Chatting with Dan before the start

Rounding the last buoy inside the bay and off to Madeira!

Thanks to Duff for the photos!

La Rochelle was so stressful.  There was so much going on, people on the docks, briefings for the skippers, last minute errands to run…  I was getting extremely nervous and couldn’t tell if it was because I was worried about the sailing, or just amped from all the energy in port.    Sunday finally came, and at 1330, the tide was high enough for the lock to open and boats to begin the tow out.  Every boat was sent out with an intro by someone on the loudspeaker, with their song playing in the background.  (well, the first few got their song, and then for some reason or another they resorted to playing “Eye of the Tiger” over and over for everyone else).   I had to wait for what felt like hours, and then finally got the tow, and off we went.   Leaving the basin was so cool- there were people lining the docks, and bridge, and cheering and shouting my name, and I have to admit, I loved it.

Then it was a mellow sail to the start, with some time to myself for the first time in weeks.   PR and I had some words, and then I found Dan Dytch and Bjorn and we dropped jibs and sailed around for a bit.  Ferries had been hired out as spectator boats, and there were loads of people just out on their own sailboats as well, cruising around and waving and cheering.

Off we went, I had a great start (even after the extra minute of silence/ respect) and a good first leg, and then at the windward mark I got to see my new zero for the first time.  Great success!    There was a short leg to another buoy, and then we were off, in light upwind.    By this time it was getting dark, and time to settle in.

The weather before the start had predicted light winds for the entire trip out of the Bay of Biscay, and I have to say, if I ever hear the word “variable” in a pre-race weather report again, I’m going skiing instead.   Before I got to Finisterre, I had spent at least 12 hours with almost no wind,. and at least 2 hours with the jib down, cowering in the cockpit trying to not get knocked out by the flogging boom.   Not awesome.

Light conditions in the Bay of Biscay

An especially horrendous track on the GPS from a “variable” afternoon….

Reaction to the V word after 5 days and still not around Finisterre

After 5 days of light weirdness, highlighted by hours of hanging out with a massive pod of pilot whales, and lots of chatting on the VHF with various other competitors, I finally got around Finisterre.  I’d made some miles, got around the TSS (Trafic seperation scheme, an area where all the commercial traffic has to go through set lanes, so no one runs into eachother, and one of the areas we were supposed to avoid), and was trying to figure out what to do next.   So far, none of the weather forecast from before the start had been very accurate.  The wind had always been from a different direction than forecasted, and MUCH lighter.    Before we’d left, there had been talk of a front coming through Friday/ Saturday, which would result in the characteristic wind shift to the NW, and a kite run to Madeira.  Which would have been great.   But since nothing had gone according to the predictions, I was not really excited to just head west blindly, hoping for some dumb luck to come my way.    But, it didn’t sound as if there was wind on the coast of Portugal either.   After a day of doing some westing, I’d gotten stuck again with no wind, pulled down the jib, turned off all the electronics to reduce noise on the SSB, and listened to the race weather forecast.   Denis, the race director, and who reads the forecast on Monoco radio once a day, actually said that due to the instability and weirdness of having so many minor lows so close together, there was a less than 50% chance that this forecast would be accurate.    So I tacked onto starboard, and took a painful hitch back towards the rhumb line.   I decided I’d given the routing a chance by going north/west of rhumb line getting out of the Bay of Biscay. and that hadn’t worked at all, so it was time to just do the safest thing and sail the shortest distance.

I saw other minis every day except one.   I passed 519 quite closely on Thursday (?)

I spent the second half of the race pointed at Madeira, sailing a heading of 205, changing sails as needed.   It turned out that the weather then stabilized, and went SE, so I was in luck.   The new zero is a beauty, and I was in between the jib and the zero for days, stacking and restacking as the breeze shifted, increased or decreased.   For 3 days I was in sight of 514, Clement, who got 2nd in the Series boats.   I know you think that my prototype should have no problem passing a Pogo 2, but unfortunately the combination of old design, and being much over weight, it is a major task to keep up with one sailed by one of the top guys like Clement.   In a way, this was the best thing that happened to me the entire first leg.   Being able to see him meant that I was really really pushing to keep up, and I learned LOTS about how to make my boat go as best as possible in a variety of conditions.  Sometimes I would gain on him, but he’d always pull away again.  Somewhere in this time, he told me that he was 4th in the series ranking (the ranking is read over the SSB with the weather, which I had all but stopped listening to), which was really really good news for me.  I knew I was far back in the protos, but one of my pre-race goals had been to let less than 10 series boats beat me to Madeira.   From this time on, I was pushing really hard and hoping to keep any more series boats from beating me to the finish.

