Team Cassiopeia!!

I haven’t posted anything since June, but that does not mean that this past summer was not chock-full of sailing. In fact I think that is actually the reason I haven’t posted. Now that I am up in the mountains reflecting on an amazing “season” of sailing and racing, I thought I would share about what my amazing team accomplished this season. You have read about them before, but this year everyone stepped up their game and we were on fire beyond my wildest dreams!

 When forming Team Cassiopeia in 2018, I had one mission: to foster an environment of learning and support. I was adamant that here would be no yelling, no egos, and no unkind criticism. This wasn’t too hard with a group of women, but I was dead serious about it, and the ladies supported my mission. The skill level on our team ranged from our tactician, who is a life long racer (and all around badass), to me, an experienced sailor with little buoy racing experience, to experienced race crew, to relatively new sailors with no racing experience. We all showed up honestly with our strengths and our areas that needed nurturing and growth. 

 Our first season in the 2018 Sunset Series was a steady upward trajectory of learning and honing our flow as a team. Every single member of the team consistently gave their all, and put their egos aside to absorb whatever new skills or information would make them a better sailor and crew. There was something new to learn on every race. This includes me, for I did not have any experience at the helm in races like this before last year, and I had a lot to learn. 

 As we entered our second season of the Sunset Series, we were becoming a well-oiled machine. As such, we were able to push ourselves harder and improve individually and as a team. Every woman brought her all from day one, through every race. The seamless blend of tenacity and humility of each of these women, is what earned us a first place in our class in the 2019 Sunset Series, and 2nd place overall (of both cruising A and B). I am so grateful to each woman on our team, and to our mentors and fellow racers who pushed us to always reach higher. Experiencing this extraordinary group of women grow into the competitive team we are today has been one of the greatest joys and sources of pride in my life. These women are my soul sisters and my confidantes. We are so blessed to not only sail and race together, but to share our lives and hearts! Love reigns supreme aboard Cassiopeia, and I sincerely believe that that is our recipe for success!

A special shout out goes to our tactician, Carrie Linskey Peters, without whom we would not have achieved all that we have in the past 2 years. Her expertise and unique coaching methods are the driving force behind our success on the racecourse. She calls tactics like nobody’s business and coaches the entire team with love, encouragement, and just the right amount of ass kicking!. I know that I am a much better helmswoman and racer because of her. I would sail anywhere with her.

A little history on this team (have I mentioned how much I love them all????!!!!)…..

Tactician:

Carrie Linskey Peters grew up racing dinghies in Marina Del Rey at Cal Yacht Club. She also had the opportunity to race side by side with her Dad, Jim Linskey, a well known rigger and experienced racer, on many larger race boats. Her mad skills come from all of her dinghy experience, and also from absorbing knowledge from her dad and other racing legends around Marina Del Rey. She went on to race at UC Irvine. Though she took a hiatus from sailing to raise her kiddos, she has not skipped a beat! Sailing and racing is in her veins! There is no-one like Carrie…she just knows things in her bones, and as she directs us, we all absorb this innate knowledge and are able to grow exponetially as sailors and racers.

Lara Jacques was our original tactician, and we miss her dearly. She is a badass and has so much knowledge about sailing and racing. Together we conquered our fears about stepping up our game as we launched team Cassiopeia in 2018. I am forever grateful to her and cherish her beyond words!

Genoa Trimmers:

Monica Viera jumped into sailing by buying a boat. I met her at 5 years ago at the inspection of her lovely vessel (a Hunter 31 named Ixchel). Since then, Monica has pushed herself and has become a very capable skipper and an extraordinary crew aboard Cassiopeia. Her strength is unmatched, and she can trim in my huge Genny like nobody’s business!! Watching her grow as a sailor has been a great honor and pleasure.

Paula Paige is relatively new to sailing, but you would never know that, because it seems to be something that was in her all along. She understands and executes the nuances of sail trim with the skill of someone who has done it for years. Paula will be a boat owner soon, and I have no doubt will be singlehanding all over before we know it!

Main:

Gabriella Dorsen has been called the swiss army knife of our boat. She and I have sailed and cruised many miles together, and I would sail with her anywhere. She has a knack for fixing things, and can adapt to any role on the boat with ease. She has become quite a main trimmer, and an integral part of our crew. We always feel her absence when she cannot race with us.

Foredeck:

Debbi Juster came to us with racing experience on other boats. She is the oldest member of our crew, but you would never know it, becasue she is stronger than most of us and moves around like a woman half her age. She has a wonderful attitude, and always has a joke and lots of love to share.

Jana Davis was finally able to join our team permanently this past season! We are so glad. She keeps us focused and brings lots of foredeck experience and all around racing knowledge. She offers a fresh and thoughtful perspective that helps me see a bigger picture.

Roamer and Tactician assistant:

Robin Mohilner brings joy and lightness to our crew. Her infectious laugh and enthusiasm lifts us all up. She has been asked to fill many roles, and always does so with joy and willingness to learn.

Cat Harbor Layover :: Double-handing with Carrie Linskey Peters

I have been hearing about the Cat Harbor Layover race for years, though for some reason, I had never done it until this year. It is the 4th and 5th race in the William Berger, William Stein race series put on by Del Rey Yacht Club. My crew weren’t available for the race, which gave Carrie and I a perfect opportunity to double-hand in preparation for all of PSSA’s summer races. 

We set off on Friday morning, very excited about the weekend, and pretty much on top of our game. I felt prepared and we were both excited to get out there and push ourselves. We would have done really well on that 1st race if I hadn’t messed up (UNDERSTATEMENT) our start. I misunderstood the order of starts and thought our class was separated, so we missed starting by 5 minutes with all of our competitors. We didn’t let it get us down though, and even managed to pass a couple of them along the way to the west end of Catalina Island. As the day went on, the wind started to die, which made the finish very elusive and much like the end of a rainbow that we would never reach. When we were a mile from the finish the wind shut down altogether and we were literally drifting, tweaking our sails to capture what little wind there was. That’s when we decided a cockpit dance party was in order. We had one big boat on our hip drifting along, and someone in front of us who had already retired due to the lack of wind. Turns out dancing in the cockpit was just the ticket, because we were miraculously able to pull ahead of the big boat behind us and finish the race.  By the time we got to Cat Harbor, it was after 8:30pm and we were beat. Did I mention I brought my dog along? Well I did, and she was dying for a pee, and we had to scramble to get the dinghy inflated, our boat put away, and our food ready to take to shore . By the time I finally did get food, I was” hangry” as all get out, but with a little burger in me, I started to feel myself (thanks Carrie for feeding me)! It was fun to see everyone at the DRYC facility, though we were so late, that we only caught the tail end. Which was fine with us, because we were BEAT and our bunks were calling our names!!

Sunday morning was beautiful, and none of us wanted to leave. Catalina can cast a spell like that for sure. We readied ourselves despite our reticence, and what ensued was one of the best days sailing I have ever had! We had 2 knots of wind at the start, and this time we were starting in a split class. Thank God because ….18 big boats floating around the line with little maneuverability would have been an adventure to say the least. We ghosted across the line with the first few boats and set our gennaker right away. As we did this, the wind came up and we started scooting along. The rest of the day was basically a drag race all the way home, rolling people then being rolled back, trying to catch the Rascals (team Rascal) ahead of us. It was a blast. We flew the gennaker until we finished, and that sail proved to be very versatile as we had her everywhere form a close reach to a broad reach, and her performance never waivered. With only two of us in the boat, we both had to be on top of our game all day. There was barely time or a way to eat. I steered most of the way, while Carrie played our main like a boss, and did a million other things (including feeding me AGAIN). I was able to trim the Gennaker while I steered, and we kept Cassiopeia moving out! By the time we finished, we were both in a state of utter exhaustion. The last time I felt that tired was in the middle of the Pacific. Double handing in these races is challenging in itself, but, because we aren’t permitted to use our autopilot at all, as we can in the PSSA races, there is no rest. We sure felt it, but were both so happy and fulfilled out there! I am so grateful for Carrie and her expertise and for keeping me laughing!. Our teamwork is seamless, and we compliment each other so well. I cannot wait for more races this summer!

Another Bishop Rock Race Aborted

This was the 2nd time I have attempted to set sail alone for Bishop Rock in PSSA’s race of the same name. The first time was three years ago aboard Haunani, and a few days ago it was aboard my spirited girl, Cassiopeia. When I re-read my post  about my aborted attempt to do the race three years ago, I was hit hard by how much has changed since then. The most obvious difference is my boat. To say that Cassiopeia and  Haunani  are different animals, would be a gross understatement. Cassiopeia is a powerhouse, not unlike an eager young thoroughbred at the starting gates. Haunani was more like a gracefully aging quarter horse, solid, dependable and sure to take care of you when things got squirrely. The other huge change is me. I am a much more competent sailor than I was three years ago. My threshold is higher, and my skills are more developed and ingrained. It feels good to acknowledge that, but since I am committed to always learning and growing, this does not mean I can sit back on my laurels either. It instead means that I am constantly upping the game. Friday afternoon did not disappoint in that department. We had 22-25 knot winds with seven foot swells at the start. It was lively to say the least!

