Captains log: Mutiny on Solis

Date: July 11, 2022

Time: 16:03

Location:29.50.442N / 131.47.007

I woke up this morning (good morning for me is around 11AM) and was quickly informed by all the crew that there's a small mutiny. It's around my sleeping schedule. As I think I've somewhat meticulously conveyed in this blog, we have a set schedule. For the first 4 days I put myself into what I thought was the most challenging sleep role (on watch from 00:00-06:00) in order to make 100% that out of the gate and in the beginning stages I would carefully monitor what I thought would be our most challenging times: night. Even in retrospect the thinking I had is quite sound, however there are a few other factors that I did not consider. The biggest factor is prior to the race departure, I spent almost 5 weeks living on my boat preparing for our trip. Throughout June, I worked nearly round the clock and found myself elbow deep in grease cranking wrenches and installing bilge pumps at nearly midnight on multiple occasions. As for the last 5 days before leaving, I found myself not sleeping well at all. Probably a combination of anxiety regarding preparation and excitement about the journey that lay just days away from me. The night prior to departure I slept about 3.5 hours, went straight through, pulled my night shift, then repeated that for about a week. 

The crew however have been handling the shifts remarkably well. Given the shift, I think that not only does Joe have by far the hardest shift, but he has an incredible attitude, is alert, on point and ready to competently handle any task at hand. Some of the more nerve racking, but quite exhilarating jobs, is going onto the foredeck at night with a headlamp to handle any task that might be required. Joe is quick to handle these during his night shift and his efforts are well recognized and appreciated by all of the crew. 

But apparently my personal fatigue which has built over the last month and most certainly in the last week since departure, has become apparently and of some concern. The concern which was conveyed was that I have by far the most experience, so if at a moments notice the crew needs me for a squall or other time critical actions, I'm not at my best. I am also doing the navigating, so if I'm overly fatigued or not available all day, the crew is concerned about decision making in regards to coarse heading regarding the wind. On that quick side note, I have been sharing and openly discussing my navigation strategy with the crew so that we all feel confident and on-board with our challenges in navigating this challenging no-wind situation. So, I said mutiny, but it's of a different sort. The crew proposed to me a new rotation schedule which they came up with and strongly asked for my stamp of approval. The proposal was as follows:

Darshaun:06:00-22:00

Joe:22:00-06:00

Gene:22:00-02:00

Nick:02:00-06:00

I'm comfortable handling the boat on my own, so from 06:00~ I might be on my own for a while. It's been made clear, and should be obvious without even discussing, that if I'm on deck alone and need help, someone will quick come to my aid. If alls well, then either Gene or Nick will surely be up and about before long to help out. Conversely, it's been discussed that I'll obviously be rested and alert and be ready to jump out of my bunk at 02:00 or anytime during the night should such a situation arise. 

My personal psychology unfortunately challenges me with this situation because I feel I'm not standing toe-to toe with my crew pulling the hard night shifts, but I do understand their growing concerns and perspective. They want a captain who's wide awake, alert and ready to make clear minded decisions at all times. My appreciation to the crew for them to be willing to pull these hard shifts is heartfelt. 

Regarding navigation, because all the discussions and display of weather reports has constantly been a group discussion, the crew conveyed to me their satisfaction in the routes we've chosen. Because we've bobbed around in no wind for days on end, I of course second guess some of the decisions. Any doubt by this emotion I had was quickly tempered once Joe read off the daily race report email that we receive from the organizers. Nearly all the boats are hemming and hawing about the lack of wind and emotional challenges of just sitting there bobbing around on the ocean.  The simple difference is that we're surrounded by F1 style race boats who are much faster than us in escaping low wind situations, while we tend to get stuck due to our exacerbated under-performance in light wind conditions. 

Since we're on the topic of winds, last night was, shall I say, brutal. Not in terms of holding on for deal life, but mentally holding on for deal life as we sat there bobbing around in no wind. Boat speed was around 1.5 knts. Plotter once again suggesting we will arrive in Hawaii in about two months from now at this pace. This was in stark comparison to the incredible winds and seas we had yesterday where we are rocketing towards Hawaii at nearly 7knts with our teeter totter in the front bucking up and down at 10 foot increments. The pain of no-wind continued today until about 1pm. I finally rose from my slumber and almost in a way, the crew asked me to do something about it! I usually fake it by saying, trim this sail or trim that sheet so it looks like this magical 3 inch trim of the sails is going to somehow solve a no-wind situation. But when I got up I think it was Nick who said, lets do something, anything, like fly the spinnaker! Quickly it was all hands on deck. Each man to his station. Raising the spinnaker on this boat is no easy task. The pole is 19 feet long and weighs roughly 90 lbs. It is strapped to the deck so each time we raise it each person has a role. Joe is on the helm steering. Gene is in the cockpit ready to bring in the sheets (the lines that hold the sail), while Nick and I are up on the foredeck man-handling this beast of a pole and also raising this enormous spinnaker sail. We estimated that the spinnaker alone is bigger than all of our sails put together. It's huge. Upon todays deployment however, it did little. With wind speeds of around 2 knts, it essentially just flopped around. But since we went through the difficult process of raising it, we left it out to just flop upon itself, reminding us of how little wind there. Of course this is in stark contrast to the incredible one day of sailing we had yesterday where we rocketed across the sea, bucking and rolling across the waves. 

To mend our depression, Gene whipped up a lunch which ended up having him lathered in "Gene this is amazing" comments for an hour. Lunch was comprised of a mixed veggie salad (with a shout-out to my wife for the delicious sun-dried tomatoes she made from our garden) with some kind of balsamic sauce, then tuna-melt quesadia's(sp?) with chipotle sauce. We also realized yesterday was Genes Birthday, so Nick and Joe decided to throw him a surprise birthday party. I got the invite at the last minute as I was on a trip to the foredeck when they were doing their planning. Master-chef Joe took about 5 oreos, made a circle on a plate, then stuck in several match sticks on fire. I hollered "fire" which I probably should not have done, since it nearly caused Genes heart to jump out of his chest. Not the kind of "Surprise" he was expecting for his birthday. We sang to him then quickly devoured the treats. 

Nick said he's not read so many books in such a short span in years. Joe brought a TV series which he seems to be able to watch a little bit each day. Gene is re-reading the book Dove. Everytime I try and read I get sleepy so I've made it through the foreword of about 3 books thus far. Even when Nick is deep into a book, at the hint of work to be done on deck to trim sails, drop or raise a spinnaker, he bounces up and is there to champion any effort. 

We're now purposely making our way further south of a direct route to Hawaii because forecasts are once again calling for extremely light winds on Wednesday, right over what would be a direct path to our destination. By going south we should continue to get closer to the trade winds which are a sure way to ensure continuous sailing all the way to our destination. 

Our water rationing system is going remarkably well. We went from what looked like 6.5 gallons per day to now holding steady at about 2.5 gallons per day. Strictly washing all dishes only in salt water may have been the key to our new humble pace of consumption. 

Our navigation plotter wildly swings from saying we will arrive in 8 days from now, to 15 days from now to at times 45 days from now. Keep praying, meditating, sending good thoughts and vibes our way for winds of 15+ so that we can get ourselves in before the evening of the 22nd Pac-Cup awards ceremony so we can collect our commemorative clocks!

For now we're making good headway in the right direction with gentle seas.

Until tomorrow!