Over the past few days in particular, probably the most anticipated events on the boat each day were the 06:00 and the 18:00 fleet position updates in relation to String Theory's position (calculated by Gunnar). String Theory has been in a neck and neck race against several other boats for a podium finish, both within its division and overall and each update brings news of either String Theory making gains or losing ground against the other boats.  Regardless of the news, discussion will be had about what went well over the last 12 hours and what should be done differently, if anything, going forward. An underlying tension in each discussion is the age old question all competitors face “Do you push things a little harder or do you change your tactics to be a little more conservative so you don't risk losing what you have?”  The race is so close that we're certainly not in a position to have any major hick-ups; to do so would virtually guarantee we'd lose any chance of a podium finish.

One of the side effects of this discussion has been the increased focus of the crew to make sure that: we're checking the halyards and sheets for signs of chaffing, checking the sail trim more frequently, taking a more active approach to our preparation for approaching squalls, more thought about what sails to use (particularly during the night watches), more focus on driving the boat, more talk and thought about what to do should something go wrong (such as what steps to take to help stop a broach from happening), etc. Not that we were casual or complacent about these things before – we certainly weren't – but unlike before, it is now much easier to comprehend why this constant, focused attention to detail really matters during a 2308 NM race (this is the rumb line distance, actual distance traveled is much longer). Each 06:00 and 18:00 update provides immediate feedback on why these things matter. Even as this is being written, a redoubling of the effort to check that we're doing everything we can to eek every last bit of speed out of the boat is actively underway because we're ~2 hours short of potentially finishing ahead of one competitor and we have only ~100 NM to make-up this time.

At the same time as the 06:00 and 18:00 position updates, Gunnar provides an update on the latest weather forecast and the effect on Hal's estimated time and distance remaining for String Theory to reach the channel that leads to the finish line. Each of these updates brings with it an interesting dichotomy; against all measures team String Theory is on the verge of meeting or exceeding most of the goals and stretch goals we set for ourselves before we started the race, except for one – to complete the race in under 14 days (elapsed time). Each update brings news that the estimated time to finish keeps getting pushed back.  So much so now that the latest time slot available in the team pool (created the evening of the halfway dinner) for the estimated finish time – 8 to 10 hours after Hal's estimated time for entering the channel –  is now at least two hours too optimistic (Hal estimated that we'd be there by 08:34 July 19; instead we were still about 120 NM out at that time).

Fortunately, not completing the race in under 14 days wasn't due to any mistakes on our part. It was entirely due to Mother Nature and what she did (or did not do) with the wind – as evident by the fact that all boats this year are taking longer than usual/expected. It is still a little surprising to some of the crew members who have competed in one or more previous Vic-Maui's that this particular race may turn out to be the one that has taken them the longest yet...  And the later than expected arrival time does come with some extra strong motivation for the crew to make sure everything is done to ensure it doesn't slip anymore – and it is regardless of any motivation we may have to end up with a strong podium finish – it is as simple as we're down to the last roll of toilet paper!

P.S. Day 15 – Land Ho (Even Though We Couldn't Actually See Land)

Figuring the Race to the Finish would be a busy one and that there wouldn't be time to write a blog entry once we landed in Lahaina (which has proven to be the case; so I apologize for this very late entry), I had prepared the blog entry for the end of the race with all but the paragraph describing our “Land Ho” sighting of Maui and Molokai on our way into the finish line. I had the fullest of intention of sending the blog off once that update had been completed so everyone could hear how our last day went as we were experienced it ourselves. But as the saying going, sometimes the best of intentions don't quite work as intended. It has taken until today to find both the time and an internet connection. Rather than rewriting history, I'll update the last blog entry via this P.S.

 It was expected that Top Gun Watch would be the one on duty at the first sighting of the Hawaiian Islands at ~40 NM out. But not surprisingly - with the combination of the heat, the excitement of being in a race to the finish, and the anticipation of being back on dry land where our family and friends were waiting - Black Watch, unable to sleep, was also milling about both below and on deck for the noon to 18:00 watch. While the day started out sunny and reasonably clear with our usual 15 to 20 knot winds, as we progressed towards Maui, the sky grew increasingly overcast. Around the time we figured we should have been able to spot land, ~16:30 or so, the Hawaiian Islands were completed obscured by low lying grey clouds.

The intent was to send out the blog entry with the 17:00 Roll Call but by 17:00 we still couldn't see any sign of the Hawaiian Islands – despite being about ~35 NM out. It was just as well because at that particular moment our internet email service provider decided that it wasn't going to receive or send emails. The sea state and wind had started to pick up a bit as well but we weren't too concerned as we assumed what we were sailing into ahead was just another squall; albeit clearly a larger one then we'd seen thus far (gleefully pointed out by Top Gun Watch as it was expected to hit just as Black Watch was to take over the next watch).

As part of our continued effort to make up the 2 hours needed to finish ahead of one of our competitors, we put up the S3 spinnaker during the watch change to take advantage of the wind shift the squall was causing (we gained a 2 knot speed boost as a result). Also, due to the problem we were experiencing with the email service at watch change, it was more important than usual for us to monitor the single side band SSB radio Roll Call from 18:00 to 18:30. We needed to radio in our update and ETA to the finish line (we're penalized time if we don't make Roll Call and the ETA to the finish line is a mandatory requirement spelled out in the sailing instructions (race rules)). It was during the Roll Call that we heard our first hint of what was to come with an update from Kenetic about a tropical depression that had originated off the Mexican Baha peninsula and was now heading up the east coast of Hawaii.

Don had the first hour at the helm and it was clear by the expression on his face and the way the boat was moving, he was having a blast and we were rocketing along (as Don describes it). The squall had hit by now so it was raining, the sea state had continued to increase and become more confused and the winds had continued to pick up. Tim took over at 19:00 and had pretty much the exact same expression on his face as Don. By this time, we were within 25 NM of the Hawaiian coast (the islands of Maui and Molokai) – and at another mandatory call-in point as part of the sailing instructions – but we still could not see the coast; there was nothing but dark grey clouds in front of us, right down to sea level.

Shortly after Tim took over and after three attempts in a row by both the wind and the waves hitting us just aft of broad side (about the worst angle to be hitting us)  to round us up (i.e. broach), it was clear it was time to switch from the spinnaker to the #3 jib (our smallest foresail). This was a completely necessary move for safety reasons – not to mention for more mundane practical reasons such as the desire to save the spinnaker from shredding and the rig (mast, fore stay, back stay, shrouds, etc.) and the boat itself from damage but disappointing nonetheless because we were really moving at this point; 11 to 13 knots sustained with peaks over 14.