 As the race day approached, I felt very prepared and centered. All lists had been gone through and all safety preparations and provisioning carefully attended to. Cassiopeia and I were ready, and I had just the right amount of nervous energy flowing through me to keep me sharp. This race was to be an important shakedown for Cassiopeia and me.  It would have been our first trip offshore (past Catalina), and would have served as a qualifier for the Guadalupe Island race in March. As I wrote about in my last post, we had a lot to do to get ready, and it was all go in order to get it done. One of the things I did, was to have a new inner stay with a furling staysail installed. I was very excited to try it out, and Mary Ellen was literally working until the moment I pushed off the dock to get it done.

AT the 11th hour, the staysail was up, and I released my dock lines, and pulled out of my slip. I was backed in, so this was not the usual routine. As I pulled out, the wind that was steadily coming up pushed us fast toward the boats on the other side of the basin. I had to bust out some serious Austin Powers moves to keep from hitting any of my neighbors. And so the snafus began…

So, I shake that off, and head out of the basin taking a few deep breaths. I engage my autopilot (remember I just put my NKE autopilot computer on this boat) and head forward to remove my fenders. I cruise back to the helm to adjust the direction of the boat a tad to continue my routine of putting lines and things away. Well, the autopilot has other ideas, and doesn’t disengage. I am heading straight towards docked boats and I could not get control of my helm. I throttled back and tried again, and by the grace of God, something shifted and the clutch disengaged. I have my helm again. OK, more deep breaths. It’s ok, these things happen, and we take them in stride and move forward. I see all the PSSA boats heading out, and I feel a sense of excitement and camaraderie as I always do at the start of these races. I turn the corner into the main channel and set about hoisting my mainsail…something I have done hundreds of times with ease and flow. I head forward to jump the halyard and get about 2 pulls in when I realize that all of the lines at my mast are tangled. Dammit! In the flurry of activity on my boat in the 11th hour, trying to get the staysail working, I hadn’t remembered to check it all after the mainsail (with its new 3rd reef) was re-installed. I assumed it was all as it usually is, and THAT was a huge mistake. It took me three tries and mad untangling to get everything dialed in and get the sail up.

I ended up putting a reef in as I did this, because by this time the wind was up to 18 knots, and Cassiopeia likes to be reefed in anything over 15, especially when I am alone. No problem. I am the reefing queen, I can reef my sail in about 4 minutes flat most of the time. Well, not this time. The reefing lines were criss-crossed and my usual tidy beautiful reef looked like crap, and it was not right. By this time I am almost to the breakwater, and as I pass its protective mass, I am immediately greeted by the 7 foot swells of the day, and the now 20+ knot wind. I set about re-rigging my reef lines. That’s ok, shit happens….deep breaths. As Cassiopeia hobby horsed dramatically on the swells, I tried to get ahold of the lines on the bobbing boom to re-tie them and straighten it all out. I finally got it done, but my reef still was not up to par, and as all the other boats passed me with their tidy perfect reefs in place, I felt so annoyed with myself for not double checking these lines either. I assumed again that everything would be as I usually leave it. Now I am sweating and swearing and trying to shake it all off. I am under power still, with no headsail, and in this wind and swell it is a bit of a push to get out to the starting area.

As we make our way out there, I have a talk with myself and remind myself to forgive myself my mistakes and oversights, shake it off and move forward. Be in the moment! I arrive at the starting area and start the zig zagging and maneuvering that everyone goes through in preparation to head out. I got centered and rolled out my staysail. It was perfect! A perfect sail for this wind, and I was making use of the self-tacker that is on my boat, which made maneuvering amongst the racers in these conditions so easy. YES! I was so excited! We got in the groove and made our last tack to line up for the start, and SMACK. The staysail fell to the deck in a dramatic collapse. WHAT????? Deep breath number 497….thats ok, we can use the Genoa reefed, and it will all be ok. So, I set my autopilot, careful to choose a trajectory that does not include crossing paths with any of the 15 other boats tacking around me, and head up to the foredeck . The bow was soaked and pounding, and as I tied up the sail to get it out of the way, I took multiple face shots of sea water, and was quickly soaked to the bone. Thank goodness I was sweaty and hot, despite the now 22-25 knots of wind. It felt kind of good, actually. I scooted my way back to the cockpit across wet, slippery decks and heaving boat. Ahhh…this is what it’s all about! Even the challenges are exhilarating! I looked at my watch. It was time to start and I wasn’t near the line. I had no headsail up. Shit, ok, let’s head to the line and roll out the Genny. Sounds easy right? Well, there is a reason I wanted a smaller headsail, because that Genoa in wind like this is a nightmare to deploy, especially alone. I furled her out to a suitable reef point, and headed for the start line. The sail was flogging (think dollars flying out the door) and I was doing my danmdest to trim her in WHILE steering to jockey myself into position to cross the stern of the rabbit boat.  It was what I like to call a good old fashioned cluster f**k. I have attached a video of this moment below, taken by my friend. It was also posted on social media earning some commentary about my sail trim. All I can say to that is that when you’re sailing alone you do things at a different pace, and you also pick your battles. Don’t worry, the sail was trimmed shortly after this was taken :-).

I am wet, sweaty and bruised by this time, and most of the fleet is ahead of me by a long shot. I get the sail trimmed and we start moving out! Yes!! Cassiopeia is flying through the swells at almost 8 knots, and I can sit and breathe for a moment. It is more like panting, but who is splitting hairs here? I chug some much needed water, and survey the scene. The boat is under control, and the autopilot is steering her well. I am fine, despite my disheveled state. As I survey the boat, I see my spinnaker bag dangling over the leeward bow. I had rigged the spinnaker and lashed the bag up forward the day before, when the wind predictions were not as they actually were in this moment, and again, in my haste to leave and help with last minute rigging stuff, I didn’t think to remove it and stow it down below. So now, the bag is hanging on by its clips and lashing and filling with water. One clip has already torn off the bag and I have to get it back on deck before the sail comes out of the bag and causes more mayhem. I could tack to make it so the bag is on the windward side, but if I do that I will have had to furl the Genny (NO THANK YOU) because of the inner stay. SO I have to haul it out as it is. I head the boat almost into the wind to slow her down, clip on and go onto the foredeck. It is NOT fun, to say the least. I am slipping to leeward, taking huge face shots and my tether is stuck somewhere. I try to pull on the bag anyhow, but I am sure it weighs over 100 pounds with all the water inside. It is impossible to budge. I grab my spinnaker halyard and hook it onto the bag and start hoisting. Thank GOD for the winch that I just installed on my mast, because without it, I would never have gotten that sail out of the water. I crank and crank, and finally, in what feels like an eternity, I get it on the deck. I secure it in a better spot and head aft again. Now I am really wet, starting to get cold and I am shivering. I get the boat moving again, and she loves it. But now, the fleet is so far ahead of me that I have no chance of catching them. I know I have to get out past San Clemente before a certain time to avoid being becalmed in an approaching high pressure system, and I feel defeated and disheartened.

 Was the boat under control? Yes. Could I have gone on? Yes. Was everything ok? Yes. But I was mentally and physically exhausted by this time, and I was only a couple of hours in. I started to feel queasy and even worse, dizzy, and everything felt impossible. I cried. I yelled. I thought about it. Finally, I closed my eyes and tuned into my intuition, and asked what I should do. The answer was clear as a bell. Go home, regroup and try again later when you are more centered. I called the race committee, retired, and headed Cassiopeia for home. It was a bittersweet decision, but it felt right. We flew back to the marina at 8 knots, surfing big swells giving me a chance to clear my head and respect myself for my decision. I pulled into my slip with a sense of relief ……..and then disbelief, because the wind was so strong that I had to keep the boat in gear to even jump off and get a dock line onto a cleat. My final test by mother nature that day at least got a laugh out of me, and not much more than a bow scuff on Cassiopeia.

It took me a long time to clean up the mayhem of my boat after those few hours. Being exhausted didn’t help my cause, but the routine of it was grounding, and by the time I left Cassiopeia all nestled in her slip, I felt at peace with the day.