Happy to be back at lat 38!

The last 2 days of the race saw some fantastic sailing with the A5, which is my favorite thing in the whole world.   Clement and I went seperate ways, and then on Monday minis started popping up everywhere.   We were being funneled between Porto Santo and the East end of Madeira, and I could hear the leaders on the VHF again.   I was a beautiful night, and the first half of the race where I had begun to question all my reasons for ever wanting to sail a 21 foot boat around in the ocean was fading from memory.   It was flat water, pressed on the 5, with the occasional wave that you could catch and surf.   I let myself listen to music on the speakers for the first time in ages (my fuel cell stopped working half way through for a day, which resulted in hand-steering through the one night of 25-30 knots.  Which was lovely. I assure you, and I was a bit shy of using too much power from then on.) and went through playlists from friends (thanks Will!) and the Fugees, and Radiohead’s “In Rainbows” and then Lauryn Hill, and came around the end of Madeira and put up the big kite.   The last 5 miles to the finish started whizzing by as the breeze increased dramatically under the cliffs.   I had the 2 up, and everything stacked in the bow (since it was only blowing 7 knots 5 minutes earlier), and sailing at 90-100 true with 18 knots of breeze was feeling a bit sporty, but with only 2 miles to go, and a boat just behind that I had passed 5 miles back, there was nothing to do but hang on.      I knew the breeze would wrap and probably die down around the corner in the bay by the finish, but I had not expected just how dramatically it would do so… it was like running into a wall, and by the time I got the 2 pulled down, and the 5 up again (the best wind-seeker sail I’ve got), I looked around and realized there were 5 other minis bobbing around me.  And we were about 300 feet from the finish.

My biggest regret from the entire first leg is that I didn’t manage to keep my attitude in check during this time.   After being on such a high for the past 36 hours, being stuck with no wind AGAIN, this close to the finish, and being passed by someone I had passed just 4 hours before because he sailed 30 feet further outside of me, really really bummed me out.   By the time I drifted across the line, I was feeling very dark, especially in comparison to just how happy I’d been feeling 30 minutes before.

My dad and Dan Dytch (who had finished some 6 hours ahead of me) came out to meet me and Dan helped me roll sails on the way in (except for when he was hiding while they played my song, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”).   I was presented with beautiful flowers for being the first girl to finish, and I have to admit that flowers were about the last thing I possibly could have wanted right at that moment.  What made things worse was that there were what looked like billions of series boats already at the dock and countless protos.  I was so disappointed and tired and exhausted and let down and frustrated that I had worked so hard to get as much speed from my boat as possible, without much to show for it.

The harbor the morning after my finish.

Inevitably everything looked a lot better after a few hours of sleep.   I realized I’d finished 22nd out of the protos- which given that MANY of the fleet have done the Transat before, and that there are at least 15 boats capable of getting a top 10 finish, is fairly ok.   And only 6 series boats had gotten in ahead of me.  Well, 7 were scored ahead, but Gwenole in 455 and I crossed the line together.   And some of the top Proto guys had only been in a few hours ahead of me.   And everyone admitted that this had been one of the most, if not THE most, challenging leg of a race that they had ever sailed.

So now we’re in Funchal.   I’ve been doing lots of little projects.  Nothing major, I just broke a few things, and figured out how to make a few things more better for the next leg.   I’ve had lots of sleep, some really good food, and am very much enjoying the chilled out atmosphere around the harbor compared to the frenzy of La Rochelle.

I hope that the next leg gives me a chance to make some interesting decisions, instead of just resorting to the least-risky/ shortest-distance of rhumb line, though I honestly think that even in hindsight, that was the best possible option for me and my boat this last leg.   My dad is here, which is, as always, extremely helpful, and I’m looking forward to getting away from the boat for the next two days to explore the island a bit.   The race is ultimately scored as combined time from legs one and two, and I am at present, 13 something hours behind Seb in 716. I don’t imagine that I’ll win, but 13 hours isn’t much after 4200 miles.    I think I’m doing just fine.