We were pleasantly surprised to see that the sustained boat speed was still about 10 knots (with peaks to 12) given the small size of the foresail, although with winds now peaking about 35 knots perhaps it wasn't that surprising. (I should mention at this point that the apparent wind angle – the wind the boat actually experiences – was only ~15 to 20 knots because of the angle the boat was traveling on with respect to the wind direction so we were well within the capability of the sail). With the sea state up even more, Tim was able to catch the odd surf which provided momentary speed boosts to boot although he was starting to spend more and more of his time working just to keep the boat on course. The large waves hitting us from just aft of broad side were hitting more frequently causing the boat to both try to round up and to heave from side to side. It was also around this time that we'd heard via the VHF radio that one of our competitors ahead of us had been called by the Coast Guard to assist with a dismasting (we assumed that the boat was part of the Pacific Cup race fleet that was crossing our course on their way to Honolulu).

It was dusk by the time the #3 went up and by then we were within ~5 NM from the Hawaiian coast, We still could not see land, just really dark grey clouds (almost black). Even so, shortly thereafter the shout went out – Land Ho – at about 20:15, not because any of us had actually sighted land, but because a light from a navigational aid on the coast of Molokai had been spotted. The visibility was such that we were sailing by compass and chart plotter alone; there wasn't a chance of actually seeing anything of use in front of us; even the light from the navigational aid was just a light glowing in the cloud.

By the time we could see the light on the traffic separation channel marker at the entrance to the Pailolo Channel between Maui and Molokai, we had basically given up on the notion of actually “sighting land”. We could now see the dim glow of city lights on Maui reflecting off of the clouds which would put us at the equivalent distance from “land” as one would be if they were about to sail into English Bay from the Straight of Georgia. The dim lighting from the city lights did provide us with one useful bit of information though - they back-lit a new set of clouds, very black, very low lying, and with a very flat bottom, directly in front of us.

These particular clouds certainly weren't a sign of smoother sailing ahead and, of course, by now we knew we weren’t in a squall but a full blown storm. The clouds ahead signaled that the storm was about to get worse. In addition to the wind, the really confused sea state and the rain, we were also being treated to a lightning show in front of us as we approached the channel (which perhaps should have been unnerving because we were, after all, sitting in a boat with a ~60 ft metal pole sticking up in the air). Time to be proactive and put a reef in the main (or in this case, we decided to go straight to two). However, just to make things interesting, given we were about to enter a channel with reefs on either side and we were now in a sea state with waves so high (~15 ft) and confused that maneuvering the boat head to wind wasn't an option, we set out putting in a double reef in the main with the boom still out as far as it could go on the starboard side (i.e fully powered up).

Excellent teamwork by all carried the day and the main sail reefs went in about as smoothly as they could have, just in time before the worst of the storm hit. And being still in full race mode – now only about 15 NM from the finish line –  it was more important to maintain 9 to10 knots of boat speed than focus on the storm, despite the crazy sea state and continued hits by large waves just aft of beam.  That was, after all, largely Tim’s problem and he wasn’t complaining (although none of us asked if he was just too busy to complain as he swung the helm from one side to the other side and back again, but that’s a minor detail (ok, I’m kidding, we did ask multiple times but each time it was a simple “I’m ok” or “I’m good”).

As we passed through the storm and into the channel the sea state calmed down almost immediately, the rain stopped, and the wind died down. At this point we could clearly (finally) see the lights, buildings, and even car headlights on eastern shores of Maui. Boat speed was still about 7 to 8 knots; still quite fast given the small sail area we had up but the comments made by more than one of us was that after days of 9 to 10 knot speed on average and 10s to 14s for the last few hours it seemed really slow (in English Bay, you'd be really happy with 7 to 8 knots of speed with a full main and your largest genoa).

The wind continued to drop to the point that we were getting concerned. With a double reef in the main and only a #3 headsail up, there wasn't a lot of sail area to catch the rapidly dying wind. However, the storm was still clearly visible behind us – lightening and all – and the risk was we'd shake out the reefs just in time for the storm to catch back up to us. With boat and wind speed still dropping as we continued deeper into the channel and with the finish line only about 3 NM away (about 40 minutes away at the speed we were presently going at) it was clear that the storm was likely staying put at the entrance to the channel.

The mail sail reefs came out just in time for the wind to continue to drop. Boat speed was still about 5 to 6 knots, but now it felt like we were ghosting along as the wind was light (or more specifically felt light because it was coming almost from behind us) and the sea was basically flat. This particular situation, one of the wind appearing to be about to die to nothing and being within sight of the finish line, brought up memories of 2012 Vic Maui race for those crew members on Team String Theory who were in that race and were stuck for over 3 hours at this very point; often moving backwards because there wasn't enough wind for the boat to overcome the opposing current. Not a pleasant thought and not a moment anyone wanted to relive.

Fortunately, as we were making moves to put the genoa back up, the wind picked up a little – really more a series of light puffs – just enough to keep the boat moving at anywhere from 4 to 8 knots and across the finish line at 22:15:44 HST. What a way to end the race, both with the last few hours having the strongest winds and worst sea state we saw the whole trip and with us basically ghosting across the finish line not more than an hour after passing through the storm. What a memorable and dramatic finish to a fantastic two weeks of racing with Team String Theory!

And just when you think there couldn’t be more to the story, Team String Theory was treated to an absolutely amazing reception at dock side by our Lahaina greeting party. The lays we and the boat were adorned with were beautiful, and there was an absolutely huge selection of home cooked food at the party: BBQ ribs, pulled pork, spaghetti with Italian sausage sauce, boiled eggs cut in half complete with a toothpick mainsail with String Theory printed on the sail, and I could go on – three table’s worth of food and drinks to choose from actually – all of it fantastic (boy did we wish had skipped our dinner earlier and brought more of an appetite then we did). The String Theory welcome poster was a particularly special touch as it was hand painted and quite beautiful. Team String Theory would like to send out a special thank you to our greeting party. Such a wonderful welcome, complete with all of the personal touches, made a memorable race just all that more memorable and special.

Of course, by now you've probably heard through the Vic Maui website blog or from friends or family that the “squall” we passed through was actually tropical depression Wally. Our competitor, who we thought was heading out to help a dismasted boat, was actually the boat that had been dismasted. To their credit not only did everyone on their boat escape without injury; they were able to jury-rig a sail and enter port under their own power, crossing the finish line at a respectable 4.5 knots or so, taking line honours for second division. Fantastic seamanship on their part given they only had a third of their mast left. And from reports we heard the following day from boats still competing, we figure we made it into the channel before the worst of the storm actually hit. One boat saw wind gusts up to 60 knots at the top of the mast; we only saw 42 knots. Another boat reported that it blew out its mainsail. And at one point they were also surrounded 360 degrees by lightning strikes and even had a corona discharge occur on the boat (basically one level below being hit by lightning). Quite the storm!