 I spent the following day fixing all that went awry, going through my rigging and set up with a fine toothed comb. I hoisted my main and reefed it in the slip at all three points, making sure the lines were clear, I checked and double checked the runs of all of the other lines, and helped Mary Ellen fix my staysail furler. I went for a practice sail and all is in order again. I will leave Saturday morning to go offshore again, this time on my own, and not in a race. I have to qualify for Guadalupe Island by sailing 125nm solo. I am looking forward to heading out in a more centered frame of mind and with a boat that is set up exactly as I like it. I have nothing to prove except to myself, and that is one of my biggest lessons in solo sailing.

 Here are a few takeaways from Friday’s adventures:

1.     ALWAYS double check everything before leaving the dock. Don’t ASSUME!

2.     Take 100% ownership for everything on the boat, even if someone else was onboard fixing stuff.

3.     Practice, practice, practice, especially on extreme weather days.

4.     Always trust my gut.

5.     Know when to push and when to step back….again, trust my gut!

 5 boats out of 16 finished the race, so I was not alone, but I am quite sure I was the first to tap out.

This would have been my course for the day. 165nm

Yes, I KNOW my Genoa is flogging...I had just deployed it and was rushing forward to trim it as I started. Video by my friend Ray.

mayhem in the cockpit after returning

My compadres’ tracks about half way into the race

Offshore Prep :: Cassiopeia and I are almost ready!

There is a familiar sense of excitement bubbling up in me right now. Preparations have begun in earnest to get Cassiopeia and me ready to go offshore this winter leading up to our big trip to Hawaii in the 2020 Shaka Challenge. As much as Hawaii is a big goal, I am learning that singlehanding the Guadalupe Island race in March might trump it in intensity and personal challenge (or so I have been warned).  All warnings have been taken under advisement, and I am committed to doing it anyway……..typical ! The fire in my belly grows every day, as the reality of going offshore again becomes palpable. I have the drive to push myself and learn more deeply about what it takes to be out there alone. I am excited to feel Cassiopeia step up to a new challenge as well. After 2 1/2 years, I know her so well now, and I am finally ready to venture over the horizon with her as my steed.

PSSA’s famed Guadalupe Island race takes place every two years and is touted by almost every veteran I have talked to as a huge challenge, and one which they would think twice about undertaking again. It is 650nm and the course is from Marina Del Rey to Guadalupe Island, Mexico and back to Catalina Island. The run to Guadalupe is usually downwind, and can be quite pleasant. It is the beat back up the coast that is reputed to be a huge ass kicking. Over 300nm of upwind sailing at a time of year when huge winds are likely. Is it weird that I am actually excited for this?

Bishop Rock and Guadalupe Island are Category 2 and 1 offshore races, respectively, so I have a laundry list of items to check off in preparation. There will be an inspection of Cassiopeia to make sure that we are in compliance for each race. Most of the items are safety related, including a life raft, which thankfully, I already own. I’ll attach a list below to give an idea of what else is required. Needless to say, with 3 weeks left until Bishop Rock, I am in turbo project mode to get ready. Bishop Rock will be a great shakedown sail for Guadalupe Island in March. It is 165 nm round trip, straight out from Marina Del Rey and around the rock at the notorious Cortez bank and back to Catalina.

Given the challenging conditions I will likely be facing offshore, I have made some additions to boat. The fist thing I dealt with was my sail plan, with the expert support of my friend and longtime sailmaker, Oliver McCann, of UK Sailmakers. Oliver has been making my sails since 2004, and I trust him implicitly. Here’s what we decided: I am finally putting 3rd reef points in my mainsail. I am having a new furling Gennaker made for reaching (and ease of deployment), and I am also cutting down and re-purposing my 98% jib (that came with my boat) to be used with a furler on a semi permanent inner stay. This will help (especially upwind) when winds are high and I am unable to use my giant 140% Genoa. That genny is awesome, and I am able to reef it on its furler, but I have found that in higher wind (20+), it is more than a handful to reef, and I would rather have a smaller sail altogether. The inner stay will also serve as the stay for my storm jib if I should need it. 

My friend and rigger, Mary Ellen Rose is, as always, guiding me and installing all things rigging. To support my new sail plan, we are installing a Mariner furling system as the inner stay, which is an old but reliable system, and most importantly to me, can be retracted when not in use. There is a lot that goes along with the new sails, and Mary Ellen will be setting me up with all of the rigging necessary for the additions. A little side note about Mary Ellen: She is a true badass, and a huge inspiration to me. She has been a rigger in the marina for a very long time, and started at a time when women riggers were not the norm (they still aren’t, by the way, at least not around here). She has held her own in a male dominated field, and is a wealth of information. She will never lead you astray and is always looking for practical ways to achieve your goals. I highly recommend her. Every time we work together, I learn so much. Not only is she a badass rigger, but she is a wonderful human being, and I adore her!

Last but not least on my list of super cool additions to Cassiopeia, is a Hydrovane self-steering vane. This vane is incredible and has a stellar reputation around the world. Its design is simple and powerful and will handily steer my big boat in all conditions without using any power. A very important feature for me is that it can also be used as an emergency rudder if needed. Category 1 races (Guadalupe Island and Hawaii) require an emergency rudder, so this amazing device kills 2 birds with one stone (I really hate that saying). Everyone I have talked to, and all of the reviews I have read, rave about the Hydrovane and it’s efficacy and dependability. I am very excited to try it out!  We are laying out the installation as I write this, and I should have it working by Bishop Rock. Beyond all this, I really only have one large project left (famous last words), which is to install the drive unit and brain of my NKE autopilot. Both of these projects are being headed up by Jerome Sammarcelli (the guy who roped me into all this singlehanded offshore sailing in the first place) of Sailutions USA, with me as his (hopefully) helpful assistant. 

It is the dawn of a new chapter in my sailing experiences, and I can feel it. There are new challenges to face, new things to learn adn new distances to be traveled. I am ready and fired up to dive in and see where this journey continues to take me.

 Guadalupe Island Preview

Ship Rock and Return :: a PSSA Race

From the starting line located approx. 1.0NM at 164°M from the south end of the MdR detached breakwater, pass El Segundo buoy "ES2" to port, round Ship Rock to port and proceed to the finish. The finish line will be delimited by 2 GPS waypoints. The starboard end of the line is located at 33°44.480N, 118°26.474W. The port end of the line is located at 33°44.482N 118°27.124W. The line runs at 078°M from Pt Vicente Light. If a GPS can not be used, finish when the Point Vicente Light (at position 33°44.500N, 118°24.638W) is within 1.5NM but NO further than 2NM and bears 078°M from the helmsman's position. The skipper shall take his (or HER :-) ) own finish time. Handicap distance 46NM.

Boat preparations permitting ( my NKE Autopilot and/or new Hydrovane installed, and battery issues resolved), I have committed to myself to do all of the PSSA winter races. The first was this past Saturday, and it was a great shakedown race. We had one of our best turn-outs in a long time (and the best ever in my history with PSSA), with 22 boats at the starting line. We have many new members, and they were well represented in this race, which to me, is very exciting and promising! There were 13 double-handed boats, and 9 single-handed, of which I was one. We were all worried about the wind forecast, but the day proved to be consistent even if it was mostly light. 

Charles Calkins' Class 40 was the rabbit boat, with Jerome Sammarcelli as crew. Once they started the race, they hoisted a full set of sails and promptly left us all in the dust. We saw very light wind for most of the day, and most boats had their asymmetrical spinnakers flying. I panicked when I saw this, realizing that I had forgotten mine in my storage locker. My trusty 140% genoa turned out to do the trick though, as I was able to hold my own in the light air. I am always amazed at how Cassiopeia scoots her 15,000 pound self along in such light air. She really blows me away.

It felt so good to be out on the water again, and to be alone on my boat. I love my crew and my friend, but being alone out there evokes something that cannot occur when others are with me. A sense of peace, autonomy and confidence sets in that I find nowhere else in my life. My favorite part of the day was approaching Ship Rock at dusk with a full moon rising. I was chasing my friend, Bill Ziel on Aloha, as I had been most of the day. He peeled out once around the rock, and as I came around, Rod Percival on Rubicon III ghosted in beside me, as only he can do. Once I rounded the rock, the wind came up for awhile, providing one of the most magical evenings of sailing I have had in a long time. Cassiopeia was in her element, reaching along at 7 knots as the sky grew dark and the full moon illuminated our course. At one point, I heard a breathing sound in the dark, and realized that my boat was surrounded by dolphins. They were playing in my bow wake and leaping about on all sides of me. They cruised with me for at least 5 minutes which added to an already mind-blowing scene.

