Sailing starboard tack across a major international race is a bit like dash across the Kentucky Derby track. But there is more space in the Tasman and all day only seen one competitor. The giant sailboats, owned by billionaires move at the speed of a good bicyclist finishing the 600 mile course in two days. Smaller slower boats like ours will take 4-5 days. All day we felt like we were in the capsule of care given to the participants and having a front row seat to the racers navigating the locals.

The racecourse is along the coast of Australia crossing rich fishing grounds, shipping routes to Europe and a major oil field. After two weeks of mostly of empty ocean, silent radio traffic and empty Charts today has been entertaining. The safety net ranges from the marine rescue radio network who now have a chorus of coastal voices ready to help. The search and rescue aircraft patrolling the edge of the fleet, occasionally asking for a radio check from a vessel. Even our cell phone 80 miles offshore suddenly showed a new SOS text function, only noticed when the invitation to the family zoom calls began pouring in.

The interaction with the locals were generally a little prickly. The fishermen remind racers them boat towing nets cannot easily maneuver. Mostly sheepish silence in return. One racer calls a pipe laying vessel to get them to change course for him. .Then there were the reminders from the cargo ships of the 1 mile exclusion zone. Discourse between the racers was equally entertaining. The voice of a man clearly used to being in charge calls the adjacent boat, “I believe we are going to collide. Will you change course?.” with the response “we do not see it that way.” Or “Another gruff commanding voice “you will take our stern correct?” With the response from a young voice from a radio operator with the less glamorous job of sitting below responding”let me ask.”

As the wind builds we see some boats turn toward our destination, Eden. It is the last port before the notorious Bass Straits where 50 knot winds are predicted tonight and tomorrow. A long slender classic boat turn while a vessel our size continues. We are happy to be heading towards port. The radio goes silent as the fleet moves south except for the Kowa and Nefarious. Kowa has lost her rudder, possibly to striking a container and Nefarious is the rescue vessel that will tow her to harbor.

At the end of the evening watch a dark triangular shape emerges from the western cloud bank against the orange afterglow. Land Ho!