The tow into the lock at the old port

Waiting for the lock to open

The docks

Lots of work on the docks

many minis

Part of the race village

Some cool branding

I’ve found fast enough internet to be able to post photos! Great success!

Things are going well- I’m done with all my security checks, unfortunately there’s no real prize at the end of the scavanger hunt.   They’re giving water guns to the kids in the race village, so that’s not really fair, now is it.

I’m very much looking forward to next week when I won’t have to give anyone any hundreds of euros.  Right now I feel as though I’m just throwing dollar bills into the wind everywhere I go. Except they’re euros.

Off for a shower and dinner- La Rochelle is wonderful, lots of walking streets with cafes and restaurants outside on the cobble stones.   I’ll have to come back here someday when I can enter in a bit more!

Sorry for being so out of touch, internet has been a bit tricky…  I’m posted up at a McDonalds to write this (awesome free internet…).

The delivery down from Lorient to La Rochelle was great- 20-25 knots downwind the whole way.  Even got the auto pilot to drive for a bit with the medium kite.   I was terrified but the boat seemed happy… Which works.

(and then the internet stopped working, so I gave up.  Now two days later, I just fired up my computer on the boat, and imagine- fastest internet I’ve found yet, right in the cockpit.   Go figure.)

Anyway- I’m all done with all my checks, and now I just have to find the time to get some little projects done.  It’s hard to really accomplish much in a day with so many meetings and appointments- I’m hoping that maybe tomorrow will be a little bit more chill and I can actually tick some things off the list.   Jesse has been here helping me, he’s gotten tons done while I run around like a chicken with no head.   He’s gone off to the UK though for a few days, so now I’m going to have to find the time myself!

Every boat has been assigned a school group- the kids get to follow along with the race, and they also painted us awesome pictures for our main sails.  Here’s mine- I love it.

And here’s the scene on the docks.

I have to run home to eat dinner, but now that I know that the internet works, I’ll post more tomorrow!

Ok, first of all, I’m not sure how, but I was confused, and there are 6 women doing the Transat this year.  Which is awesome!  I had previously thought there were only 4 of us.    The more the merrier!

And second…  A few weeks ago, we were all asked to answer some questions about ourselves, so that someone could write a bio for us on the Transat page. One of the questions was about our own goals for this race.   Somehow, between what I wrote (in quick English) and what was posted on the page (written in French by someone who admitted that their English was not so great), my goals morphed a bit.   No big deal, when it was posted on the website, I read it, realized the error, emailed the author, he apologised profusely and promptly corrected it.

Unfortunately, this morning, seasailsurf.com, one of my favorite sailing news sites, published an article about the women sailing the Transat this year, and used the old version of my quote.    So rather than hoping to be the top female finisher this year, and to finish in the top 20 of the protos, I look like a cocky idiot saying “I hope to be the first woman to finish in the top 20 of the prototypes.”

In 2009, Anna Corbella finished 15th.  In 2005, Isabelle Joschke finished 14th.  In 2003, Pia L’Obr finished 11th.  Need I continue?    So oops.  I’m sorry if anyone thought I was being stupid and American.   I swear I wasn’t.

I’m back in Lorient.   It was an epic struggle to get back here.  My original flight was cancelled because of Irene, so I had to go an day earlier, and through London rather than directly to Paris…   So they lost one of my bags.   It’s still MIA.  Hope it turns up as it is full of important things like, a new tiller extension, chocolate covered espresso beans, prevail sprayers, all of my clothes, the key to my bike lock, my freeze dried for the first leg, my new kite sheets, and my sea boots.   Hmmm…

Spent the day cleaning out all the dust from the hatch building mission.   I hadn’t seen it on the boat yet, and I owe Dan Dytch a massive thank you for finishing it for me after I ran away back to the US.  It looks great, weighs half a ton less than the old one, and won’t close on my head.  All very important.   Just have to load sails onto the boat in the AM and then it goes into the water in the afternoon as I have training on Wednesday-Friday.  Very excited to get out sailing again on my little boat!

I’ve received several comments from friends and family to explain myself a bit more clearly while writing this blog.   So here goes:  A bit of a glossary for the non-sailors, or just anyone who thinks I’m mostly talking crazy-talk.   Since I spend about 23 hours a day thinking about, and talking about the Mini, with other people who sail Minis, sometimes I have to be reminded that the rest of the world doesn’t function like that.  I appoligize, and hope that this helps!