The wind started to lighten up considerably about half way to the finish. Rod was on my tail, and I knew this could mean only one thing....that he would be passing me soon. Sure enough, about 2 miles from the finish, in true Rod fashion, he passed me in 3 knots of wind like it was nothing. I chased him to the finish, which got farther and farther away (or so it seemed) with the dwindling wind. Wind or no wind, the night took my breath away, and reminded me why I love to be at sea alone. The solace, and feeling of connection with nature and the universe is incomparable. The past couple of years have been really hard on me, especially the past 6 months. I have struggled to find light and joy in most things, but being on the boat, gliding along under the full moon was an immediate balm for my heart and soul. I felt true deep joy for the first time in months. I hooted and hollered, laughed, cried and shouted my deep prayers of gratitude into the wind for this amazing opportunity for growth and healing. Not only do these experiences make me a better sailor, but they make me a more connected person.

Congratulations to Tom Wilson on his Hobie 33 who smoked everyone in the singlehanded division, and Charles and Jerome who took 1st in the double handed division. I placed 4th in the singlehanded division in the preliminary results (though this may change, as I just received my renewed PHRF certificate the night I got home, and they have changed my rating…..long story). In the end, my place doesn’t matter to me. What does matter is the experience, and my consistent improvement as a sailor and racer against all of my heroes. As always, I am deeply honored to be in the company of such accomplished and brave sailors. To race side by side with my mentors and friends inspires me to no end, and I am very grateful for such a unique opportunity. Our next race is Bishop Rock, which is about 170 nm round trip. This will step things up a few notches, as well as prepare me for Guadalupe Island in March (EEEK!).

Love Wins :: The Secret of a Successful Team

I was asked to give a little talk tonight at the Women’s Sailing Association of Santa Monica Bay (WSA). They had a speaker cancel so it was very last minute notice. Thankfully it is a casual crowd!  I will be speaking side by side with one of my favorite humans and sailing mentors, Kathy St Amant, to a group of women and men whom I admire and respect greatly. Needless to say, I feel very honored. They asked us to speak about racing in The Sunset Series, and our experiences of what it takes to put together a crew and campaign our boats. Since it is my first season, and Kathy’s umpteenth, we will have mostly different perspectives to share, but I believe that the common thread will be the way we view our crews and the experience of being on the water.

When I decided to race this year, I knew that I wanted an all-woman crew. People often ask me why, and my response is always the same. I am passionate about getting more women on the water, and what better way to contribute to that than starting with my own boat! Plus, I knew that it would be a positive experience, even before we gathered for our first race. I had a hunch that we would foster an environment of peace and mutual respect, that  we would have respectful communication, that we would lift each other up and support each other at all times, and, that there would be no yelling. Well, the no yelling thing is actually a rule on my boat, but I had a feeling that I would never have to enforce it! 

Please know that I have nothing against sailing with men, and in fact, I love it most of the time, and many of my mentors are men. I will say though, that sailing with an all-female crew is a pleasantly different experience than sailing with a mostly male crew. The energy is generally softer, kinder, more uplifting, more positive and more centered around personal and team growth. I am sold!! I chose my team based on the variety of experience we all encompassed, and the potential for us all to learn and grow together. The biggest “secret” about choosing my team was in choosing key people who were experienced racers who could guide our team, mentor me, and help me to become a better sailor. 

This is actually one of my secrets in life: Always surround myself with people who know more. This pushes me to learn and to always do better. I love being mentored and I love mentoring. This is why I chose my team the way I did. I fell in the middle of the spectrum on racing experience, and the circular nature of our mutual inspiration was amazing!

As I think about what I will talk about tonight, I think of all that my crew taught me. From the badass racers that are my tacticians to the less experienced racers (badasses in their own right), each woman taught me so many things! Things about: my boat, sailing, repairs, love, friendship, bravery, humor, sail trim, and humility. Every one of us showed up with an empty cup every day. We showed up open to what we had to learn from each other. Every one of us consistently extended love and warmth to each other and across the water to our competitors (even the ones who didn’t offer that in return).  This makes me more proud than any trophy or standing we could have won.

 As I wrote about in my last post, our season, and the experience of sailing with these amazing women surpassed every hope and expectation I had. To quote  Carrie, It was “pure fu*king MAGIC”!

I have officially been bitten by the racing bug, and am very excited for all of the adventures that await Team Cassiopeia and me! Our motto is Love Wins, and I can attest that it surely does!

Team Cassiopeia :: Our Last Race of The Season

Last night was our last race of the season in The Cal Yacht Club Sunset Series. I am so proud of our team. We finished 5th overall in our class (out of 19) in our first season as a team and my first season as a skipper in buoy racing. When we came together, we all brought different skills and levels of experience, and as the weeks went on, those were channeled into the well-oiled machine that is now our team. When we crossed the finish line last night, we were one, and that came from weeks of learning and growing together. 

Everyone came so far, and we came so far as a team. Through the support of these magnificent women, I became a better driver, leader and human. I witnessed each woman come into her own in her unique way: Gabriella, the “swiss army knife” Dorsen became a beast on the winches, was able to fix anything that tripped us up, and brought her unique magical light to us each every day! Carrie “fire eyes” Peters, stepped back into her natural place of power and strength as a sailor and tactician, and coached us all into being better, stronger and gnarlier! Debbi brought humor, wisdom and a calm energy to us all. She stepped into main trim and became a solid disciple of ole fire eyes on the intricacies of that role! Robin “bow rider” Mohilner graced us with her passion and pure light. She documented our adventures in imagery and words (see this video below and you’ll know what I mean). She stepped into whatever role was asked of her, and did it with grace and enthusiasm! Paula trimmed the genny and spinnaker with intuition and focus, and by the end, the finesse of a pro. Lara is no longer sailing with us, but she started our season out with a bang as our fearless tactician! Not only did we all become better sailors, but we became sisters. I count each of these beautiful women as my best friends and soul sisters. I have grown so much as a result of our friendship and connection, and to me that transcends everything else. Sailing is amazing, racing is fun, winning is wonderful, but the love and connection we all have is the ultimate blessing of this team.

Rumi says “be with those who help your being”….thank you my sisters for lifting me up and reminding me who I am and of that which I am capable! Thank you for being mirrors for everything from the tactical to the deeply personal. I am forever grateful to you all. I look so forward to our next adventures!!!! I LOVE YOU!

Pt. Dume and Return :: A Wonderful Day on The Water!

Photo by TAMI RAE of LOADED CANON

To say our team is flying high after Saturday’s race, would be an understatement. Not only was it an incredible experience on the water, but we placed 4th out of 12 boats in a class of very accomplished and experienced racers. I entered this class because I knew we wanted to use our spinnaker, and I erroneously thought the other class was non-spinnaker. I also am more comfortable with this kind of longer distance race, so it didn’t feel quite as intimidating as the shorter buoy races. That being said, I also knew we were jumping in with the big dogs! As nervous as this made me, I felt it would be a good way to push ourselves! And push ourselves we did!

The start was very exciting, as we were much more in the mix than usual, and there were more boats (or so it seemed). My nerves were holding up pretty well until I found myself sandwiched in tight quarters between two boats with skippers at the helm whom I know and admire. All of a sudden my belly was doing flips and my knees were shaking. Despite my nerves, we maneuvered well, and it felt good. I have to commend Lara on her strategy and coaching at the start, as we definitely had one of our best! The only thing that I regret is that I couldn’t get up to speed like I wanted to after we crossed the line, and we were quickly left in the dust. Not for long though, because we tacked away from everyone and out to sea (which was Lara’s and my original plan based on our gut feeling and research of wind prediction before the race).

This proved to be a good call, as we moved really well up the coast towards Malibu staying outside. The breeze was stiff (up to 20 knots at times) and at one point we became very overpowered as my boat often gets. I tried reefing the headsail first based on a recommendation of my sailmaker, but quickly found that my original thought of reefing the main and keeping the genoa out was a better call. Once we did this, we started pulling away from the boats around us, and were able to point again. We had to shake out the reef about 30 minutes later as the wind came down to 9-11 knots, but that decision to reef gained us considerable headway. As we got close to our mark in Malibu, the wind dropped to almost nothing, and it seemed that we, and all of the boats around us came to a screeching halt. As we prepared to tack around the buoy, Lara wanted me to tack tight in front of another boat, and I wouldn’t (couldn’t). She was a beautiful wooden boat, and I was convinced I was going to hit her if I tacked that close. As much as I trust Lara, this was a time when I had to let my own feelings take over. She assures me we wouldn’t have hit (and I do believe her), but she also reassured me that she respects when I need to over-ride her based on my own comfort level. This is an example of what I LOVE about our boat. We are always communicating and clarifying, so we can all grow and keep a calm respectful vibe on the boat.

