From the Deck of Prospector 12 July 2015 0100Z

They told me I must put a few thoughts for the blog together or not

come to the Cowes crew party even though I help pay for it-tough love

Prospector style.  I’m the oldest crew and that along with what seems

to be the deepest off-shore/distance racing experience (except for

Henry, Tery and Quinn) grants me the Watch Captain title along with

Paul.  I have owned many race boats over the years and most recently I

have raced my beloved Swan 42 Barleycorn to some success over the

past 7 years with IRC Class wins in the Bermuda Race (twice), the Block

Island Race and the Vineyard Race (twice).  We also won the 2010 NYYC

Swan 42 East Coast One Design Championship. Our TR2015 adventure

has been a dream and I’m delighted to have been invited-who wouldn’t

want a 400 mile day and long 23 knot surfs in the pitch-black night with

really big seas.

One unexpected element that Paul and I have discussed is the extreme

stress we encounter daily that is the product of the big breezes and big

seas in a high performance boat. It may occur in a maneuver gone

wrong or in extremely dicey driving conditions.  For Paul and I this is a

hobby and maybe our reaction is understandable and surely with more

experience we will feel differently but that makes the cool competence

of Tery (and sailmaker Henry) and his boys stand out as they deal with

these events.

Unbelievable race (and conditions), great boat, great crew, great

leadership and Larry’s vision have led to something special.  Can’t wait

to finish tomorrow and can’t wait to see my beautiful wife, Bettina in

Cowes on Thursday.

Respectfully submitted-Brendan Brownyard, Watch Capt.

From The Deck Of Prospector 11 July 2015 1030Z

A Wild Night and A Wet Day

Shortly after last night’s post, our circumstances began to change very

rapidly.  We thought we were settling down to a quiet night, our third

in a row without chaos, with a conservative sail plan and a breeze

dropping from 25 knots to 20 and rising back to 25 knots from the

Southwest.  That wasn’t what we got.

After initially showing signs of easing the wind began to howl, building

quickly into a range of 28-32 knots.  Our initial reaction to this was

delight.  These were Prospector sailing conditions, which would

hopefully help us gain on our competitors.  With a full main a the Jib

Top and Genoa Staysail at 12-14 knots boat speed we were happy as

clams at high tide, as Paul likes to say.  We went about our onboard

routines, looking forward to gaining on our rivals in advance of putting

up the A5 in what we thought would be a moderating breeze at first

light this morning.

These plans too were very short lived.  The squalls arrived.  These

squalls appeared suddenly, out of nowhere, with no radar footprint. 

Four of them caught us.  In the first squall the wind went from 25-28 to

47 knots in a second just after midnight.  Paul fought the helm as it

knocked us on our beam.  The crew quickly sprang to life, and reefed

the main, as the squall disappeared as quickly as it came.   We all were

a bit shaken by the sudden menace of the thing, but quickly regrouped

thinking the reef would keep us out of future trouble.  The second

squall hit at about 0130z.  After we recovered from the knockdown we

put in a second reef and sailed on.  The third squall caught us at 0430z,

forcing us in to a third reef.  The fourth and last squall this morning hit

us 30 minutes later at 0500Z.  This time with a 44 knot gust.  All out of

reefs, we struck the Jib Top, which had lost all of its battens and the

General, our new name for the Genoa Staysail, which is likely done for

the TR2015.  We put up the J4, kept the reefs in and sped on.

This morning was anything but glorious.  The exact opposite  of  the

great weather we have enjoyed during daylight hours for the last three

days.  Until a short while ago it was grey, very windy and dumping rain. 

We are going fast and throwing spray everywhere.  Getting ready  to go

on deck feels like getting ready to go for a walk on the moon with all

the gear that you need to put on to stay dry.  Presently, it is just grey

and windy. 

Reading this you might think the crew was miserable in these nasty

conditions.  You would be wrong.  They are there usual zany selves. 

Tremendously upbeat, joking, telling stories, making fun of each other

and laughing constantly.  They are simply out of this world. 

One reason for their good spirits is the performance of the mighty

Prospector.  She loves her current sail plan and is shaking all this

nastiness off without a care.  We are going very fast and gaining on our

competition.

