So, now that the race is over, and E.T. is on the trailer and headed to Matson for her ride home, it’s time for a little reflection. Are you going to write a book so we can understand why you do this? What’s it like to be in the middle of the ocean on such a small boat? How do four coexist in such a small space?
Not sure I can answer all of those questions, even for myself, but I’m not writing a book, so that question is answered. I think I would just like to talk about the experience and the feelings it can leave you with.
E.T. is such a small boat, but spacious compared to other boats of her length, with the interior configuration to do just this type of sailing. Sailing with four people who have not practiced much together presents its own set of challenges as people will inevitably become sleep deprived and get a bit testy. It forces more people and equipment management for the skipper than a smaller crew does. But, we worked out everything that came up, although not always to everyone’s satisfaction.
The experience:
In the middle of the night, with no stars or moon, and no horizon, you wonder why you are here. Cold, wet, and generally uncomfortable for the first few nights. Then, a patch of cloud clears and the stars and the Milky Way provide a wonderful show. But, it doesn’t last long as the clouds fill back in and the night squalls start as you enter the trade winds. High winds and big seas often mean some uncomfortable but fast sailing, which is why we’re here. Below deck it sounds like the world is coming to an end. Above deck, things look perfectly manageable.
E.T. is a special boat, with a following. She has a fan club that follows her exploits from afar. I’ve had people come up to me at dock side and introduce themselves, wanting to see E.T. and just touch her, and look her over. Today, it was a sailor from Michigan, here in Kaneohe, of all places. They seem truly impressed with what she has done in her short life (born in 2000). When we learned on day three, that we had inherited the lead in our division, there was a warm feeling in my heart, realizing that E.T. was taking care of us, and that we needed to return the favor. I swear, she can talk to you if you are just willing to listen. She tells you when she is happy, and she is happiest going fast.
As mentioned above, E.T. took care of us. As we prepared her for travel, she showed the pain she had been hiding. Things we knew about: broken mast vang tang (resulting in a replacement vang being rigged), a shredded shy kite (small, heavy air spinnaker), the need to stop mid-race for some mainsail maintenance. Then, what she hid; a sheared spreader bolt (which, if it had come out would have resulted in a broken mast), a dropped rudder/gudgeon bushing, which could have resulted in a broken rudder. Through all of this, E.T. held in for the final push to the finish.
Being on such a small boat brings you closer to nature, literally. Jelly-fish on the keel, squid in the cockpit, flying fish on deck, and in your lap. Dolphins get so close that you can reach out and touch them as they race each other to the pressure of the bow wave to play. This is all just part of the attraction. It also helps put life and the universe in perspective. Our planet is getting smaller as we crowd more people onto it, and places like the middle of an ocean may be the only place to find peace from societal pressures. I know we can’t run from those things, but it sure is nice to have a place to escape for a few days, and E.T. is the perfect escape pod.
Will you do the race next time? Don’t really know at this point, but if I were forced to provide an answer right now…probably not. A lot of planning, preparation, and expense go into an adventure like this. I need to figure out the expense/experience ratio before making that decision.