After we rounded the mark at Malibu, we headed out to sea again on the hunt for pressure. Once we found it, Jana and the foredeck team got the spinnaker up and flying.  Jana Davis doesn’t normally sail with us (even though I wish upon a star every day that she could), but she was able to on this race. She is a foredeck wizard and an all-around amazing human being.  She brought all kinds of knowledge, humor and good juju to our boat, and we are so grateful for her! We were able to run down the coast at a good clip for a while with our spinnaker full and in doing so, we were neck and neck with some great boats. We have an asymmetrical spinnaker, so we were unable to head as deep as we needed to and we started to head away from our mark (out to sea) more than I was comfortable with. That coupled with the wind dropping a bit lead Lara and me to the decision of losing the spinnaker and heading dead downwind, wing and wing to our mark. This was apparently the ticket and what I believe actually made the difference for us in placing as well as we did. We started moving well, and making a solid course towards our last mark at the breakwater. Right about at this point, Tami Rae of Loaded Canon with Eddie Hollister at the helm of a very badass looking skiff approached us. They zoomed all around us taking pictures while the ladies acted as a human downhaul on the whisker pole (I forgot to rig a downhaul before we left). I have included some of her amazing photos of us below. If you haven’t checked out her work, please do. Her images are beautiful! Please check out her work here. Also, if you want to see more photos from the day or buy prints, the link for her gallery from this race is here. Also, I will have an interview featuring her coming soon to my blog!

It just after this that we heard a “mayday” over the VHF. Our hearts all skipped a beat and our boat went silent as we realized that one of the boats in our race had lost a crew overboard. They had also lost their rudder and were unable to get to her. The mood aboard Cassiopeia became very somber as we all listened intently and sent out prayers for her speedy retrieval from the chilly sea. We were too far to have been able to help, and there were other boats closer, so all we could do was to continue sailing and hold her, and their crew in our prayers. You could have heard our collective cheers and screams from far away as we heard that she had been pulled out of the water by a fellow racer. It gave us all pause and generated a hearty conversation about PFD’s and boat safety. We are so happy that she is ok!

As we got close to the last mark, all of the boats that had been in front of us on the spinnaker run were now behind us. It wasn’t a huge lead, but it was big enough for us to be able to round the mark first and make it to the finish line before them. It was very exciting as we all converged and tried to finish a race in little to no wind. Making it to that last mark basically consisted of the waves pushing us there. The wind came up just enough for us to power up to the finish. We finished within inches of another boat which was extremely exhilarating!

As we cranked up the engine and headed down the channel for home, we were passed by Whitney Green on Pacific. Whitney shouted out, “nice race Margie”! I was completely blown away and humbled by this. We have only met a few times, and I’m sure she doesn’t realize that I have always looked up to her from afar. Her words meant so much to me and were the icing on the cake of a wonderful day!

As we toasted our day and had our ritual debriefing in my cockpit, I looked around at these strong and unique women with such gratitude and awe. Each had given everything they had all day long, and together we sailed a great race. We didn’t know how we had placed at this point, but we felt so happy with how we sailed, and our collective joy lit up my slip!  The theme of the day seemed to be trusting our intuition. I know that the few times that I trusted my gut and made calls based on that, that it proved invaluable. I think Lara had the same experience. I see this as another opportunity for me/us to look at how important it is to sail my own race and not get caught up in technicalities (shoulds, or supposed tos) or what others around us are doing. We proved to ourselves today that following our gut and making calls that may have seemed strange in comparison to our competitors was the right thing for us. In the end, this is a great metaphor for life, no?

All images
by TAMI RAE of LOADED CANON

Light Air and Big Learning Curve

We had our work cut out for us yesterday for our Wednesday night race! The wind was very light, so we knew it was going to be a challenge, and by the end of the evening, we found ourselves in an accelerated learning program for light air sailing! As we headed out, Lara took the helm and did a lot of practice tacks and jibes to get a sense of Cassiopeia's maneuverability. As she did this, I realized I couldn't chicken out anymore....no more crying wolf that Its too tight when she wants me to tack or jibe close to another boat. There was a lot of laughing as I called myself out on my phobia. Joking aside, it was actually a worthwhile thing to do, because I was able to understand the space and maneuverability of my boat in a new way. I finally have hope that I will get over my nerves about this. I called Lara's exercise "desensitization therapy"....and it certainly was.

We were a little late to the line on our start, but had good speed nonetheless considering the conditions, so it turned out OK. The wind stayed light but consistent on the course until we were just about at the windward mark. I was struggling with steering the whole time, and was grateful for all of the experienced sailors on the boat who kept me on point and helped me! Its is so hard to steer in light air, and I am so excited to get better at it. Yesterday was a perfect day to practice! I loved listening to Carrie as she coached the genoa trimmers on sail trim. She was recently called our secret weapon by Neil Fraser (of Mexican Divorce who has known her since she was a kid), and I know he is right! She trims our mainsail like nobody's business, and is always contributing to what is happening on the boat with her extensive knowledge of all things sailing. Once we rounded the mark, it became so light that it was hard to fly our genoa, even with a pole. All of the boats around us were struggling with the same issue, and their crews were performing all kinds of weight shifts, acrobatics and sail configurations to try and eek the most out of essentially NO wind. We would get excited if we started moving at a speed of more than 1.5 knots! It was fun to hear and try my crew's various light air tricks and tips. As the dark of night consumed the post sunset glow, we were almost to the breakwater. At this point we were getting really excited because the wind came up to about 3 knots and we were moving better than we had been in a while. As we rounded the channel markers however, we were back to floating forward at a knot or so. It was so quiet and still, and the sight of all of the die hards around us trying to make it to the finish line by the cut off time was so beautiful. The ladies on the foredeck did their best to pole out our headsail, but in the end human “poling” was what worked best-three ladies holding  the sail out to try and catch any wind that was available. It wasn’t much, but we actually kept moving (though I could have walked faster). If we had had five more minutes, we would have made it to the finish, but alas, 8:30pm rolled around just before we made it.  As we rolled up the headsail and I cranked up the engine, the mood aboard Cassiopeia was enthusiastic and jovial despite the conditions and our DNF! 

We were lucky to have Carliane Johnson aboard our boat as an honorary team member. Carliane is going to take off in about six weeks on a huge adventure that is dear to my heart….the Singlehanded Transpac.  She learned to sail later in life, and is essentially a self-taught sailor, but her tenacity, dedication and resulting mad skills makes it seem like she has been doing it for a lifetime. By throwing herself into racing and single handing at every opportunity, she has become a very admirable sailor and racer. You can read more about her badassery in my interview of her here.

I am blown away more each time I sail with these amazing women. I feel so grateful for each of their energy, wisdom, humor, love, prowess and enthusiasm. I cannot wait for Saturday, when we will be sailing in the Del Rey Yacht Club’s Berger/Stein series, Pt. Dume Return race. Im hoping this year is a little less wild than my experience last year (you can read about that here)! We will be sailing against a lot of very experienced racers and well sailed boats out there, so this will be a wonderful challenge for us!

All photos by Robin Mohilner

Wednesday night racing and our first win!

There exists a very bizarre thing that has been a constant phenomenon in my life. I make vehement proclamations that I’ll never do something, and then next thing you know, I am doing that very thing!!! Two of those examples come from my sailing life. I would tell anyone who would listen that offshore sailing wasn’t for me….”I have no desire to do that”. “I’m just a day sailor” (or at the most, a Catalina voyager). Well, we all know how that turned out! The other thing I would always say is that “I am not a racer”. Somehow I didn’t count PSSA races and then later the SHTP in this statement, mostly because I was out there doing those things for the adventure of it, not the racing aspect.

Well, I have finally admitted that I am indeed a racer, and all of a sudden find myself campaigning Cassiopeia in not only PSSA races, but the sunset series, and the Berger Stein series. I am sure there will be more, because I have definitely gotten bitten by a bug, and I cannot stop the train. I suppose it is in my blood (thanks Pop!), and I cannot deny it anymore!

We have participated in two races in the sunset series so far, and I could not be happier with how we are doing. Our team is amazing, and just as I had hoped, we all bring a variety of experience and know-how to the table. The common thing we share is a desire to support each other in being our best in each moment. There is an air of enthusiasm, mutual support and encouragement each time we all meet, that sets the tone for a positive experience around the race course! It is a safe place for us all to learn and try new things, and I do believe we are all benefiting from that. It feels so good on our boat, that I told them after our last race that I was falling just a little in love with all of them!

Last week, we actually took 1st in our class, and I am excited to see what this week holds for us! I am so proud of this spirited yet humble group of women who grace the decks of my Cassiopeia! As with most things I proclaim I will never do, and then do anyway……I feel that something important is brewing here. For me, I know it is a big shift in perspective and a huge opportunity for growth as a skipper, sailor and teammate!!