What is important to record in this blog is that there are two people Team String Theory owes a tremendous debt of gratitude to: John (Mort) and Marie.  John and Marie are why Team String Theory exists and a huge component of why Team String Theory has exceeded the goals it set for itself. While it took a team effort to sail String Theory from Victoria to Maui, without John and Marie first providing a competitive boat for us to sail (String Theory herself), the 1000s of combined hours John and Marie spent: preparing her for the race (proactive maintenance, modifications, upgrades, additions, participating in various race committee inspections), working out the cabin logistics and its organization for 9 people, provisions for 18 days (again, we're all quite sure we're been the best fed crew in the Vic-Maui race), and all of the other planning, logistics, blood, sweat, stress and tears that goes with preparing a boat and putting a race team together for a 15 day race across the Pacific, we would have never even made it off of the dock.  Please accept a heartfelt thank you from all of the Team String Theory crew members for all that you've both done for us.

And on a more personal note, Mort has been heard multiple times on this trip saying that one of the key motivations behind all of the effort he has put into making this race happen for Team String Theory (including providing String Theory herself) is simply so that he can share the experience with the good company of others; otherwise what's the point?  Well, without hesitation, I can say that all of the members of Team String Theory consider themselves very fortunate to have been able to spend the last two weeks as Mort's crew (company); we couldn't have had a better Skipper (and host) at the helm of Team String Theory.

Signed: Before Attempting New Activities Nay Adventures Bring Real Energy And Determination

P.P.S. – The signatures at the end of each blog entry are an anagram of “Banana Bread.” This is a play on a PACE (Plan, Assess, Communicate, Execute) anagram label maker sign that was made up and stuck to the bulkhead over top of the door to the forward state room the day before we left Victoria. By accident, when Marie went to make the PACE label, she hit print instead of clear which caused the last thing in the print queue to print: “Banana Bread.” We didn't feel this label should be wasted so we stuck it up over top of the door to the aft head and challenged the crew to come up with inspiring Banana Bread anagrams. As this blog is a team blog with contributions made by all team members, the various Banana Bread anagrams the team came up with seemed like a natural choice for signing off each blog entry.

A Random Collection of Quotes and Thoughts From The Last Two Weeks (in no particular order):

  a.. "You're high, turn down. You're low, head up. You're high, turn down, You're low, head up." continuously repeated during an entire watch, no matter who's at the wheel.

  b.. What the heck are you doing? Heard instead of "You're high, turn down. You're low, turn up" when we're not beating to the wind.

  c.. Often offered up as a condolence by another crew member when you're suddenly off course for no apparent reason or just slammed the boat down after going over a large wave: "It was that one rogue wave that got you" OR a variation thereof "Honestly, it is not my fault; it was a rogue wave that caused X to happen" if you're not offered up any condolences by your skeptical teammates.

  d.. After days and days and days with nothing to see on the horizon, it is amazing how much excitement a deep sea vessel sighting generates; particularly when it is bearing down on you at 18 knots and only 32 NM out.

  e.. Hove to yesterday to allow Dave to do a little fishing and to take a shower and shave. We miss Dave.

  f.. Becalmed with all sails flying, forced by wave action and no wind into an involuntary 360 degree circle, all the while with a very slowly passing freighter watching us, no doubt with much mirth.

  g.. "Sailing Nirvana" def'n: Blue skies, good wind, and good company.

  h.. Do you want to go fast or do you want to get to Hawaii? You can't have both.

  i.. South Korea is beautiful this time of year (often uttered by Dave when he's off course).

  j.. Drive it like a stolen rental (usually, but not always, said when the Skipper is out of earshot).

  k.. Often said by John when we need some good luck with the weather "Better pray to all of my dead relatives for wind."

  l.. "Ye Haw! Ride'em cowboy" commonly heard exclaimed from John when he's at the helm and the boat is suddenly accelerating and/or racing along.

  m.. "Who is Jimmy Buffet? He's a singer?" asked the second youngest member of the team... Let the age related jokes begin.

  n.. Jeff: "I can amputate that for you." or "I'm afraid we're going to have to amputate."or "I'll amputate that if you break it."

  o.. Said by Les after sitting through a squall on their watch "Why does Black Watch gets all of the sunshine?" Gunnar "That's ok, we'll settle for getting all of the miles."

  p.. Without exception, Top Gun Watch will say this to the Black Watch when Black Watch comes "on deck": "The new course is 10 degrees higher (when we're sailing up wind) or the new course is 10 degrees lower (when we're sailing downwind)."

  q.. We hope our competitors do well... Just not as well as us.

  r.. Delirious from lack of sleep, Top Gun Watch thinks the helm squeak is talking to them.

  s.. Quote from Mike: "String Theory smells like a tropical rain forest gym bag."

  t.. Hal: Don't touch that, Dave. Hal: Dave, what are you doing?

  u.. Aaawhhh. Do we have to tack now? The head works so much better on this tack.

  v.. Said by Mike about Les' snoring: "It sounds like a bullfrog stuck in the bilge pump."

  w.. One of life's simple pleasures on a two week race: fresh underwear day.

  x.. It's funny that such a simple thing as making tea is so difficult on a sailboat.

  a.. Les: "I never ever snore if I'm on my side, ever." Mike: "Let me present exhibit a) (Mike takes out his iPhone and plays back a recording of Les snoring for everyone on deck) Don't you guys think this is where cartoons get their snoring sound effects from?" We laughed so hard we were were almost in tears...

  a.. It is interesting how the imagination of at first Les, then eight other guys at 10:00 at night during a watch change 10 days into a race, can find such amusement in a moonlight Bullwinkle-shaped shadow on the mainsail.

  b.. Jeff about his winch handle: "My precious. One winch handle to rule them all."

  c.. Ingredients for THE BEST sandwich of the trip (created by Mike): Mayo, mustard, avocado, green onions, pickles, coleslaw, tomatoes, black forest ham and jack cheese.

  d.. Backup navigation system to Hal for the last leg of the trip (~800 NM, ~190 degrees magnetic): the useability of the flush part of the head is directly related to the heel of the boat and therefore the angle of the boat to the wind; if you can flush, you're not on course.

  e.. Please take note, the crew of String Theory is very charitable, so charitable, that we've all started to grow our Movember beards in July.

  f.. The first sign we're getting close to Hawaii, all of the contrails overhead converge on our destination.

  g.. New String Theory sail names: Asymmetrical A0 = Mr. Ed, Spinnaker S4 with the red stripe = Lion Heart, Spinnaker S3 with it's blue stripe = Aqua Man.

  h.. Best fed crew EVER with no doubt.

  i.. Albatross! Albatross! For Christ sake Albatross! Do you get wafers with it? Of course you don't get wafers with it. It's Albatross. It's a sea bird.

  j.. I'm here for my cameo shot now that all the work has been done (as a crew member sticks his head up through the companion way hatch just after the rest of the crew completed two back to back sail changes).

  k.. "Revenge is best served by squalls" Top Gun's on-going punishment for giving Black Watch slower course headings.

  l.. Heard on a moonless and starless night: "Night sailing is like sailing into the abyss on nothing but blind faith... What a rush!"

  m.. Observation made by Jeff about the "bed" he sleeps on: two symmetrical spinnakers and an A0: "This is unequivocally the most luxurious and expensive bed I have ever slept on."

  n.. And an all time classic, first said (but repeated many times thereafter) when we cast off the last dock line in Victoria "Are we there yet?"

