I'm now lazily sipping coffee by the pool of our little B&B, which is a fantastic spot. A separate cabana with big windows and breeze, and wonderful hosts - yacht club members who have volunteered on this end of the Pac Cup for some 20 years, and who made us a welcoming cake and have provided real, not gerry can, coffee. Very happy!

Landfall is of course bittersweet. Here's another quote, this time from Moby Dick - "stand that man on his legs, set his feet a-going, and he will infallibly lead you to water, if water there be in all that region." Well isn't that how we are? Approaching land - the craggy misty peaks, covered with lush vegetation, the lights of civilization, and the military planes zooming in for landings - lovely to see, but then I turn around and look the other way, out onto the endless waves and wind and deep blue sea and long to be there, and know it will be some time before I've sailed out of sight of land again, into the nothingness and everythingness of only ocean.

And then we land, almost. First we cross the finish line, and in those last few hours, the boat went from tidy organization, to chaos. Spinnaker doused and not put away, mildewy clothes thrown around, liferaft and cooler moved into the middle of the cabin to access the outboard and anchor. Then we get to the raft-up of boats and stop moving for the first time in 12 days. Thank goodness we took the bucket baths! A huge group of friends waits on land, cheering us as we tie up, and keep cheering through the brief inspection, and as we climb off the boats. Lots of hugs and congratulations and mai tais and champagne from Tule Fog. The trading of stories began and has continued since we landed - now 1 1/2 days out. The first night, we crashed on the couch in a high rise condo in Waikiki, not realizing we could have checked into our B&B, but really it was kind of late. I woke up early in the morning and went out on the balcony of the 23rd floor, and the whole world was still rocking - I thought I would fall of the balcony. The world is mostly stationary now - it still rocks when I wake up first thing in the morning, but my inner ear is reacclimating to stationary ground. Back to normalcy. We spent yesterday drinking too many Mai Tai's and a pitcher of mudslides, and aired out the boat and swam in the pool at the yacht club. Usually, on an island, near the beach, I would never swim in artificial chlorinated water, I would insist on the saltwater and sea breeze of the beach, but the pool and the yacht club are so comfortable, and the ocean has worked me so much in the past 2 weeks, that I'm completely content with a brief respite from her saltiness. Will get down to the beach later today or tomorrow.

So that's the last blog entry. Thank you all for reading - I can't wait to log on and read all the comments - some have been forwarded, but not all. I've found out we have some Tule Fog fans who read our blog to keep track of what's going on, as well as our own friends and supporters, and that we had a soap opera moment that had at least one mom I've never met calling her daughter at work to say "Rachel got engaged!" ("who?" responded the daughter? "Rachel, from Great White!" Thank you Annie and mom!)

Welp. Bon voyage to us and to all as we all keep sailing through this adventure of life.

- Rachel

so now the "race" to the finish - actually very low speed final few hours. Very excited. We can make out land - Molokai Island I guess. Tule Fog, our heroes, finished this morning and we will be a good 12 hours behind them, but amazingly may end up decently in our division. Some explaining to do here as to how the slow boat can place well - for you non-sailors. This will answer my brother Paul's questions as well. He asked early on in the race, "Why are some boats so fast? WTF? Trunk Monkey??!!" Trunk Monkey is a faster boat than ours and because nearly all the boats in the race are unique there is a handicapping system so we can compete against each other. Slower boats, like us and Tule Fog, can take longer to get to Hawaii but then correct out ahead using the handicapping system. Also, because of the handicapping system, it is a little hard to compare yourselves to all the boats you are sailing against - excpet if there is another identical boat to yours, like Tule Fog. That is why I have cared so much about how we are doing in comparison to Tule Fog, because it really let's us know how we are sailing - where we were weak, where we kept up. OK, so if the fastest boat doesn't win, but rather the best boat based on corrected time, how is that boat winning? Here I quote Paul again quoting the Princess Bride "do you think he is using the same wind we are using?" (I may have got that quote wrong.) That's exactly it!! On this long race, we try to pick the course to Hawaii where we will have the best wind and get there the fastest. Is it possible we sailed a better course than some other boats, even while letting Tule Fog slip ahead because of our "learning curve?" Who knows. We will find out in the post-race analaysis, which will likely go on and on and on for longer than the race!

On other news - after 12 days, I am way overdue for a shower. Fortunately, it is so darned hot out there, that I may take a bucket bath before landfall. The boat is disgusting - various items are mildewing, the garbage is getting a little smelly whenever you open the garbage bag, our clothes smell as bad as we do. This boat should be quarantined on landfall.

On other news yet - lots of sheerwaters near hawaii. Tons and tons of flying fish - a little baby one landed on the back of my hand while driving. You guys should all google or youtube flying fish and see what they look like flying out of the water and skimming the waves. Also saw the first red footed booby yesterday. I love those birds!