Thank you my lovely badass ladies!

Catalina To Port: A PSSA Race

From the starting line located near Palos Verdes buoy "10PV", leave the West End of Catalina to port, finish when Catalina East End light position 33 18.1162N 118 19.0570W is within 0.5 NM and bears 350°M from the helmsman's position. The skipper shall take his (or HER...I added this :-) ) own finish time. Handicap distance 41 NM.

 This is my 3rd year racing in The Pacific Singlehanded Sailing Association’s Catalina to Port race. I doublehanded with my boyfriend, Stephen. It was our first time doing this in a race, and we were very excited about the opportunity to share in this experience. I absolutely love this race, because of the varied conditions and points of sail over the course of a day, but mainly because the backside of Catalina Island is a magical world. It’s uninhabited and dramatic coastline makes one feel light years away from the intense energy of LA. And if you look to the right, you can see my favorite sight of all time, and without obstruction……the horizon over the wild Pacific!

  Our start was at 11am off of Palos Verdes point. I was very happy to see so many boats out there as we approached the PV buoy. We had eight boats all in all, 3 doublehanded, and 5 singlehanded. DIstraxxion, Jeff Coyle’s XP 44 was our rabbit boat. She always takes my breath away when I see her sleek lines and powerful rig! If Jeff weren’t such a wonderful guy, I might feel pretty intimidated by the sight of her!

We had a bit of a rugged start, but once we got on track, we were moving quite well. The winds were light at first, which caused a bit of a confusion for me as we tried to figure out which tack towards the island was favored. We made a mistake by heading out on a port tack for too long. Distraxxion, Velocity  (Thomas' Hobie 33) and Katin (Jason's Jeanneau Sunfast 3200) headed the other direction and it became apparent to us pretty quickly the mistake we had made. One thing I learned from that, is to be more patient when the wind is light, and not feel pressure to DO something about it, but rather to allow it to show me the way. Despite our bad call, we were moving along well towards the island once the wind filled in and we were on a starboard tack, and made it to the west end of Catalina by about 3pm. We rounded the island and headed out to sea for a bit trying to get into a good position for our downwind run towards the East end.  With our spinnaker flying well, filled by a steady breeze, we made good way down the coast (even though I was still kicking myself because knew that the aforementioned three boats had left us in the dust). It was fun to be out there flanked by the rest of the fleet though, who were at various positions around us, flying spinnakers of many colors.

 Brian on Slow Poke (Ranger 23T) kept all of the boats connected and communicating all day by checking in with us to see how we were doing. It was fun to hear how everyone was faring, and especially to get the report from the boats ahead that there was big wind around the point coming into the east end and our finish. We heeded this warning and doused our spinnaker just in time. The wind was up around 20 knots by this time and right on our stern, and we were able to move quite well wing and wing with mainsail and a reefed genoa the rest of the way. At one point (see the video below) I was steering us along towards the finish, and I was overcome with gratitude, not only for the majesty that surrounded me int hat moment, but also for all that I have learned as a sailor in the past four years. So much has happened, and so many lessons have been learned. Some were hard and some were magical, but through them all I am still so blown away that I am able to be out there in the wild blue, surrounded by nature in this way. It brings a tear to my eye as I write this. There is nothing like it anywhere else!

 We finished around 7:30, graced by one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. The sight of the sunset over Church Rock and the East End is probably my favorite thing about this race! Church rock seems the most appropriate name, for I felt I was in the most sacred house of worship in that moment. After we finished, the wind shadow of the island slowed us to a peaceful pace, and we cranked up the engine and headed into Avalon for a much needed and well-deserved meal at the Lobster Trap.

 I am as always, so grateful to PSSA and all of its seasoned sailors for the opportunity and inspiration to learn and grow as a sailor. I am also grateful to Stephen for being such a great teammate and for teaching me so much along the way. I am hoping that my autopilot will be ready for me to singlehand the next race in May, which is the Santa Barbara Island race.

Go Team Cassiopeia!

As much as I love sailing, racing, and buoy racing in particular, has always intimidated me, especially the starts! I think it is a combination of PTSD from so many intense starts and races with my super confident and competitive (read: proficiently aggressive) Dad at the helm, and a lack of confidence with tactics. Longer races are so different, and even in those, I am mainly flying by the seat of my pants (and as I told the race committee who wanted to place me in the more experienced class….being a big chicken at starts and following people over the line). That is slowly changing though, and being a skipper for the first time in the Sunset Series last night is already helping to build my confidence!

As I mentioned in my last post, the decision to race came to me in a moment, and within a week I had assembled a wonderful crew of women. Our experience and personalities run the gamut, and after being on the boat together yesterday, I can see that we are going to make a great team! There is already an air of supporting each other to grow not only as sailors, but in our personal lives. A personal example for me is in the seemingly never ending challenge of trusting myself and what I know (not down playing my skills and playing small). I can already tell that these women are going to gently yet strongly help me past this life-long challenge.

We headed to the start with a lot of time to spare, practicing our tacks and jibes, with our faithful Robin (now dubbed bow rider) on the bow calling traffic and such. Lara and I got into our groove with communication and timing, while the rest of the crew got up to speed with their jobs. Lara is so calm and confident, and helps me to stay centered. She was on top of the timing and guided me expertly towards our start! Carrie and Gabi developed a seamless operation in handling the genoa sheets with my undersized (and underpowered) winches. Carrie was on the main trim like nobody’s business. I teased her that I could see the fire in her eyes the minute we started sailing. She hasn’t sailed in many years, but let me assure you that nothing has been lost. The woman is amazing and her contributions to tactics and sail trim are invaluable…not to mention her humor and fierce competitive spirit!

We were in the last class to start (cruising B, non-spinnaker), so we had the benefit of being able to clearly tell who was in our class and where they were on the line. We pulled a risky maneuver and started on a port tack at the pin. If we had had more wind, it would have worked better, but as it was, we were a bit slow. As a result we weren't able to cross the boat on the line closest to us and therefore had to tack away because they had rights (they were on a starboard tack). This ended up being ok though, because we were able to pull away from them and push them up a bit to get moving on our way to the mark. We had a short course, and did fine heading up to our weather mark.

My only regret is that we didn’t motivate to use our whisker pole on our way downwind. We haven’t had time to practice with it, and my pole is a bit messed up. The last time I used it was in the middle of the Pacific, and on a different boat, and it has some battle scars.

We placed 4th out of 11 boats in our class, and I am so excited about that!! Not too shabby for our 1st race! No matter the outcome, we had a great 1st race, celebrated by a big enthusiastic toast at the end of it. I, for one was celebrating our amazing crew, and a job well done! I am so very grateful for this opportunity, and to be able to sail and grow alongside these strong and talented women! The thing that I am the happiest about, is that we truly are a team. We are there to support each other in very way and the energy between us is one of real respect and support. There was no yelling or criticism, which for me is a welcome bit of fresh air. I am very excited to see what this season brings! I imagine growth and friendship will be at the top of the list!

The ladies!!!!

photos by bow rider (aka: Robin Mohilner)

A New Adventure for Cassiopeia and Me!

The wind is coming up early and strong for a Marina Del Rey morning. It is gorgeous and clear from where I sit in my new apartment overlooking the marina, but the wind is somehow unsettling. The cacophony of clanking halyards and howling wind is making me feel antsy.  It always amazes me how the wind can be so disconcerting to me when I am on land, and today is no exception. It feels eerie and dramatic, especially for 7 in the morning. Perhaps if I turn my thoughts to the sea and all of the adventures she promises, I will feel less ill at ease. Truth be told, I cannot wait to get back out there. Soon, I hope!

Cassiopeia and I are working towards that goal now, as we slowly ramp up our game. I have been sailing more lately, and as I slowly emerge out of the haze of the past months, I can see in my mind’s eye my next sailing goals and dreams materializing. My sailing adventures fell to the back burner for a while as I navigated some personal challenges. Slowly though, I feel the fire being stoked, and I can feel the horizon calling me again.

The most recent development is that I have decided to race I the Sunset Series here in Marina Del Rey. These races are our local Wednesday night buoy races put on by California Yacht Club, that go from now until September. I have crewed a lot in this series and other races like this in my life, but have never skippered my own boat in them. As I am sure I have mentioned here before, race starts intimidate me, and being in charge of a crew of people has always felt daunting to me. So, I decided to do it anyhow! Just as with all other decisions in my life, it just came to me one day that I should do this, and with an all-woman crew. So, that is what I am doing. Thankfully I have a lot of wonderful ladies in my life who love to sail. I have invited a crew of experienced racers and enthusiastic newbies alike, and I fall somewhere in the middle.  My goal in doing so is to create and foster an environment of mutual support and learning, so we can all learn and grow from wherever we fall on the spectrum.