We can’t imagine being anywhere else in the world today than out here

in the North Atlantic, with each other,  less than 400 nautical miles to

go now, hauling the US Mail.

From The Deck Of Prospector 10 July 2015 2230Z

We have had an incredibly busy and productive 24 hours.  While last

night’s post “Wilderness” was being finalized Prospector was buzzing

with activity.

For 24 hours we had been struggling with the light winds, sub 20 knots,

and were losing ground to our competitors.  We knew where to find

more wind, but were reluctant to separate from the fleet to go get it. 

Finally, we decided that we had no choice.  We had to go.  The on

watch crew executed the gybe and once again we were off to the north

to find the low pressure system we have been playing with for the last

few days.

Below decks, North Sails North Atlantic sail loft opened for business. 

We desparately needed to get one of either the A5 or A6 back to

continue to be competitive.  Looking the two sails over again, Henry

offered to try repairing the A5.  He told us not to get our hopes up but

would see what he could do.  Tery subbed in on Henry’s watch as Henry

grabbed Scotty, went below and set up shop.  The next four hours were

the comical highlight of the trip. 

We closed Prospector’s companionway to not blind the on watch crew

as we turned on all the cabin lights so Henry and Scotty could see what

they were doing.  The duo grabbed one of Prospector’s floorboards to

serve as a table.  Scotty got out his magic bag of sail repair gear and

they set to work.  Sitting side by side, wearing their headlamps they cut

away pieces too damaged to repair and used a variety of patches, sticky

back sail cloth, needle and thread to make the repair.  They amused

themselves while they worked by telling jokes, often delivering the

punch line in unison to ones they both knew, and singing songs, the

best of which was their duet to The Doors song Riders on The Storm. 

They were hysterical, to the great amusement of the off watch crew,

Colette and Larry. 

They were also incredibly effective.  Slowly but surely the pile of nylon

rubble spread about them began to resemble something looking like a

spinnaker.  After a few hours work both went to get some needed sleep

before going back on their next watch. The repair was mostly complete

and would be finished the next day.

The on watch crews spent the night picking their way through a 15 mile

squall line as we pressed on to the north.  With every passing mile the

wind blew stronger.  At various times each of our different competitors

would gybe on to our course, but never all of them at once.  Tactically

what we were doing was pretty risky, something we try to avoid. 

Finally, finding the 30 knot wind field that we have grown to love, we

gybed back to the east, pointing Prospector towards the finish again.

We enjoyed another amazing day of good weather.  Prospector picked

up yet another nickname, Carbon Beach, as everyone on deck enjoyed

the warm, sunny conditions.  The crew worked relentlessly to get every

ounce of speed out of Prospector.  Sails went up and down, reefs went

in and out. We tried every idea we could think of to get more speed. 

The mainsail, damaged during one of our gybes in the early morning

hours was partially lowered and repaired.  Another Formula 1 style pit

stop and incredible piece of work by Scotty with a big assist from the

rest of the crew.  Unable to sail downwind at the same wide angles as

our competitors we were forced to sail higher to stay fast and keep up. 

This required frequent gybes to stay in phase in very shifty wind

conditions and keep pointed towards the finish.  Gybing a beast the size

of Prospector in 28-32 knots can be risky if executed poorly, but our

crew work has improved day by day, gybe by gybe.  Our talented and

amazing crew pulled each manouevre off better than the previous one. 

There was just one little problem ruining our otherwise very special

day.  We remained stuck in 4th place despite all of the effort.  Running

out of nifty go fast ideas we decided to it was time to take a bit of a

gamble.  About mid day Henry completed the repair of the A5.  It was

back in one piece, a marvelous piece of work by Scotty and Henry.  We

had been debating all afternoon whether we should fly it and when. At

2pm we decided it was time.  Everyone was anxious as we rigged to set

the A5.  Henry told us that though it was back in one piece, there were

no guarantees it would remain in one piece if we flew it.  This sail can

normally be flown in a 12-35 knots wind speed.  We decided we would

limit it to 22-28 knots, the wind range we just couldn’t fill with various

combinations of our other sails.

