Mai Tais are on ice...

July 14, 2010

We are 285 nm from Maui. We have gained some ground over our division competitors over the past couple of days, so the westerly rather than southerly approach seems to be making sense. You will not be reading this entry until after we have crossed the finish line due to the fact that our super shore side support person, Hale’s wife, June is en route to Maui. (Ah, the miracles of modern science and the Internet -- I'm in Maui and back on line :- J.)

We have been under spinnaker for two days. Each crew has done about 35 watches, not counting the all hands episodes. The days do tend to blur in retrospect although each seems unforgettable as it is occurring. It is the failure of our memories not to be able to catalogue events with accuracy and precision that leads to this vagueness of recollection. Were there two or three spinnaker changes? Did that happen yesterday or the day before?. It was once the current thinking in the neuroscientific community that the human brain was a giant filing cabinet and our only limitation was the ability to access the information in the cabinet. If one were able to access the memory then there was a completely accurate record available for review. We now understand that this was too simplistic. Memory is far more complex and subjective function. It is therefore individualistic. There will therefore be eight unique initial recollections of this race by the eight persons on board. As time passes, there will be unconsciously revised “memories” created by each of us. Speaking only for myself, it will always certainly inhabit the “significant events” section of my brain in a most positive fashion. I hope that in the future I will be confronted with the dilemma of trying to remember on which race an event occurred. This stuff is pretty addictive.

Last night, sunset was remarkable and quite paradoxical. The line squalls that pass in front of, behind and over us, all aggregated on the western horizon. They are giant black cummulo nimbus clouds that, but for the fact they are in our past, would be quite threatening. The sun came down on top of the clouds and as it sank behind these giant black monsters the light began to fade from the sky. This unique moment at the end of the day is known by the French as crepe escuil and in English as the gloaming. Just as it appeared that darkness would descend over the entire sky, the sun which was now only just below the horizon, began to emit brilliantly intense orange light in an upward direction as if a giant fiery cauldron were brewing at the end of the earth. The intensity increased for a matter of moments turning the entire western sky into a myriad of orange and pink hues surrounded by the black clouds. Wow! I just do not know what else I can say.

Night is a special time on a moving sailboat. When you are driving, the senses one employs are quite distinct from those in the daytime. The most obvious differences are that the orientation of the bow of the boat and the view of the horizon are either greatly reduce or eliminated. But there is something that is more internal to the process. I believe (after consultation with our on board medical consultant and skipper) that this is known as proprioception – the ability to coordinate one’s body in a three dimensional environment. This innate quality, present to everyone to a greater or lesser degree, cannot be replaced entirely by the use of instruments. In fact, attempting to rely on instruments creates the most intense sense of vertigo and you feel that the boat is turning in tight circles. Steering by the stars most closely approximates the daytime experience. The only downside to steering by the stars in this area of the world is that from time to time they become obscured by each passing storm cell.

In all likelihood, tomorrow will be a short entry and then, after the parties and the hoopla in Maui, I hope to send a closing entry. Thanks to everyone for opening these electronic messages in a bottle.

Les on Turicum