Epilogue

I sit here in Kona on the Big Island – my last day in Hawaii. The stay extended by a week because I caught COVID Monday after the race and tested positive once Bob and I arrived on the Big Island. Can't fly for 10 days after initial symptoms, so we had to extend our stay for another week. Luckily Cathy and Raife had left Sunday and dodged the COVID bullet!! (Bob had COVID in June so luckily he was also immune and able to take good care of me here on the Big Island.) 

Hopefully you had a chance to read Cathy's write up of our voyage. I am grateful that she took the time to so eloquently put into words what our voyage was like. I am also grateful to have had Cathy as my Pac Cup partner – I couldn't have asked for a better sailor, a better human, and now a better friend. At night, in the pitch dark while we were barreling down from wave to wave, I was actually able to sleep (most of the time) trusting her at the helm. That says a lot. 

This race was bittersweet for me as Bob was also supposed to race on Sea Star. Literally a month before the race he got horrible news about the mast step and had to withdraw from the race. Bay racing and the offshore racing we do out the gate is one thing when the coast guard is close by but a 2000+ race when there is no help half way there meant Bob just wasn't going to take any chances. And he was so excited for us to be the first couple racing his and her boats to Hawaii….. Like I said, it was bittersweet. 

You can read about the details in Cathy's write up but I wanted to add a few notes and observations. I have been racing offshore (outside the Golden Gate) double handed for the past 6 years. These races went to the Farallones, Drake's Bay, Half Moon Bay, even Monterrey and back (a "turn and burn"). I have never been out in the some of the conditions we saw on the Pac Cup. The wind and the swells were often large enough that back home, the race would have been called of or an alternate, in the Bay course would have been run instead. But, like Cathy said, you can't just stop, you have to keep going. You are tired? Too bad it's your turn to drive. The swells are confused and huge waves are crashing sideways into the boat? Oh well, you have to keep going. The boat is literally roaring from wave to wave whether you like it or not? Oh well, hold onto that tiller and keep going! No power and 5 hours of pitch black between the sunset and moonrise? Oh well, you got to keep going. We kept going and we did it and managed not to break the boat or ourselves (the cat kite notwithstanding – and BTW – Cathy designed that kite.) 

I am glad the boat is coming back to California on a container ship. I have a lot of work to do when she gets back. Mast up, all of the gear stored off, and a complete redo of the electrical systems. As Eric, my boat husband pointed out, I don't need any instruments to just sail that boat (as Cathy and I learned and did for 10 days) but I do want to do a single handed race and would really like to be able to use the new, expensive autopilot I have….. That does require power. 

Will I go again in 2024? Probably not on Hang 20 (unless I find another kindred soul who is as great as Cathy). On a larger, fully crewed boat? Maybe – who knows? That's 2 years away!