A new and wonderful friend of mine, who is a very experienced racer has agreed to be my coach and tactician. I am so grateful, because the thought of going in cold and without support would stop me in my tracks. I couldn’t be more excited (or intimidated) about this new adventure. I have been taking a clinic on race starts the past 2 weekends. Last weekend I was coached by my talented and experienced boyfriend on his boat, and this weekend I will be sailing with my friend Lara for the first time to get our strategy and communication plan together for the season.

Last night I attended the seminar for the race series. I went alone, as none of my crew could make it. I will admit that though I saw some familiar faces there, I felt really intimidated. It reminded me for a second of how I felt when I walked into the skippers meeting before the Singlehanded Transpac. Everything sounded at once familiar and completely foreign and daunting. I know myself well enough to know that I need a hands on experience of all of this in order for it to start to make total sense. I have faith that it will, and have faith in myself that I will learn exactly what I need to exactly when I am meant to.

I am so grateful to my friends for being willing to embark upon this new journey with me. I feel so supported and so excited to have a team of strong women by my side as I dive into this new adventure! I know that we will all emerge better and stronger for it!

Some thoughts on Bravery and a Shout out to Nathalie Criou!

I have been thinking a lot about bravery lately, and what that means to me as a woman and as a sailor, and how those two relate. Something popped into my Facebook feed today by Brene' Brown that stopped me in my tracks. She was talking about her daughter's graduation from high school and all of the emotions that emerged in her as a result of that milestone. Its a great post, and you can read it here. In that post she said that their family motto is that it is "okay to be brave and afraid at the same time". I love that, and as I read it I realized that I have experienced the power of this very paradox in my own life. I have found that by allowing both, deep growth and great accomplishments are possible (and even inevitable)!

I concurrently read a blog post by my new friend and one of my sailing inspirations, Nathalie Criou. Nathalie is a veteran of the Singlehanded Transpac (2014) and is currently in France getting ready to race in the Solitaire Urgo le Figaro , an historic French singlehanded race, which starts on May 26! In her post, she speaks of her "healthy dose of fear" as she comes face to face with some of the top sailors in the country. She is a very accomplished sailor herself, and I am sure she will give them a run for their money, but what means the most to me as someone that looks up to her, is that she is acknowledging her humanness in so many ways. She also has the best attitude about it and says that learning a lot and having fun will happen no matter what, which I love and wholeheartedly agree with!

After reading her post today, and knowing that she is over there on her own preparing to sail in a very prestigious and challenging race, I had to stop for a moment and acknowledge her bravery! She is brave to believe in herself enough to do it, and she is brave to do it, and she is brave to admit her fears. The latter, to me, is the biggest piece of her bravery! 

Please join me in cheering her on, and stay tuned for an interview with her here on my blog when she returns from France!! My hat is off to you Nat!!!!!

MEET KASS SCHMITT!! Solo Offshore Sailor Extraordinaire!

Friends,

Meet Kass Schmitt! She is about to take off (IN 2 WEEKS!) on the OSTAR (The Original Transatlantic Singlehanded Race) with the goal of becoming the first woman to win! I have not met Kass in person yet, but we have corresponded and connected on social media. She has graciously agreed to be a part of my documentary project about women solo offshore sailors, and I cannot wait to meet her in person for our interview! Our correspondence alone has shown me what a true badass she is! Kass is the perfect blend of graciousness, kindness and pure grit! I have no doubt that her race will be a success. She is still looking for support for her campaign, and I want to share the link here to her Indiegogo page so that perhaps some of you can reach out and make a donation! Every little bit will help her achieve her goal! At the very least, please follow here progress on Facebook, and/or her wonderful blog!

Here’s to you Kass!!!!!!

Humble Pie! Handed to me by a crazy day on the bay.

What a day!!! I was planning on single handing for the Berger Stein Pt. Dume and return race yesterday (we single and double handers are trying to represent so they keep this series open to us), but I am very glad that fate intervened and my big brother ended up joining me at the last minute. It was a wild and crazy day on the bay to say the least, and having an extra person with me was a life saver! We headed out of the marina towards the start with all of the other boats, and as we got out towards the committee boat, the wind came up pretty quickly and hinted strongly at the wild ride that was to come. I am slowly learning Cassiopeia’s ways, and one thing I learned early on is that I need to reef early and conservatively. She has a tall rig and a lot of sail area compared to Haunani, and becomes overpowered terrifyingly quickly. I reefed my main and my genoa for the start, and I am glad that I did, for she was a handful even with those reefs in place.

As usual, the start stressed me out like crazy. I simply HATE them. I hate being so close to everyone (especially being shorthanded), and I also hate trying to figure out my strategy, because honestly I have none. I wish I could just take my turn and go, because once we get away from the line and out to sea, I am comfortable and confident, but sailing around the line with all of the other boats, creates a lot of anxiety for me. I hope to get over this one day, and I will keep being brave and putting myself in the mix (and learning from my mentors) until I do!

Our course was MDR to Pt. Dume and back. We were hard on the wind all the way up, and the wind was mainly over 25 knots and sometimes up to 30+.  As we tacked our way up the bay, we took a beating. The sea was intense, and the wind was gusty and fierce and we were consistently over powered. In hindsight, I should have taken a 2nd reef in my mainsail, but since my 1st reef is very deep, I somehow thought the second would be overkill. After talking to my mentors and looking at photos of the race, however, I realize that I was very wrong. I also realized that I need to have a smaller headsail on hand. My 140% is reefable, but trying to reef (on the roller-furler) it in those winds was painful (I saw dollar signs flying out the window as the sail flogged during the process). If I had reefed the main again, I would have been able to point higher and I wouldn’t have been pushed down so much.

Once we turned around to run home, the wind was in the 30’s and gusting to 38. We had an unfortunate gybe during which my main sheet snapped and three blocks shattered. I am grateful that was the only damage, because it was very scary and could have been a lot worse in those conditions. It provided another big learning experience for the day: I should have chicken gybed (doing a regular tack and then falling off) instead of attempting a regular gybe in those winds. It’s painful to admit my stupidity, but those kinds of mistakes are how things stick in my brain sometimes. I jury rigged a new sheet (using my preventer) to secure the boom, and we dropped the main. We flew home under Genoa only, at between 8-10 knots. The swells were building and we had a few very fun surfs! It was hard work to steer though, and my hands are still feeling it as I type this. I was very happy to get back into the marina, even though docking in that wind provided one last hairy adventure to cap off my day. My brother was an amazing crew, and when we were finally safely close to home, we toasted the day with a cold Heineken (I just found out they are gluten free by the way!)!

As I fix my boat, and reflect on the day, I am so grateful for the opportunity to have gotten to sail Cassiopeia for the first time in intense conditions. I learned a lot about her and myself on that race. I have a list of things I need to change about her set up to make her more manageable for me alone in those conditions. I also realize that before I go offshore alone with her, I need to do a lot more practice sails in the bay when the conditions are intense, yet manageable so that I can create a symbiotic relationship with her. Part of my ease with Haunani was that I had sailed her alone for so long that I could move around blind folded. Also, she was a lot more forgiving of a boat than Cassiopeia is, so everything always felt more manageable. I know that my relationship with Cassiopeia will get there, but I don’t want to jump the gun and put myself in challenging situations at sea before we do. It is a process, and one I intend to honor and take very seriously!

As always, I am so grateful to my mentors and teachers who generously give me the opportunity to debrief with them so I can learn in retrospect. I am also grateful to the crazy day in the bay for teaching me so much in a short time! Finally, I am grateful for all that I have been through until now that has taught me how to keep us safe and moving on a day like that! I am a very different sailor than I was at this time last year, and I am sure in a year from now I will say the same. I love the learning and growth that is always available as I move through these wonderful adventures!! I am also grateful for the opportunities sailing provides for me to remind myself of the importance of “bravery not perfection” (if you have not seen Reshma Saujani’s Ted Talk about this, please watch it!!).

(All photos are by my talented and wonderful big brother, Chris Woods)

flying home in 30-38 knots with just the genoa! It was a work out with those swells shoving us about!

Catalina To Port :: A PSSA Race

Catalina to Port: From the starting line located near Palos Verdes buoy "10PV", leave the West End of Catalina to port, finish when Catalina East End light (Fl w 6s) position 33 18.1162N 118 19.0570W is within 0.5 NM and bears 350°M from the helmsman's position. Handicap distance 41 NM.