Signed: Because Adventurously New And Noteworthy Actions Beget Rare Exceptionally Admirable Deeds AND Bewildering Aneroids Never Allow Necessary Analysis But Rarely Ever Are Determinative

With the more northerly course String Theory has been taking compared to previous races, the timing of the warmer days and evenings has been much delayed. But the last few days have been getting increasingly hotter with the southward turn toward the finish line and to (hopefully) a great finish in Maui. We're driving like sailors possessed knowing that the drag race to the finish is on. This race is going to be down to the wire in our division and we're driving hard for the win!

The hot weather brings with it squalls and the biggest management issue today has been dealing with them. It's an interesting phenomenon that occurs when a squall approaches. If it passes ahead of you as it is discharging,
the wind tends to be lighter and it slows you down but if it passes behind you, then hang on! The wind can violently increase as the rain collapses from the heated column of energy storage, aka squall. Not only can you be in for a wild wind ride, but you'll likely also get a good dowsing of rain. The Black Watch has been somewhat more fortunate than Top Gun Watch in not getting quite so wet but have not been left completely unscathed. Free
showers at last!

Of course, heavy rainfall and heavy seas means the boat is battened down tight. Hatches and ports are closed creating a lovely, spa-like atmosphere below as wet sails, hot bodies and a closed environment combine. The unique aroma of nine sweaty guys crammed into an overheated cabin is now pleasantly punctuated by the fragrant smell of coconut and other lovely sunscreen scent options. The effects of the hot weather is more pronounced when sailing downwind on a spinnaker run as the lovely cross breeze is gone. All we need is a snowbank to jump into after this sauna and the Swedes would have nothing on us! The sea temperature has also been climbing and at last check was a beautiful 77 degrees F. If we weren't going so darned fast we'd all be
jumping in for a refreshing swim.

And to say that sleep in the heat is challenging would be an understatement. One of the end results has been more interaction between the two teams as people on the off watch linger longer up on deck at the end of their shift or people on the in-coming crew come up early for their watch. When the weather was cooler (or downright cold at night near the beginning), people didn't linger or come up early for a watch; it was all about staying warm and/or getting as much sleep as possible.

And even when an off watch crew does eventually go below for food or an attempt at sleep, different heads will occasionally pop up through the companionway hatch for a blast of cool air, resembling a bunch of gophers
popping their heads out of their holes. But eventually tiredness overtakes discomfort and an hour or two of snoring begins.

Halyard and sail management have been crucial when driving through squalls. Chaffing on the halyards on long spinnaker runs has to be carefully managed and so far we've been able to maintain pace and not chew through a
halyard yet (knock on wood). But we haven't escaped completely unscathed. On a spinnaker take-down today, the spin halyard got jammed in the spectacle plate about four feet down from the top of the mast. The outer sheath of the halyard had chaffed through and then scrunched up into a ball when it passed through the spectacle plate as the spin was being lowered. The end result was a spinnaker that was stuck at almost a full hoist position but otherwise all other preparations has been made to drop the spinnaker (pole forward and down, #1 genoa up, etc).

After quickly running through options, it was decided to try to let the wind do the work to free the halyard. The spin pole was raised again to allow the spin to fly somewhat properly (the genoa was still up at this point) but
unfortunately the halyard didn't work free so we decided more pressure was required. The genoa was dropped and the spin was set as best as possible to allow the full force of the wind to pull on the halyard. After about two
minutes or so - just enough time to have preparations begin for plan B which was to send someone up the mast - we all heard the popping sound of a line suddenly going taught and the halyard worked free; what a relief! So 
immediately up went the genoa again and down came the spin. And wouldn't you know it, just as we were getting ready to pack the spin the wind came up suddenly which left us with no choice but to get the smaller (#3) jib set up and hoisted to replace the genoa. It was a very busy hour for all; particularly the foredeck crew.

Also on the to-do list for today, our top notch medical team performed a minor podiatry treatment on the skipper's right big toe. Sadly, the much anticipated amputation was postponed and will be unlikely on this voyage. Jeff still looks forward to the idea of detaching someone's small digit before race end. This is particularly troubling since the entire medical team has a combined depth of experience of more than fifteen hours, none of which includes actually treating people. The good news is that the skipper has made a full recovery and has agreed to write a personal testimonial for Les and Jeff's new (unaccredited) "offshore" medical clinic. Look for further information in your favorite sailing mag."

Flying fish are now abundant and we see them leaping and cavorting like so many little silvery-blue hummingbirds across the waves. A few have been misdirected in their leaps and have landed aboard. If we see them in time we
can toss them back but I'm sad to report the untimely demise of at least one of these little beauties who was transformed into a fish chip as he dried in the sun before being spotted.

On top of all things, though, is the drive to win. We've been running hard and 225+ NM days are not uncommon in an all out effort to fend off our competitors. The HAL9000 Mk II appears to have tirelessly positioned String
Theory into a perfect course directly for Maui through all of this. We all look forward to the sunny shores of the island within a couple of days. The contrails and lights from the planes overhead carrying our loved ones to the
island are like a beacon directing us in. Reminds me of just how close we're getting to the end of the race and our families, friends, fellow racers and the Lahaina Yacht Club. ALOHA!

Signed: Being As Nobody Asks Nicely Anymore Benefits Rarely Extend Above Deck.

P.S. We saw the plane to Maui that a number of our family members were on
today. It flew right overhead of us at about 20:45 HST when we were ~450 NM
out. Did you see us?

Yet another unusual aspect of this Vic-Maui race is that for the entire two weeks there has been moonlight. As we were heading up the Juan de Fuca Strait, a new moon was starting to appear. By the time we reach Hawaii, the moon will have almost finished making a nightly appearance. None of the crew members who have competed in a past Vic-Maui can remember a time where the moon has been with the fleet for the entire trip. It has made for consistently easier driving conditions at night because there has almost always been at least some level of ambient light in the background (more on this in a minute). I can think of only one time in the entire two weeks when we haven't been able to see the front of the boat; for the remainder of the time so far, the visual limit has been far in front.

As with the sunrises and sunsets, moon rises and moon sets are much more spectacular when you're in the middle of the ocean as compared to watching from land. On a clear night, the moon is so bright that it is like having a flood light pointed on the ocean. But in many respects, the more interesting shows put on by the moon have occurred when there have been clouds in the sky. As with the sunrises and sunsets, the moon and the
clouds at the horizon line will display a range of reds and oranges as the moon first breaks above or dips below the horizon.

If the sky overhead is partially overcast, as the moon continues to rise, it will back-light the clouds which makes the clouds and their different shapes and features really stand out. When the moon goes behind a cloud the change in the light level is quite pronounced; it feels like someone has quickly dimmed the lights in a room. When the sky is completely overcast with high altitude clouds and with the moon completely hidden in behind them, because these types of high altitude clouds reflect the moonlight, it is actually a bit brighter than usual; the entire 360 degree horizon is evenly lit (usually the horizon opposite the moon is fairly dark).