I’m not going to cover any of the basic basics- I’m just going to focus here on some of the more specific terms that seem to come up a lot when I’m talking about the Mini, and the type of sailing I do in general.

Ferule (friction ring/ static block)- These rings are made of stainless, or aluminium, or titanium and then anodized.   They get used everywhere on these boats.    The thing about ocean racing is that all the hardware on the boat gets abused.  Moving parts accumulate salt, ball-bearings wear out.   So wherever you don’t really need the reduced friction of a block, a ferule is perfect.    Reef lines, jib leads, runners, lazy-jacks, etc.

Box rule- The design of a Prototype Mini is limited by a broad box-rule.  What that means is this:  literally imagine a box that has some water in it.   The box is 3m wide, 6.5m long.  There is 2m below the water, and  12m above the water.  Now, if you want to design a mini, it just has to fit into that box.  With the keel canted, the bulb has to fit within the edges.  The top of the mast as well.   Then there are some limitations on materials that you can use in the build, and more specifics in terms of the shape of the cabintop, openings in the hull, the amount of floatation foam within the structure, etc. that have all been developed over the years to increase safety.   The Mini Classe rules outline these specifics, and are updated every year based on new technological developments, and considerations by the board.   They’re available here if you’re interested at having a closer look.  This box-rule way of doing things is how all the Open Class boats are designed and built.   So there are ‘boxes’ for the Class40s, Open60s, Volvo70s, etc.   This is different from a “One Design” boat, which are all the same- down to the details of what blocks are used on deck.  The Series Minis are one design by nature- all the Pogo2s are the same.  All of the Naciras.   Which is why the racing is so much closer between those boats- everyone’s starting with a much more level playing field.

Sails-  I’ve been talking a lot about the different sails that I’m using and having made for the boat, and I owe some explinations.   First of all, the Mini Classe doesn’t tell you what sails you can and cannot have on board- it simply dictates how many sails you can carry.   So on the prototypes you’re allowed 7 sails, one of which HAS to be a storm jib (and as of this last year, if you would like to carry a storm trysail, you are allowed to do so, and it won’t count as one of the 7).   That means that we all have to make some choices on what we’d like to take along.   But really, when it comes down to it, the development of sails for the Mini is becoming so honed (and it is just a 21 foot boat afterall) we all basically have the same combination.      A normal sail inventory looks like this:  1: Main 2: Jib 3:Code zero 4:A2 5:A3 6:A5 7:Storm jib.    (the sails you use upwind are the Main and Jib and in light wind, the code zero .  Downwind, you use the Code Zero, and Asymmetrical spinnakers- A2, A3, A5, etc.   Generally the even numbered sails A2 A4 A6, are a more deeply cut sail for running downwind, and odd numbers A3 A5 are flatter, for reaching. )

Sailing Downwind with the A2

Reaching with the Code Zero

Sailing with a reefed A3 in breeze

But here is where it gets fun- since all the boats are different, and add to that the skippers’ personal preferences and sailing styles, all A3s do not look the same.   Each sail is measured and cut specifically for the boat that it is intended for.  So for example, I’ve talked a lot about the issues I’ve had with my code zero.   When I took it to All Purpose to measure it and talk about my options for making a new one- we found that its area was 25.5m.  Which is big.  Even the powerful new boats are using smaller zeros of 22-24m.    Since my mast is so far forward (compared to the newer designs) it means that my jib ends up being quite small. (Also my shrouds end in the middle of the deck, instead of outboard, so the jib can’t overlap with the main at all).   So with a small jib, and then a large code zero, I had this massive gap in my sail inventory.   To go from jib to zero was a big step, which meant that there was a lot of wind speed and angle where I wouldn’t be sailing with the best possible sail up- I’d have to suck it up with the jib for a long time and then jump to the zero, sailing slower than everyone else the entire time.   To resolve that, my new code zero will be smaller.    As I said before- lots of development and thought has gone into the sails for a Mini, and given the limitation on the number of sails allowed, some creative thinking has been employed, and the result is reefable sails.   On a normal boat, you end up having a few different jibs.   Bigger ones for light wind, smaller ones for heavy.   Since the Transat is largely a downwind race, you don’t want to sacrifice any downwind sails just to have more jibs.   So our jibs have a reef in them (a place where you can literally fold the sail up to make the area smaller).   And the same is true with the kites.   Usually it’s just the A3 that has a reef in it (though All Purpose is also making A5s with a second clew for changing the size and shape of the sail).  So you’re virtually getting two kites in one.   Very cool.

