Leg 7 Race 2 .. Post Panama, post Pacific calm

06.06.2024

The great gates of the canal and the hundreds of resting metal giants at anchor fell into the night as we motored out of Shelter Bay, past the breakwater, and into the embracing swell of the Atlantic; the final stretch has begun, our tired, aching bodies revitalised from our short, sweet, stop in Central America. Ahead of us now is another 40 hour stretch of motoring - ugh - to the Le Mans start, 243miles North East towards Jamaica, before a race just under 2000 miles to return to the USA. The night was dark; ominous, spirit-like squalls were scattered across the sky, an army of cloud attempting to block out the light of the Milky Way, her legions of stars piercing through the gaps in the rain’s ranks.

The motoring has allowed us to potter through the few tasks we had left to prepare us for the race. Reefing lines were checked, chafe was forgotten as not bad enough; tell-tails have been replaced on the mainsail and staysail so that we can trim with less guessing; battens have been tightened to bring shape to the sagging, beagleish jowls of the main’s leach. We have made further plans for our Le Mans start, we will be the most leeward boat this time, furthest from the wind, with Ha Ha and two other fast boats, before the rest of the fleet, set to block us from any of the light gusts that might pull through, we want to make sure we can do anything we can to get ahead; Plan is the same as always, get ahead and stay ahead, we just need to make sure we do it especially well this time, and so we have allocated people to where they are best suited to ensure a speedy takeoff. As the day progressed, the iron sail was replaced with white, order restored, peace made. We can expect an MOB drill in the morning, fun, before setting our sails for the beginning of race 12.

The flow of familiar waters fills a calm into the boat as the tide tows us into the trade winds.

Floating friends cumulate around the warm flame of the days end, swaying slowly as the last of the fiery embers fizzle into the sea, slowing their dance only as pink and purple swim through to tell them of the night; orange and white tuning to a gray and blue sleep. I’ve got a good feeling about this race.

Will x

Song of the day: La mer est calme - Ben Mazué