The highlight of one particular night watch, for both crew watches, occurred when there were several low lying squall clouds in front of us but the sky itself behind them was otherwise crystal clear. The way the moon back-lit
these clouds created an optical illusion that made it look like they were 3D images superimposed on a star-filled sky in the background. They simply didn't look like they were real.

Now that the moon is waxing, it isn't rising until a few hours after night fall. If the sky overhead is clear, you'll be treated to a sky chockablock full of stars; so much so that they, themselves, provide enough light to see a long way ahead of you. This is what, I'm told, the typical night conditions the crew is used to sailing in during previous Vic-Maui's. But of course, the stars simply don't provide as much light as the moon so when clouds do roll in, or when the sky is overcast, the ambient light become almost negligible and it is at these times you don't even have enough light to see as far as the front of the boat. So the only way to sail the boat is by the feel of the wind and wave action, the feel of the pressure on the helm (via the rudder) and by using the binnacle compass in front of the
helm. Perhaps the best way to illustrate what it is like driving a boat under these conditions is to imagine driving down a straight but badly maintained, rolling prairie road on a starless night, with no lights, no power steering, and the only way you can tell if you're going in the right direction or when to apply the gas or brakes is by the feel of the car on the road and by the the rise and fall of the road as you drive over it.

And then throw in the added variable of the possibility of there being something in the water (or on the road) ahead of you. But on this point, I'm told that hazards floating in the water magically disappear at night; only to reappear in the morning... But just in case this isn't quite how it works, this is why all crew members sleep with their feet facing the bow of the boat. If you were to hit something, it's your feet and legs that absorb the forces, not your head and neck. As for squalls, however, they don't disappear at night so you have to be alert to the warning signs; a sudden, sometimes violent, change in the wind strength and direction and a drop in temperature. I'm told they have made for some very eventful evenings on past Vic-Maui's. This year, however, the few night time squalls that we've actually come across have been easy to spot so we've been able to prepare for them well in advance.

Driving at night with almost zero visibility occurred on only one of my team watches. But on a more typical Vic-Maui, there would be multiple nights with little to no visibility. One can get a sense of why the midnight grab-bags are an important and cherished tradition on the Vic-Maui; the sugar rush isn't just a guilty pleasure, it's
a necessity to help keep you energized through the watch.

Last night was the only night we've experienced a sky completely clear of clouds prior to the moon rise and it was truly spectacular. The Milky Way was clearly visible, Venus and Mars were out in full show, and shooting stars and fast moving satellites were easy to spot. It was like sitting in a giant planetarium with you in the dead centre and stars visible in all directions; right down to the horizon. Hopefully tonight will be a repeat galactic show.

Signed: Beware All Nautical Anomalies Naturally Appearing Being Really Eyeful Appears Diligent

Race report PS: For those that read our "Threading the Needle" blog entry, we are pleased to report that our navigational strategy appears to be paying dividends. Rumors of Gunner doing the funky chicken dance on the foredeck yelling "Who da man?! Who da man?!" are pure speculation and hearsay and officially denied.

One of the first enlightening moments that came to me the first day land and other boats were completely out of sight was that you can literally see the curvature of the earth in the horizon line. In fact, with nothing to see but
blue water for 360 degrees around you, from your perspective, it really feels like you're on top of the world. You can tell that you're at the top of a round object. Even the sky appears to be curved. The visual clue is the fact that the clouds get closer and closer to the horizon until at the horizon line the clouds form the backdrop, not because the clouds are lower in the sky, but because the sky follows the curvature of the earth.

Sunrises and sunsets are also a special treat; both because of what you get to see and because, with the watch schedule String Theory is on, you only get to see them every second day. While it is not uncommon to see a sunrise or a sunset that starts or ends in an ocean horizon the experience, in my opinion, is different when you're in the middle of the ocean. When there is literally nothing to block your view and no frame of reference, the second there is a hint of sunlight, the entire 360 degrees view around you lights up. And because there is zero light pollution, the time from the sunlight's first appearance (or disappearance) to the actual sunrise (or sunset) is  much longer and more gradual in duration than usual; about an hour and a half or so. The colours generated in the clouds at the horizon during this period range from vivid dark reds to light oranges. It is also much easier to pinpoint the exact moment the sun rises (or sets) above (or below) the horizon and you have a much better sense that the earth is actually rotating during the first 45 minutes or so as the sun rises or sets.

Another interesting thing to watch from hour to hour and from day to day is how the sea state changes, both by the way in which it can change and the rate. There are times when the sea has been flat as far the eye can see (or as flat as it'll ever get) to times when the boat will disappear in the trough of each swell. When the water is flat - or even when there is a relatively small amount of chop - it feels like being on any large lake or coastal sea; i.e normal/nothing special. But when the swell is up, the feeling is completely different. The really large swells are so large (the largest we experienced was a relatively small height at ~15 ft) they act like a fast moving hill which makes for an interesting brain teaser because these hills/mounds are made of water and water should be flat; it shouldn't be possible to have water form a large hill and yet when you look over the ocean when you're at the top of a large swell you see these large, fast moving hills for 360 degrees around you as far as the eye can see. Jeff's
visual description of these distant swells is that it looks similar to a herd of galloping horses.

The ride up to the top of the swell gives you a momentary bird's eye perspective of your surroundings; you're quite literally on top of a temporary hill in an otherwise flat desert. And watching the large waves come up from behind you, first completely blocking your view with a wall of water and then lifting the boat up to a peak and back down again is quite hypnotic; I'm told it is called the elevator ride.

As compared to previous Vic-Maui's, when the winds have been up for an extended period of time, the sea state this year is quite a bit more confused; the swells are not spaced very far apart, and less rhythmic. Swells have also been coming from one direction yet the chop from another, with the odd rogue, or series of rogue waves coming from yet another direction. It makes for some fun upwind (white sail) sailing but also a very rough ride for those below. From a practical point of view, it doesn't make for good race conditions as beating to the wind is slow. The Vic-Maui race is supposed to be a downwind (spinnaker) race and that's one of the key attractions for many who take part.

There has been a notable lack of sea life visible to us this year as compared to previous Vic-Maui's but never-theless there have been at least a few sightings of some of the key sea creatures. The course is somewhat
different this year with the location of the high pressure centres so that may be one of the reasons. Sightings of a lone albatross here and there, literally a thousand nautical miles from land, have occurred throughout the trip. Watching them glide along going from thermal to thermal and dipping down to skim a wave here and there is a relaxing way to pass the time as you sit on the high side of the boat during a watch. A white bird (about the size of a large seagull) with an orange bill and pointed tail feathers, called the "Tropic Bird" by the crew, has also made the occasional appearance as well as what we believe to be Swifts. Spotting flying fish is another way to pass the time. They started to appear occasionally on Day 6 but slightly more frequently as the trip has progressed. It is amazing how far they can skim or skip along the top of the water. And they've appeared in sizes ranging from about the size of a moth to slightly larger than a barn swallow. They also didn't disappoint in providing late night entertainment this year when one hit Richard in the chest in the middle of a night watch, startling everyone in the process and creating a great photo op, much to the fish's dismay no doubt.