Sail Crossovers- we literally draw up little pictograms to show what sail we should have up in what wind speed, and angle.   You WANT to have overlap.  That way if it’s blowing 18, and you’re sailing a true wind angle of 140, you could have up either the A2, or the A3- so if the breeze is building, you can keep the A2 up awhile longer and change once you’re sure that you’re going to have enough wind to stick with the A3.   And if the breeze is dying, the opposite is true.    Sailing alone, you want to change sails when necessary, but you also want to be sure about your choices so you don’t end up wearing yourself out changing every 10 minutes when the conditions change.

AIS-  All commercial boats are required to carry an AIS transponder now, and anyone who wants one can get one too.   It’s just a little box which is programmed with your boat’s unique MMSI number- just a number that identifies the boat.  It also has some basic info about the boat- length, type, name, etc.   The box is hooked up to a VHF antenna and a GPS antenna.   When turned on, the AIS transmits your MMSI, position, heading, speed, and for commercial boats, often it will have their origin and destination on there too.    That way, if you have the screen to go with it (I don’t- a lot of Minis don’t as it costs extra and I don’t think I’d ever look at it anyway), you can sit there and see when another boat is near you.  They pop up as this little dot, with a line showing their path, and you can click on it for more info, like their name.   Which is great, because then you can pick up the radio and rather than trying to hail a boat at such and such a position, you just call their name and they answer.   Check out this site (www.marinetraffic.com) and go someplace interesting like the English Channel, and you can see how it might be useful.

Please never hesitate to ask me questions about any aspect of the campaign or about the boats themselves.   I know this is only a start, so let me know what else I can help with!

I’m currently home in Maine- enjoying some non-sailing time.  Well, actually I went sailing last night- I got to go racing for fun on a J80 in Rockland harbor, and it was awesome.   I need to try to get in some more sailing for fun in the future or else I risk losing track of the big picture.   Hopefully the Transat will help!   I’ve got another 10 days of vacation, and then it’s back to France for the final push!

So I made it to Hawaii.    Getting from Lorient, France to Waikiki is no easy task, let me tell you.   But it all went smoothly, and I was even able to have lunch with another Mini sailor, Craig Horsfield, in Seattle along the way.

We’ve been prepping the boat- getting the race sails off the boat and the delivery ones on, provisioning, fueling up, and we’re leaving in the morning.    As always, I’ll be pressing the button on the Spot tracker from time to time, and the link is here.

And here’s another site that published the press release that went out last week:   I’m pretty psyched to have made it on to SeaSailSurf, as it’s one of the sailing news sites I check up on the most.

We’re under 100 days to the start of the Transat, and I’m one step closer to being on the official entry list!   Just waiting for them to finish checking out all my qualifier stuff (log book and celestial), so maybe I’ll be set by the time I get to SF!

So much has happened in the last few weeks!   I finished my qualif early in the morning of the 10th.   It took me almost 10 whole days!   The weather was less than ideal…     I’ve uploaded a bit of video from it here.

Since then, I pulled the boat out of the water, and have been very busy with lots of little jobs.    The bow pulpit needed to be modified to allow the pole to nest inside the beam of the boat (Classe Rules), so I pulled that off- which means lifelines as well.    Then I started detailing the rudders, which were a mishmash of old non-antifouling paint, and new primer here and there where I had made repairs from various incidents…    Now they’re nice and fair, with three layers of epoxy primer and some rolled on fluro anti-fouling.   I’ll wetsand them when I get back.

The other big project was to remove the old Lewmar hatch, and build a new one.   The hole for the hatch needs to be 125mm from the floor of the cockpit, and mine was too low.    So I made some carbon/ airex plate, and then Dan Dytch (who sails Soitec and will be also competing in the Transat this year) showed up and saved me by doing most of the legwork while I went into high gear packing my life into bins.