And the final news - the squalls were very challenging last night. Just when I was getting so sassy, like I know how to surf with the best of them, in comes this new challenge and throws that to the dogs. Thank you JP for some sagely advice on driving and yet more ways to manage the boat during a squall. I still just do not get them. Apparently the squalls sail on starboard or port so you can predict when they will hit you. Hmmm. Will have to figure it out next race...

So last night, we finally flew the big spinnaker at night, instead of the shy kite or poled out jib. That means that the weather had moderated enough that we weren't scared silly. And it was great. I came on for the 1-3 am watch (call, for you med folks) with expectations of the usual - dozing off every other minute, numbers on the knotmeter getting fuzzy from fatigue. But instead, it was amazing. I was surfing along at full speed at night, felt totally in control, and had a blast. I thought halfway through the watch - "wow, this is what it is all about" and even had thoughts of doing it all again - the cold, the wet, the sleeplessness, just to get here. Night is a lovely time - the tricolor navigation light at the top of the mast lights up the spinnaker - 1/2 red, 1/2 green, and even illuminates some of the surrounding waves, so you are not totally blind. The bioluminescence lights up the waves too, and usually the moon should, but there is no moon right now. Occasionally the sky above you turns pitch black - that is a squall. I kept thinking of what people say, that the race is won at night, and now I see why. There has been a huge learning curve for me both days and nights, but each night I get better. I suspect that with more experiences, we might have had the spinnaker up at night earlier in the race, as I assume Tule Fog did. Will find out when we get there.

The other excitement last night on 1-3 am watch. I loosened my jacket collar and shortly thereafter smelled something foul - more mildewed filthy clothes under the jacket I figured. But then something started flopping around on the seat beside me. I screamed, and realized that the smell was actually a flying fish. Then I squealed some more and tried to figure out how to get it off the boat and back in the water, but it was so slimy that I just watched the poor thing flop to death. WIth all the commotion, you'd think JP might have woken up and wondered what was going on. I started to think that I could fall off the boat and he'd never know. But the first thing he said when he came up was "sounds like you had a flying fish." so I guess he was just down cozy in his berth being entertained by me and the fish.

Very lovely today. But light. Then we got something on the rudder and had to turn the boat around and get it off. Now it is evening so the wind is picking up. We are having Pad See You (spelled as on the package).

Surprise! At the 1/2 way party, JP got down on his knees precariously in the cockpit and gave me a very charming slit ring (you know, like a key chain ring) and asked to marry him. It was a good day to do it - 1/2way to Hawaii, I'd been bummed out in the morning by our sorry performance with rapidly extending distance between us and Tule Fog, but then had had long hours of surfing waves and deep thoughts all afternoon about why I was out here and what this race means to me - is it the race? is it the sail? is it the ocean? Good thoughts were had, I won't bore you to tears with it here, and some of those good thoughts were aimed towards JP and me. So I said yes. And then we smooched and promptly got a spinnaker wrap. Just proof for all of you out there that this is hardly a romantic endeavor. We can't even kick back and have a smooch!!!

Then, we opened our 1/2way party gifts - thank you Betty and Lucy!!! And I think would have settled on the sugar cookies and chocolate covered ginger for dinner when oh my god, there's a boat! A big sailboat with a white spinnaker like us, maybe 1/2 mile away. They were on port, we were still on starboard, and I tried to catch them, but we ended up crossing about 1/4 mile away. We hailed each other on the radio - it was Tiki J (another boat in the race) and they told us all about their amazing 1/2way party meal which had at least 5 courses, and all I remember was asparagus which sounded very good, and we told them our news and they promised to buy us one, only one, mai tai when we get to Hawaii as we are now joint property, at which point we began reconsidering, but no we are still engaged. Just heard TIki J tell the whole fleet our news during the 5pm "children's hour" on the radio. Very cute.

OK, now need to call my adorable niece and sing her happy 6th birthday. And then sleep.

OK. Seriously weak on the regular posts for the past 4 days. Been very busy and intermittently very tired. Attaching the sat phone to the computer, telnetting in, writing something readable - takes at least 45 minutes, and when the seas are lumpy comes with some yucky queasy feelings which I've wanted to avoid. I am writing now because seas have calmed down quite a bit, and I had the worst ever gerry can instant starbucks coffee this morning and I know that JP is about to let me sleep for 3 hours at least, since I just gave him 3 1/2 hours, and I know that The Mama is FREAKING OUT that I haven't written or communicated in 4 days and probably thinks that I am near death or miserable, neither of which is true. Though miserable has definitely happened, and near death crossed my mind, not because of any one thing, but just because worst case scenario thoughts tend to run through my mind sometimes in the middle of the ocean.