Another unusual occurrence for this particular Vic-Maui is the lack of sighting of other boats, be it competing sailboats or deep sea vessels since the last of the fishing trawlers were seen off of the coast of Washington.
There have been only two deep sea vessel sightings thus far and no sightings of any competing boats. This has resulted in very long stretches where you're left with the feeling that you're the only one out there, but in my
opinion, this simply adds to the overall experience.

Today we got to experience our first few squalls which, again, is unusual both because of how late in the trip they have started to occur and because of how few there have been. The first squall was a relatively small one and
was quite localized. You could clearly see the affected patch of water below it; it was much flatter then the surrounding seas. Unfortunately we weren't able to get in front of it so we got caught in the lack of wind left behind
it as we approached. When we finally did catch up to it, because we only caught the tail end of it, the downdraft and accompanying rain we experienced when we entered it was minor. As we passed through it (or more
specifically, because of the lack of wind, as it passed over us), the patch of water underneath it appeared to be a much lighter blue to anyone wearing polarized glasses.

By the end of the day, we had experienced a few slightly more powerful/larger squalls - nothing wild to write home about. It makes for good practice executing quick sail drops and hoists from our relatively light wind,
asymmetrical A0 sail to our J1 Genoa and back again. We'll be quick at the sail changes should we need to do so in the future when facing more powerful ones. Hopefully we continue to experience unusually few squalls though, as they kill our boat speed for about an hour or hour and a half each time and we can't afford to have them do so. We'll see what tomorrow brings...

Signed: Behold: A Nautical Adventure Nearly Adjourned Becomes Really Exciting. Aloha, Dave!

String Theory is a 2001 47.7 First Beneteau, cruising/racer version. String Theory started out as Lilly in Seattle. John went down to look at Lilly after the 2012 Round the County race and as soon as he saw the boat, John was impressed with her - the way she had been looked after and all of the features/equipment on board. He was surprised by the number of spare parts the boat carried; there was even enough material to repair all of the cushions on the boat. It was generally in an above average condition.

A second boat located in San Diego, Magic, was also in the running at the time. Magic, too,  was a 47.7 First Beneteau but she was the racing version (deeper keel, taller rig; same model as Kinetic). Magic was three years
newer than Lilly, had less hours on the engine and a much larger complement of sails.

In the end, when John considered the value of Magic's extra sails (admittedly hard to do) and the benefits of being a newer, racier version to the excellent condition of Lilly and all of the features/equipment and spare parts that came with her, Lilly came out on top.

String Theory's name comes from John's love of quantum mechanics and his fascination with how the universe works. The term "String Theory" was defined by Brian Greene, a world renowned British physicist, as the "unified
consistent explanation of the universe." The renaming ceremony for String Theory took place in Roche Harbor during the Round the County race weekend in November, 2013. The ceremony began with a request to Poseidon, the "God of the Sea", to remove Lilly's name from his registry. He was given her metal nameplate to keep as an offering. The deity and his four brothers, the four wind gods, were then asked to bless String Theory, add her to  Poseidon's registry and finally, to grant her fair sailing throughout his domain. The offering of champagne - some at the ceremony say too much - was also made to Poseidon throughout the ceremony.

And the rest, as John said when telling this story, is history.

Signed: Banging About Nurtures A Nauseous Attitude, But Racers Easily Alter Disposition

 So -  if you've been wondering how the 9 people on Team String Theory came to be a team, the story goes something like this. The genesis of the team was formed for the 2010 Vic-Maui. Island Cruising, the company through which Don and Maggie charter out their sailboat, were looking to organize a race team for the Vic-Maui and use the event as a marketing opportunity. They had planned on providing the sailboat and the skipper and sell spots for the race crew. However, due to lack of interest, Island Cruising canceled their
plans.

Losing the Island Cruising entry was disappointing news to the Vic-Maui race organizers as there were only nine entries for the race that year and it was also problematic for Don, Tim and Les who had already put a deposit down and were still interested in going. Warren Hale (Hale), the owner of Turicum, was on the Vic-Maui race committee that year and offered to make his boat available for charter. Hale asked Gunnar to be the skipper. With that request, Gunnar, Don, Tim and Les - none of whom knew each other prior to the 2010 race, were the first four of the current nine, to do a Vic Maui together (2010).

Christof Marti, who had a co-operative business relationship with Hale for their respective sailing schools, was connected to the team through Hale and was to be part of the 2010 crew but had to back out for both personal and business reasons. Back for 2012, Christof and Gunnar looked into purchasing a racing sailboat and in doing so Gunnar knew that John was also looking to purchase a sailboat. Although John was primarily looking for a pleasure vessel, with some arm twisting, I'm told, he was willing to consider the potential of its use in the Vic-Maui. When a suitable boat at a reasonable price could not be found, Gunnar, Don, Christof, and John
decided to charter Turicum again. Dave was to be a member of the Turicum return crew for the 2012 Vic-Maui but was asked to join the race team instead (Dave still did the return with Turicum). This is how John and Dave
came to be part of the nine.

For the 2014 Vic-Maui, John, Gunnar, Don, Dave, Tim, and Les were looking for 4 additional crew members. Jeff, who had advertised his skills on the Vic-Maui crew bank list, met John at a Vic-Maui reception the week before
the Around the County race. When a String Theory crew member couldn't make it to the race at the last minute, John called Jeff, met him in Annacortes at 6:00 am race day morning. And with that, instead of joining Team Turicum, Jeff joined Team String Theory. Mike was recommended to John by Dave Sutcliffe, skipper of Kinetic. Richard, who was told of the opportunity to become a member of the return crew for String Theory by Christof, was asked to join the race team instead. Unfortunately the 10th String Theory crew member had to drop out because of personal reasons. Because a good fit for a Vic-Maui team is hard one to find, John decided not to try to find a replacement.

And that's the story of how Team String Theory became a team for the 2014 Vic Maui.

Signed: Banging About Never Any Nanosecond Break Really Exasperates and Drains

Marie Mortimer, Co-0wner of String Theory fills out the story details in her blog below:

Prior to 2012 Vic-Maui, John and Marie were contemplating buying a sailboat. Marie was dead set against buying a race boat, and was only interested in a cruising boat. While in Victoria, just prior to the 2012 Vic-Maui, Marie went onboard "Double Take", a J-145. for a tour given by Brad Baker of Swiftsure Yachts (he was navigator extraordinaire on Double Take for Vic-Maui 2012). It was love at first sight...with Double Take, not Brad...lol!