So i’m all moved out of my apartment, and am fully embracing a return to gypsy-life, sitting at CDG airport, about to board a plane to Boston.    I’m there one night, and then tomorrow I head to Hawaii, where I’ll be meeting Jesse and delivering the Open50 (now Truth, ex-Pegasus, ex-Artforms) back to San Francisco.   And then, I take a few weeks off from sailing!!   Can’t wait.   By the time I get to SF I will have sailed about 5,000 miles in the past 3 months.    And given that I’m adding another 4,200 in October, I think it might be a good idea to keep my feet dry for a few days…

And then I fly back to France on the 30th of August and have an afternoon to put my boat back together before training from the 31-2nd of Sept….   But for now I can pretend that’s years away, and just enjoy some non-Mini time!

I’ve enjoyed a bit of press over the past week:    Here are some links!

Sail-World

Scuttlebutt (have to scroll down a bit for this one)

Plane’s boarding, I’ll try to get some more writing up in the next few days, there were some interesting events during the qualifier that are becoming funny now.   I’ll try to share ASAP.

Need I say more?

Here’s a nice link with some photos of what a happy Mini looks like with the code zero up, all pressed and going quickly.    Those boats are not like my boat.  It’s like they’re entirely different creatures.    Someday maybe I’ll get to go sailing on one of the new ones… for now, I just need to make it work with what I’ve got.   Which, I think, involves getting a new code zero- a bit smaller maybe so that I can carry it longer…    Since my mast is so far forward, the boat’s really unbalanced as soon as you crack off, the jib is just very small… so I think I’ve got to meet in the middle with the zero….   Which means more money…

I didn’t take any photos of my boat looking unhappy.  I also didn’t take any photos or videos of the massively unpleasant sea state.   I knew that videos and photos never make the waves look as big as they actually are, and I knew that would make me mad later.  So I just didn’t take any.

There’s not really much else to say about the race, except that the kite run at the end, coming back into the Bay of Douarnenez was fantastic.    In 25 knots of breeze, and a very awful sea state (ebbing tide against the breeze, kicking up waves about 12-15 feet, from every direction), we held on setting for awhile.   We were still getting up to 15 knots surfing with two reefs in the main and the jib.   Then the waves settled a bit as we got further into the Bay, out came a reef, and up went the 5.    We had a good little romp with that (18.5 knots a few times), and then at the Cap De Chevre, did a quick sail change and put up the new A2.    That thing is just so cool.   In 14-20 knots of breeze you can just rumble along at 165 true and sometimes lower… which was good cause it meant we could soak under a cliff and do that entire leg to the finish without jibing.

Jesse and I ended up 20th in prototypes.   I was 19th in MAP.  So not that different on paper, except that this time a lot of Pogo 2s beat us too.     But at least we finished.  Lots of boats abandoned, and broke things.       We kept everything in one piece, ate some really good food, got much more sleep than I’m used to in these races, and thoroughly enjoyed sailing together.    But we definitely need a bigger boat.

Well, it’s official- the start is tomorrow and we are going South to the BxA buoy off of La Rochelle instead of around Fastnet Rock. Personally, I’m a bit happy about this decision. In order to get the race miles for qualifying purposes I HAVE to finish this race. Going up into the Irish sea in between two depressions would mean big, probably confused waves, and breeze. So we’d end up having to have less sail up than we’d like, and really throttle back to make sure we wouldn’t break anything. So we’re just be sailing slowly, in the cold rain.

Going South however, means that there will be mellower waves, and more tactical decisions to be made in regards to tides, thermals, etc.

Today the prologue was cancelled, which meant that I was able to spend some time with Olivier, the President of the Mini Classe, to go over all of the various measurements that have been taken of my boat. The Classe is combining all the different versions into one file, and they’re checking on things that were incomplete, or not in line with the rules in the past. Unfortunately I have a few things that I will have to change, but since we went through it all now, it means I have until the Transat to sort them out.

First of all, my pole does not fit within the beam of the boat when it is folded back against the rail. So I’m going to have to pull off the bow pulpit and redo the legs, as well as maybe just getting rid of the tree trunk and changing to a now-normal, much smaller pole that tapers at the end.

Also, my hatch doesn’t comply with the rule (changed in 2009). It’s supposed to be 13.5 cm from the floor of the cockpit to the bottom of the hatch (to prevent swamping of the inside of the boat when the cockpit fills with water), and mine is much lower than that. But it’s a blessing in disguise, because it is a great motivator for me to change the hatch out, which I wanted to do anyway. I can get rid of the massively heavy Lewmar one in favor of a new, light carbon one that folds up.

Off to dinner, and then tomorrow the start’s at 1600. The tracker is here.   Enjoy!