On day 4 7/10 the wind arose and i discovered the reason I am out here on this little 27 foot boat - to surf the waves. On Friday day 4, the surfing often looked like this: huge monster mountain (ok at least 10-12 feet) lifts you up, points the bow (the front) of the boat downhill, and let's go. Whee! So we decided to set the kite (aka spinnaker the big pretty sail in the front that makes you go fast downwind). Up it goes, round up, round up (oops), boom! destroyed that kite. So then a big thanks to Steve Katzman of Diane (hull #0 express 27 like my boat) who lent us a "shy kite" for shy people like me. We flew it from 12:30-22:30. Finally took it down on JP's 3rd round up (I'd had 3 as well). Then we flew the jib (the usual sail in front) all night.

On this day, we became very very wet. Huge bow wave soaking us from the surf. 2 waves that got us from the side 1/2 filling the cockpit (don't worry Ma, the hatch is closed so the inside of the boat doesn't fill with water). Foulies became wet and saturated, though these are good musto foulies which don't leak. Clothes all damp, whole boat swetting. Nothing dries. This is the beginning of some unpleasantness which lasted 3 days until we got our first sunshine yesterday day 6 7/12.

On day 5 7/11 the wind was still quite north. More shy kite. No round ups. We wondered if we were in the trades I think (I am getting the days mixed up now) with frequent q15 minute squalls, which are little light rain storms with colder and stronger wind. At night, wepoled out the #3. Which was a 1st for us. It was much more stable than trying to sail downwind with lumpy seas and the jib on the normal side. On this night, all was still wet cold and miserable!!! The next morning Tule Fog had gained 15 miles on us - for good reason, we were exhausted and couldn't push very hard at all. I suspect that they have been using steroids.

On day 6 7/12 we were definitely in the trades. There was sunshine. The waves were still big, but getting better. We were able to use the usual spinnaker (0.75 oz) and surf galore!!! Became extremely exhausted again last night. It got more windy at night, with squalls that would come and send the boat zooming along, very on edge. We became nervous about all sorts of things, and really didn't want to break anything. In the evening we first changed to the shy kite, then quickly to the #3 poled out. JP did the 1st 2 hour watch, white knuckled I think. I came on and with each puff getting puched straight towards the bottom of a wave, decided we should shorten sail further. So at 11 pm or so, we reefed the main and kept the #3 poled out. I was still surfing to 12-13 knots with this combination, but felt more in control, and like we weren't about to break the boat. Very very tired - each one of these sail changes takes time. The hours of downloading and interpreting weather info takes time. I finally brushed my hair yesterday which takes time. I was dozing off and couldn't do more than 1 hour watches and was getting sea sick to boot, and what with all the work and fatigue and intense weather we hadn't really had dinner. It got much lighter at 4 am, and finally we put up the 0.75 at 7am. JP did roll call at 8am and then went to bed. It is now my turn.

So there are moments of intense awesomeness - amazing surfing, being out in the middle. But many times over the past 3 days both of us have thought that maybe we;re in the wrong race - we thought we signed up for the FUN race to Hawaii. JP says it is different than his prior pac cups, but me have no reference. I am just tired. And the coffee this morning helped. And we're at the 1/2 way point (where's Tule Fog? They said they would wait for us at the 1/2 way party??)

Thank you everyone for the notes on the blog!!! Paul just forwarded them to us today. Tauna - the hair may need to come off!!!

Darn, just got a big wet wave all on my dry clothes when I briefly stepped out of the cabin and JP drove into a wave. Not really his fault, I suppose. The wind is lovely 10-15 WNW and we spent the night jib reaching and surfing the waves. We decided it was too high and too wavy to try to set the spinnaker (the big colorful sail that makes you go fast downwind and to Hawaii), but now I wonder if Tule Fog set their's and if they got ahead of us. I shall find out momentarily when I download the position reports. With the wind came the waves, and everything is now a little damp. But we are plenty warm and it just makes me appreciate good waterproof foulies and good boots. The leaks are mostly limited to the usual suspects - the windows (only a little), the forward hatch (quite a bit, but that is the designated wet part of the boat), and the hole that the hoist sling goes through, which is the most annoying. I tried slathering silcone caulk all over it but it hasn't helped much. Not bad. None of the leaks are worrisome, ma, just annoying, but fortunately, no where near where we sleep.

On the 8-11 watch last night, a patch of sky with stars appeared though the overcast cloud cover we have had from the start. It was beautiful and i hoped it would stay. Then I look up 15 minutes later and the clouds have completely disappeared!! How did that happen so fast? it has been clear since. And the stars were amazing!!! This is big sky country with no competing lights. I saw several shooting stars - one that I swear started as a planet, flashed twice, and then zipped away . I know that can't be, that it was just a meteor burning up in the atmosphere, but it was very odd.

No more ocean life to mention.

We are finally starting to collect sea salt. We will serve Great White sea salt at our 4 star restaurant too. It crystallizes on the deck when the deck dries after being splashed.

I think today is hair brushing day again. Lots of love to all -

Rachel