The die was cast, and following Vic-Maui 2012, Marie and John began in earnest to search for the perfect boat. Unable to afford Double Take, which Marie would still love to buy if the lottery comes up, the search was on for something that suited both racing and cruising. To cut a long story short, after much searching, Marie and John found their perfect boat....at of all places, Swiftsure Yachts, with Brad Baker! She was a Beneteau First 47.7...originally named "Lilly". When John and Marie first saw "Lilly"....she was a beauty, and they fell in love all over again. After much toing and froing, she finally became theirs in December 2012, and they moved her from Seattle, her first home, to Vancouver where she now resides...(most of the time when she's not sailing across the Pacific).
Her maiden voyage from Seattle to her new home in Vancouver is the stuff of legends...in 50-60 knots of wind, she proved her stuff (and so did her new owner/skipper John, his good friend and mentor/also navigator extraordinaire, Gunnar, and good friend and past Vic-Maui brother...Terry-Vic-Maui 2012). "Lilly" eventually became renamed as "String Theory", and that's yet another boat story.
On New Years Eve 2012, while spending time on their new boat with friends and co-conspirators.....Gunnar, Ede, Dave("Mastman" Vic-Maui 2012/2014), and Brenda, the plan was hatched for a potential Vic-Maui 2014....Marie and John were so excited to be planning this with such a great group of people.....little did they know what they were getting into! You have pretty much laid-out how the crew came to be...but even here, there are many more stories to tell, such are the ups and downs of the planning process. It is here, that I have to mention one very important person, who is a great driving force behind the Vic-Maui Race as a whole, and who at the beginning of this incredible journey, gave willingly and generously of his time to us as boat owners and potential Vic-Maui entrants, and by extension to our team as a whole....David Sutcliffe. This man is amazing not only for his energy and drive, but for his generosity and great sportsmanship...Thanks Dave for coming aboard String Theory, and showing us how it should be done!
Anyhow, after much blood, sweat, and tears over the last year, we are finally in it...going for broke west of the rhumbline...threading the needle between two highs....we are either going to be first place heros, or dead last...either way we will be happy for it is the journey that is the most important
                          "Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though
                           checkered by failure... than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy
                           nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor
                           defeat"....Theodore Roosevelt
See you in Maui dear friends and co-conspirators, and I look forward to the return trip with Christof (Vic-Maui 2012 /Simply Sailing), and many more stories to tell in my old age!

 Don's Halfway Cafe:
Every two years, a restaurant so extraordinary, so exclusive that only an extremely select few A-list people are even included on the invitation list for it's bi-annual, one day only, opening. So secretive is this restaurant that it's opening day and exact location, while generally known to be somewhere in the middle of the north Pacific Ocean, is changed ever year and not made known to any of the invitees until the day of the opening. Even the menu is kept a closely guarded secret until the meal is served. The restaurant? "Don's Halfway Cafe." The invitees? Only the Vic-Maui sailors who have reached the halfway mark from Victoria to Maui and privileged enough to be a member of team String Theory.

This year, Don's Halfway Cafe was located in a beautiful patch of aquamarine coloured water at 37 degrees 19.566 N, 142 degrees 00.394W in the north Pacific with an unobstructed 360 degree view of the horizon. Diners had
their choice of seating in the outdoor patio under a beautifully sunny sky or down in the luxuriously appointed galley of the floating restaurant. On the menu for tonight's five course dinner was:
Hors d'oeuvres:  chorizo sausages with green olives
Soup:  chilled avocado with cilantro
Appetizer:  crab cakes covered with rosted red pepper aoli
Main Course:  grilled beef tenderloin with wild rice
Dessert:  raspberry sorbet sponge cake
Served with Peller Estates Cabernet Sauvignon.

Master chef, Don, marveled us with his culinary skills while he prepared and  staged the five course meal in a galley listing 20 degrees, bouncing around in 5 foot chop, and only the basic of kitchen amenities. The meal was truly something to be savored. A special thank you from the members of Team String Theory to Don, Ellie (soup), Tricia (crab cakes), and Maggie (dessert) for preparing such a special meal for such a memorable occasion, shared with friends. What a wonderful Vic-Maui tradition. It makes the race more than just a race for team String Theory.

And in other news, as a happy co-incident, it was Jeff's birthday today. Happy Birthday Jeff from Team String Theory!  Now you can actually say that your 53 Levi's shirt states your age, not your IQ (I'm ok with writing this
because it was you who said it).

Signed: Boaters Always Need A New Adventure Because Racers Eagerly Accomplish Distance

Weeks before the race to Maui even began, Gunnar was downloading weather data almost daily and running it through Expedition to see what the potential routes might be for String Theory from Victoria to Maui. Early on,
it was apparent that the weather pattern in the Pacific was unusual this year. The classic (normal) route from Victoria to Maui is usually to sail parallel to the western US coastline at ~100 NM to 200 NM offshore to about
San Francisco, turn right around the southern end of the Pacific high and catch the trade winds all the way to Hawaii; basically one long spinnaker run. This year, however, several of the earlier routes predicted by Expedition - who has now been renamed by us Hal 9000 Mk II - showed String Theory taking a much more northerly route to Hawaii. Some route options were almost completely above the rhumb line (the rhumb line is the shortest route between two points on a curved surface) between Victoria and Hawaii and others crossed back and forth over it. Some of the northerly routes would require the use of white sails to beat upwind almost the entire way. Based upon historical knowledge of past Vic-Maui races, such routes are very rare but as race day grew closer, it was
apparent that the option of taking such a route was a real possibility for this year's race.

The phenomenon that was causing the unusual weather patterns in the Pacific was the presence of two (and actually sometimes three) smaller high pressure systems over the north Pacific instead of one very large one. The normal (classic) route is the way it is because the one large high pressure system over the northern Pacific establishes the latitude of the trade winds AND creates a dead wind zone over the rhumb line. But with two smaller high pressure systems over the northern Pacific, their predicted location was such that the southern high pressure system would push the trade winds further south than usual this year and the presence of a second, more northerly high pressure system, would create a path between the two high pressure areas that happened to be more-or-less in line with the rhumb line (i.e. there is a path between the southern high pressure system and the northern high pressure system).

In the weeks leading up to race day, Hal predicted several "optimal" route options for String Theory as the daily weather forecasts changed. And while Hal may have determined that one of the optimal route options for String
Theory was to take the path between the two high pressure systems - particularly given that to take the classic route this year would require traveling much further south than usual - Hal couldn't be expected to know that the two high pressure systems are unusual and that there was a strong possibility that they could either a) collapse into each other and form the "normal" single large high pressure system or b) shift over-top of you.

If the two high pressure systems were to collapse into the single large system while you're trying take the path between them, you'd be caught in the middle of the newly formed large high pressure system; likely for days,
with no wind at all. If they shifted over-top of you, you could find yourself either in the middle of a high pressure system or in the no go zone between the two high pressure systems. And even if the two high pressure
systems don't collapse or shift, the winds generated at the edge of a high pressure system are relatively weak and String Theory is not very competitive in light air; particularly when compared to some of our competitor's boats which are smaller, lighter, or both. But at some point during a passage between the two high pressure systems, String Theory would likely be facing a stretch of light winds; possible for days.

