If yo know, you know.
Just 40 nm to the finish. I guess I lost track of time, and it sure doesn’t feel like I’m on day 4. I could just continue sailing like this for days or weeks. I guess that is a clear vote for this type of sailing.
But at the same time I really want to hang out with other people, have a few cold beers and some laughs. And being interrupted by silly texts from Molly and Anneli (daughter & partner). Miss them.
I guess it’s the contrasts that appeals to me.
I wonder if the weather is nice in Bermuda? I’ve never been there but many people seems to like it.
Anything that should be on my list of “things to do”?
Oh, I also need to know where I can find a really good barber?
I knew that the results on handicaps would be mediocre. The east/rhumbline route had clearly favored the small boats and me hitting the northerly current hadn’t helped. But I could still beat most of them on the water. My approach avoided the lighter air in the east and I didn’t have to gybe to get to the finish.
I really did it. I raced solo to Bermuda… Amazing feeling.
This is a good time to reflect on the experience. I still hasn’t decided if this is for me, but I enjoyed it (most of the time) and think I managed really well considering it was the first time I did anything like this.
POSITIVE 1
I managed myself in the way I planned; routines, eating, drinking, sleeping, resting, etc. I felt energized and ready for what needed to be done and never became sleep deficient or hungry. I had short 15-minute naps during the day and close to shore, and longer 90-minute sessions offshore.
Every day a sturdy breakfast with either oatmeal or Greek yogurt and granola. For lunch, I either had sandwiches or a freeze-dried meal. Dinner was fantastic meals from Pinnacle Foods. Then I snacked a lot in between. Especially to keep the energy up on deck. I drank water, electrolytes, and sports drinks from Maurten.
POSITIVE 2
I was able to shift between, and stick to different modes; “100% race mode” and “preservation mode”. This was very helpful to manage different priorities and not be frustrated by the lack of performance when taking the foot off the gas.
POSITIVE 3
Boat setup. I’ve done over 25.000 nm with the boat so I know what maneuvers work and what don’t. I know our strengths and when to maximize them, but also our weaknesses and when to live with them. I also trust the boat and the systems, and very few things break offshore. This time it was just the extra cover on the main halyard, and we have decided that this should be changed before every major race (which I didn’t).
POSITIVE 4
Time perspective. Never have I felt that such a long race went by so quickly. Typically you sit and count down the miles to the next rounding or how many watches you have left to the finish. Now I was in a state of flow for most of the race, and suddenly it was over.
Is this a typical solo sailor thing?
NEGATIVE 1
Not being careful on deck. I’m not sloppy, but I need to be more aware of what’s going on. Especially when the waves become huge.
NEGATIVE 2
Autopilot settings. The autopilot struggled downwind in big seas. No surprise. I need to spend more time learning how it really works, so I can sail faster and still go to sleep. Then, the J/111 is a tough boat to drive in those conditions, even with a good helmsman.
NEGATIVE 3
J/111 as a solo boat. Coming back to the last point. The Class 40, Figaro 2, and SunFast 3300 are all designed for exactly what we’ve been doing. They love 24 knots on the beam and have twin rudders that give them all the grip they need. The J/111 was designed for something completely different and I’m just stupid for racing it like this.
Friday, June 2:nd 11:00 EDT, Bermuda 1-2 starts in Newport.
630 nm to Bermuda, across the Gulf Stream, solo. Will probably take 4 days. Feels like a pretty big challenge to me, as I’ve never raced here and this is the longest solo race I’ve done, Weather is still uncertain, but it is what it is.
My goal is to finish. And not screw things up. And see if I enjoy this type of racing or not,
Some fast boats in Class 1. PHRF = rating in seconds per mile (so I should be 2 seconds faster per mile than Abilyn * 630 = 21 minutes.
For some reason, I got the One-Design rating for J/111 despite having a jib that’s just 80% of the area, shorter sprit, less roach in the main, etc. ORC rates me 2.4% slower which would be about 2 hours 20 minutes. But who cares.