My crew (and dear friend), Scott and I departed the dock at 8am on a beautiful warm Southern California morning. We had a lovely cruise to PV 10 and arrived just before check in. I felt very excited as we headed towards the start, because more and more boats were appearing around us which brought with them the promise of a well-attended race! I believe we had 13 boats entered, and by 10:30am we were all tacking around waiting for our 11am start. I have to admit that I will never tire of the pre-start ritual of cruising the starting area with everyone, waving hello to each other and checking out each other’s boats!

I had my usual nervousness about the start, but was coached well by Scott (and even though did not quite do what he said, I was a little aggressive…. at least for me) and we had a solid start right behind Jerome on Biohazard. As we made our way across the channel, we were holding our own among the fleet, and that felt really good (I am still pleasantly surprised by Cassiopeia’s litheness compared to Haunani’s). Due to the wind angle we had a couple of indecisive moments about which tack was best to make the west end, but once we settled on a direction, we got into a groove and were in a really good place. Cassiopeia was moving well in the semi light wind, and we made good way across the channel. We came around the West end and the wind got really light. As we got closer and closer to Eagle rock, I decided we should tack and head away from the island. As we did that, we caught a little breeze and started to move a little better until we were away from the island a bit and clear of the wind hole that seemed to be plaguing everyone else. From there we headed down the back side moving slowly but well. At one point we tried to deploy my spinnaker (asymmetrical), but the wind was too light for it to be effective, and we decided to douse it and pole out the genoa instead. I have to admit that the mixture of getting to know my new boat (I have only flown the spinnaker one other time, and have never used my whisker pole with her), and the flukey conditions had me pretty flustered. I know that I will get there, but it is anything but a seamless operation at this point!

A lot of people retired from the race early on, and we got close too at one point, but I am glad we stuck it out, because we got into a nice little groove out there, and about 2/3 of the way down the island, the wind came up into the 20’s and provided for a very fun ride to the east end. One of the most fun things for me was converging with Rod on Rubicon III and then having him hot on our tail as we flew towards the finish wing and wing, riding some pretty big rollers. We stayed in front of him until the wind died just shy of the east end light and true to form, he scooted right past us in the light air.

It was a spectacular sunset and a beautiful day on the water. I am so grateful to Scott for being such a great teammate out there. As always we had a blast together! We tucked into Avalon around 9pm and were both exhausted and ready for a hot meal and sleep. We were lucky to get to spend the entire next day and night relaxing in Avalon, and had a fun sail home on Monday afternoon!

Cassiopeia's First Race

Saturday was my 1st race on Cassiopeia! It was also my 1st race period on my own boat, outside of PSSA races (and of course the SHTP). It was the first of the Berger/Stein Series races and it was from Marina Del Rey to Malibu and return. Being near the start line as everyone was tacking around waiting to begin, was such a wonderful experience. I knew most of the boats, and was now seeing them all from the vantage point of my own as I sailed by them waiving hellos and shouting good lucks! I missed being aboard dear Eggemogin, as I had in the two years prior, but this was a new beginning for me, and I was excited to try something new. We didn’t have much wind, but it was a lovely day to be on the water! I was lucky enough to be double handing with my dear friend Whitall, who taught me so much in one day about light air sail trim, and despite the super light conditions, we were able to keep moving all day. We, like almost everyone else, aborted the race just before sunset (about 2nm from our mark in Malibu). It was futile to try to finish in those conditions, and I was just happy we got as far as we did. The sunset was reason enough to be out there anyhow, and we heartily drank in the beauty and solace that unfolded before our eyes as we made our way home. I was literally moved to tears by the majesty of it all.

It’s hard to accurately convey why every sunset on the water can drop me to my knees. No matter how many I have witnessed or how frequently I witness them. It always feels new, and it invokes a sense of reverence in me like nothing else I have ever felt. Nature in general, and the sea in particular is truly my “church”. I feel the closest connection to spirit when I am out there, and the sunset hour seems to be the most sacred of those times. As the sun splashes its light along the horizon, the veil between worlds seems to be almost non-existent, and I can viscerally experience being one with God, nature, the universe (whatever you want to call it....to me it is all the same). Being on the sea is where I can most easily connect with the indescribable magic of that realm. I always try to capture the magic in images and video, and this time I think I came pretty close, although nothing is like being there in person drinking in in with every fiber of my being.

Leaving San Francisco Bay :: July 2, 2016

Just some pics and videos of my departure from San Francisco. What an amazing day! I have no words for all of the love and support I felt...FYI, my brothers are AMAZING. Love is not a big enough word to contain how I feel about them!

Catalina To Port :: A PSSA Race

I just returned last night from one of the most fun and inspiring sailing experiences I have ever had. I want to write about it while it is fresh in my head (even though I still haven’t begun to chronicle the amazing experience of my 400 mile qualifier the week before).

Haunani and I were lucky enough to have the company of Whitall Stokes on our last adventure. Whitall offered to join me to doublehand the PSSA Catalina to Port race when he heard me mention one day that I had zero experience flying a spinnaker (least of all by myself). Since much of this race is downwind, it was the perfect opportunity to learn from someone who is a seasoned singlehanded offshore sailor, not to mention to spend the weekend with a great person. Whitall and I started to get to know each other a couple of months ago when I interviewed him for this blog. You can read the post here. Since then we have become fast friends and he has definitely become a trusted mentor. I really admire Whitall, not only because he is a very accomplished sailor, but because he is a very kind and genuine person.

We set out early Saturday morning for the long and rolly journey of motoring out to the PV 10 buoy off of Palos Verdes. Since Whitall is the PRO of our club, our boat was the rabbit boat, so we were there waiting for the other three vessels when they arrived. As everyone gathered, the wind started to come up, and we were all poised for a great start to what turned out to be a very fun race.

The wind filled in nicely, and we had a lively sail across the channel towards the west end of Catalina Island. We had a bit of a rough start due to a huge piece of kelp that got caught on our prop (the famous, crappy, soon to be replaced fixed prop that earns me endless amounts of sh*t from my compadres). It took both of us taking turns crawling down the swim ladder hanging of the stern wielding a totally MacGyver-knife-on-the-end-of-a-boat-hook-situation trying to cut the stuff off to even make a dent. It was a pretty pathetic sight that ended with both of us being more wet than dry...not to mention a stubborn piece of kelp remaining.

We carried on despite this little hold up, and made good time to the west end. I was a little queasy on this leg, but really enjoyed it nonetheless. The day was picturesque to say the least. We rounded the west end in a stiff breeze, and headed down the backside. Once we were about a third of the way down, we decided to set my spinnaker. Whitall patiently coached me and demonstrated the procedure with the ease of an expert. We had a great run down the island, culminating with a sudden increase in wind just before we came to the finish. We were all of a sudden gettting gusts of up to 25 knots, and Haunani was broaching like crazy. I tried to suck the spinnaker into its sock to start the dousing process but the wind was way to strong. I was also stupidly not wearing gloves and got a gnarly rope burn on my hand trying. As much as this was intense and challenging, Haunani handled it all with grace, and we were finally able to get around the end of the island without incident to calmer wind and made our way to the finish line. We finished as the sun was setting, and once we doused the spinnaker, we celebrated by floating slowly towards Avalon in the waning light, toasting our day with a nice glass (or 3) of red. I loved that not only did Whitall want to take in the peace of the sunset without rushing back, but that the first thing he said at that time was “so, what were our learning experiences in all of that?” We spent about half an hour rehashing all that happened and what we could have done better. I wish I had had a notebook for all that I learned on that sail. Just about at the time we were about to turn on the engine, one of our PSSA buddies motored by after his finish. It was fun to be able to chat with him on the radio and toast him from afar! We finished our day by picking up a mooring in Avalon and having a lovely dinner where we were both almost falling asleep in our food. I was happy to be hanging with someone who is also accustomed to a 9pm bed time! :-)

My favorite thing about what I learned this weekend was the way in which it was delivered. First of all, Whitall is calm and collected at all times, and despite his sheer badassness, ego never enters into any equation with him on the boat. His lessons are conveyed mostly in the form of questions and invitations to self reflect. There were no harsh edges to any of it (except maybe endless well deserved sh*t about how much stuff is on my boat :-) ) but that is not to say he didn’t hold me accountable or that there was not strength and confidence behind every word. I always say that there is a reason I sail alone….mainly because, as social as I am, spending that kind of time in a small space and in intense situations with most people is challenging…unless they are the right people and it just works. I had a hunch we would get along and that I would enjoy having him on my boat, and I was right. What a true gentleman and wonderful guest! I am so grateful for our friendship and for the fact that I got to soak in as much as I did this weekend. I feel like my mind is bursting with all that I learned..