TranspacBlogII-25: Transpac Dads

22July07

We've got Farfar in our sites. Just off the weather bow. We are both sailing on starboard tack, headed for a Molokai rendezvous day after tomorrow. She is sailing a slow low course, apparently blocking the "passing lane". Knowing that the easterly shift in two days will favor boats on the right of the course, we are inclined to let her get to our left. "No!", you all are crying. "Don't do it. Haven't you learned? Pass on the left!"

We did learn. We got this close two days ago, because we took a disadvantageous jibe to the south, searching for better winds, winds the GRIBs said would be there. Winds we ALL knew would be there. The winds WERE there, even stronger than predicted, and that brought us to this point. But now, the GRIBS don't show any advantage to the south for the next two days. When in doubt, point the boat right at the mark and go as fast as you can.

We are.

Well, I'm still thinking a lot these days about dads. There are some truly astounding connections between the dads of the crew of Psyche; connections that none of us suspected. It turns out that the dads of Jim and Charlie and Bill were all good friends. Furthermore, they all sailed Transpac on the same craft, the famous 98 foot ketch Morning Star. The hub of the Transpac connection was my Grandad, Howard W. Wright Sr. He was the navigator on Morning Star in 1949, 51,53, and 55 (actually he assisted my dad who was navigating in 55), and Jim's and Charlie's dads knew him well. Don Barber sailed on Morning Star in 49, and 51. Dad and Henry Buckingham sailed together on the record breaking run of 1955. I knew none of this before we started this race.

Can't help wondering what it must have been like, a bunch of good friends, part of a 16 man crew on an awesomely powerful ketch. The photos of these guys when they arrived in Honolulu in 1955, after sweeping all the trophies and the record, are really cool. They are wearing leis upon leis upon leis. Their eyes just barely peek out over the top of the stack of leis. You can just imagine how they smell. Heady stuff.

And here, in 2007, are their descendants, sailing once again to Honolulu, all on the same boat.

Now it is six hours since I described our position with Farfar. About noon, they started "heating up", heading a bit more to the right. They probably realize that going left is not going to be good when the easterly shift the weather Gribs are predicting takes place. But just now the wind has really piped up, topping 23 knots, but from 040, just a tad north of Northeast. This is a really unusual wind for this part of the course, which generally shows an easterly trade wind. This wind is from 50 degrees farther north. We can only just barely carry our spinnaker on starboard tack. We changed from the 1/2 oz, to the 3/4 oz, and now, by golly, we just changed to the "bullet proof" 1.5 oz spinnaker. This is good for a good deal more wind than this.

Meanwhile, Farfar has given up their quest to go north, and are sailing from right to left, right on our track for home. They are very close, probably three miles dead ahead.

Ok, 2 hours and 4 spinnaker changes later. The wind is howling from North North East. The only sail we can hold is the 1.5. Farfar is wallowing in a calm spot after the last squall. We are coming up on them.

More tomorrow.

P.s. Jim Barber found my glasses in the bilge under my bunk. Yay.