By race day, Hal was still sometimes predicting that a path between the multiple high pressure systems would be an option for an optimal route. So the choices facing Team String Theory once we were out of the Juan de Fuca
Strait were 1) do we take the more conservative, but much longer, classic route which would takes us south of both high pressure systems, or 2) do we take our chances and try to follow the narrow path between the two high
pressure systems which, while riskier, is shorter. Because of how dependent on the weather forecast this decision was, this was a decision that Gunnar planned on making in real time once out of the Juan de Fuca Strait and on our way south.

Of course, since you're all probably watching our progress on Yellow Brick Road, you know that we chose to take our chances and take the path between two high pressure systems. In fact most of the fleet appears to have chosen to do the same thing with various degrees of success. What's not so obvious from watching our path on Yellowbrick, though, is why we're one of the more northerly of the boats taking this path. It really comes down to Hal's recommendations, which, as mentioned previously, are updated at least twice a day using our actual boat position, the latest weather information, and Gunnar's experience and intuition.

Because high pressure systems in the northern hemisphere always turn clockwise, the winds where the two high pressure systems meet will be going in opposite directions and therefore will be extremely variable, quite confusing, and generally not very strong (i.e. there is a no-go occlusion zone in the middle). It is not a place you want to be if you're trying to win a race in a sailboat. So really, the path between the two high pressure systems is actually two different paths. One path is to skirt the southern edge of the most northerly high pressure system, the second is to skirt the northern edge of the southerly high pressure system. The advantages of the more southerly path is several: 1) for the specific characteristics of String Theory (types of sails on board, hull design, etc.) it is the route that Hal has consistently predicted will be an optimal route for String Theory, 2) it is the shorter of the two possible paths and therefore you minimize the time you spend traveling between two potentially collapsing or shifting high pressure systems, and 3) it puts us in a good position (more specifically a good wind angle) for the sail into Lahaina. The downside of skirting the northern edge of the southerly high is that
String Theory would be beating into the wind - a slower and rougher ride - rather than on a spinnaker run if the route that skirted the southern edge of the northerly high were to be the one taken.

And to complicate things just a little bit further, Hal's predictions are time sensitive. The end result of all of this is if we don't travel as far as Hal predicts we should for a given course or we don't track the course as well as Hal needs us to, we could find ourselves arriving at a way point that no longer has the wind speeds or wind direction we need to realize the benefits of the optimized route chosen by Hal. We could also find ourselves losing more ground than predicted against our competitors who are better able to take advantage of light winds generated at the edges of the high pressure systems. Hence the title of this blog entry, Threading the Needle.

As this blog entry is written, we're now about halfway through our traverse between the heart of the two high pressure systems, and as predicted, the wind conditions to get here (i.e. skirting the northern edge of the
southerly high) were very light. As you've no doubt seen on Yellowbrick, our progress was very slow and it was an extremely painful ~24 hours on String Theory. Mike had been practicing his noose knots and slyly looking towards the top of the mast. If our attempt fails we're not sure that Hal will make it out alive...We know from the most recent 17:00 roll call results that we've lost ground to almost all of our competitors. However, Hal is still
predicting that if we continue to believe in his predictions and we continue to sail the most optimized path we can, given the latest weather forecasts, stronger winds are in our future when we start to pass through the two systems. Gunnar hopes that because of our choice to follow a path that took us closer to the no-go zone between the two highs as compared to the rest of the fleet, we'll see the stronger winds a bit before the rest of the fleet to the south of us and thus the (relatively) short term pain we've just experienced in the stretch of light winds will pay off in the long run. Because we only receive updates twice per day about the location of the other race boats, by watching the progress of the boats on Yellowbrick you'll probably know before we do if our gamble has paid off.

Signed: Boats Are Never As Noisy As Busily Racing Each Active Day

Arguably the busiest time on the boat is during a watch change when the incoming team is putting on all of their sailing gear and eating their meal/snack and the (now) outgoing team is coming down to get out of their gear and have their meal/snack. There's next to no overlap between the on coming watch and the outgoing watch as there needs to be a full complement of people topside to drive the boat and also there simply isn't enough room down below to accommodate everyone at once. For example, there are only 5 sleeping spaces on String Theory and 2 of these are in the main cabin where everyone eats. The only overlap point is when the incoming group goes topside to relieve the outgoing one. This is the time the outgoing  team updates the incoming one on what occurred during their watch (weather conditions, course heading, repairs/checks completed, etc.) and, more importantly, notes are traded about which team traveled the longest distance during their time "on deck"..

Simply competing against the other boats to see who can make the most progress to Lahaina each day isn't enough. Each watch competes against the other to see which one can travel the furthest distance. So far, the tally is 256 for Black Watch and 267 for Top Gun. Then each watch competes to see who can set the top instantaneous boat speed while driving (so far it is Don at 17.4 knots on Black Watch). This friendly competition will happen for every watch until we cross the finish line in Lahaina. This is a great way to help keep everyone focused on making the boat go fast at all times and to build team spirit. Finally, each watch also competes within their own watch to see who can set the fastest instantaneous speed. Everyone cheers when a new top speed is set.

It should be noted, however, for those of you who will eventually hear varying opinions about which watch was the best one on Team String Theory, it is pretty clear already that Gunnar (our navigator who is on the Pop-Gun Watch) sets a faster course for his team than for the Black Watch. The course difference is subtle - and Gunnar claims that this isn't the case - but Black Watch knows better. So for any future long distance sailors out there, the lesson learned here is make sure you end up on the navigator's watch.....

Other daily routines that occur both during and off watch include running the diesel twice a day for one to two hours to charge the house batteries, running the water maker, checking the boat's rigging and lines for signs of wear or chaffing, fixing or troubleshooting for problems that pop up along the way (such as tightening the steering cable, investigating the new squeak coming from the rudder column, troubleshooting the water maker, repairing damaged rigging and lines, sail checks, etc.) general housekeeping chores, and the list goes on. It might seem surprising that so much needs to be done to keep the boat running safely over a two week period but one Vic-Maui is the equivalent of 10 years of sailing within coastal BC so 10 years of wear and tear is condensed into a two week period...

The 17:00 Roll Call is another very important daily routine as it is the one and only time each day that each race boat (all divisions), must report in their location and local weather conditions to the race committee. The race
committee compiles all of this information and emails the updates to all boats before 18:00. Gunnar will plug this information into his tracking spreadsheet to determine where the race boats are with respect to our position (particularly for the boats in our division) and provide all of us an update on any of the watch changes. There are a few boats that have access to Yellowbrick so they receive automatic updates more often but these boats are by far the exception (data via satellite is not cheap).

So in summary, it may seem like there wouldn't be much to do from day to day on a long distance sailing trip such as this one but surprisingly there's always something that needs to be done.

Signed: Becalmed Admits Numerous Anachronisms Never Agrees. Better Really Eat And Drink.