Sunday, July 20
2100 PDT

29 51 N
135 23 W

Speed 9.4 knots

A long ocean passage is a fascinating experience. There is seeming a beginning with no end. You are either on watch or off watch. There are no radios, TVs, teleconferences, meetings, Internet (other than for quick messages and weather downloads), dinners, commutes, or comforts. But there is an incredible singularity of focus. Nothing matters except making the boat go as fast as possible. That's it. No agendas and no distractions. It really is amazing.

So here I sit, getting ready to crash. I'm off watch right now. We run four hour watches during the day (6-10, 10-2, and 2-6). At night, we run three hour watches. In this way, we end up having 8 hours of off time every other day. All off watch time is used to clean, repair, wash and eat. The only thing we do when on watch is work at making the boat go. Generally, we have one person driving (1 hour each) and two trimming the sails.

The boat is divided into two watches, green (starboard) and red (port). But becuase of the way they broke out, we've got the old guys and the young guys. Not included in the cycle are my father and my son, Richard. My father is the navigator and keeps us headed in the right direction with the right weather. This is Richards first Hawaii Race so he is largely exepmt at 12 from having to stand a watch.

The first two days were really tough on everyone. It was particularly nast weather (ceb: something about a feather) and both Richard and I were sick. I've done this before and was expecting it. So were my watch mates. While I stood my watches, I was not particularly effective. For Richard, it was a bit of a horrible surprise. Sick, down below for two days he was miserable. Sick and cold all I could do was lie on the interior cabin sole with him, holding his bucket and promising him it would get better. He's an incredibly tough kid and just looked at me, with a weak smile and say "ok, dad".

Yesterday, as things started to quiet down and the wind and seas clocked aft he become more and more active and chipper. By the afternoon he was up on deck. Today he was eating ravenously, and working on his downwind trimming skills. He even decided to try some psychological warfare on "Hula Girl". Knowing that Paul Cayard's teenage daughter is aboard, and a believer in the truth of advertising, he started to spray his AXE deodorant around. His logic was that if it really did attract girls, as the ads say, they she might slow the boat down to investigate the scent.

Hula Girl has been really fast, Granted, we've had some of our worst days of sailing in a while.

20 minute break occurred here as Harry screamed that he had broken the tiller...oh sh*t. Upon inspection we found that the bolt had sheared from the tiller head. So we have effected a temporary fix and are now working on a more (6 days) permanent one. Ugh. Our butchers bill is growing...1 destroyed kite, three repairs, and now a sheared tiller bolt. Hopefully our karma will change.

So Hula Girl has been really fast, and I take my hat off to them. So have Roxanne and Morpheus. So, the next few days should be interesting as the story of this years Pacific Cup for XL unfolds.

All of us miss our loved ones ashore and hope to see you all soon.