Once it was set to go we hoisted the A5.  Our normally chatty boat

went quiet as we all waited to see what would happen.  The A5 went

up without an issue, but luffed behind the Jib Top, lengthening the

suspense.  Bruce, LuLu (Lucien’s nickname) and Scotty wrestled the JT

to the deck.  Henry rose from his bunk to watch intently.  Once the JT

was down the A5 was sheeted in, filled and with a lurch pulled

Prospector forward.  Our boat speed jumped from 11-12knots to 14-16

knots under the bigger downwind sail.  As it filled we got our first look

at its newly repaired shape.  Unbelievably, it looked almost good as

new.  A loud cheer rose from the deck as the crew celebrated.  Henry

and Scotty got pats on the back or hugs from the rest of their

companions. 

We were all thrilled as we hurtled down the track 2-5 knots faster and

10 degrees lower.  We all new at once our chances for a podium finish,

which had been diminishing despite all our efforts, had just improved

immeasurably.  We kept the A5 up for 4 more hours, until 6pm, when

the wind built to 28 knots the top of our range.  As a squall approached

from astern we quickly got it down safely.  A big improvement over the

last time the A5 came down, when it was forcibly brought down in

pieces for us. 

We went back in to our night sailing JT/GS combo, had dinner and

settled down for the night.  The 4 hours with A5 had given us the

difference maker we so badly needed.  In those 4 hours we

accomplished what we had been trying to do for the previous 20 hours,

we were back in 3d in our fleet.  Tomorrow morning at first light the A5

goes back up.  We intend to leave it up until we finish.

Wilderness

If the definition of wilderness is a place lacking the obvious touch of

mankind then the North Atlantic surely qualifies. We have been out

now for more than a week and other than the first few hours of the

race, we have seen two or three freighters in the distance and, this

morning, another competitor as they crossed in front. That’s it.

Mercifully, we have seen almost not trash. So while we are alone, that

doesn’t mean there is nothing to see. Far from it.

For commercial shipping this wilderness is a really just a highway. A few

see it from the deck of a cruise ship. Most from an airplane window at

40,000 feet. Sailing across gives you an entirely different perspective.

We get to see it up close and personal. And it’s beautiful. The skies

during the day sometimes blue and sometimes boiling with rain squalls,

all reflected in the heaving swell. The seas themselves form their own

unique topography which is fascinating to watch as the crest and

change shape around the boat. At night the stars (when we can see

them) form the perfect dome across which we can easily see satellites

as they blink their tracks across the sky.

While we haven’t seen too much of our two legged brethren, there has

been plenty of wildlife. You don’t see it all the time like in the zoo. But

it’s here and a nearly constant presence. We see a lot of two kinds of

birds. The first are maybe Petrels(?) and they soar among the waves

literally without a wing beat as they use the wind and the air currents

flowing over the waves to create effortless flight. Very fun to watch.

The second are small black birds who flit endlessly in pairs up and down

the troughs of the waves. How many calories they must burn staying

continuously aloft is mindboggling to consider.

Of course everyone’s favorites are the dolphins. We see the white sided

variety multiple times a day. Sometimes they come charging up to the

boat to pay a visit and show off jumping in and out of our wake. At

night they look like torpedoes as the bio luminescence glows in their

wake. Other times they simply pay us no mind as they cross us heading

who knows where. When we were battling big seas the other day, we

saw them leaping out of the sides of literally 40 foot waves. Amazing.

We have seen multiple turtles including yesterday when we saw a huge

leatherback. Indeed, sadly, I think we hit one yesterday with the

rudder. He took a chunk out of the leading edge. Hopefully all he got

was a nasty shock. Yesterday we also saw our first whale, a sperm

whale that surfaced right next to the boat.

The wildlife isn’t only in the sea or in the air. We actually have some

right here on the boat. Most is the microscopic variety which is

inhabiting our clothes and our bunks. By anyone’s definition, too gross

to describe here in this family friendly post. We do, however, have a

larger species on board. The seldom seen Greater North Atlantic

Raccoon. Entirely nocturnal, he is nearly impossible to spot but you

know he is around. Occasionally you can catch him nosing through last

night’s cold freeze dried dinner or worse yet the congealed remains of

the “breakfast skillet”. He leaves candy wrappers in his wake and we

have tracked them to the carbon cave at the back of the boat. If you

shine a light back there all you see are the whites of his eyes and the

gleam of his teeth.

Let me finish today on a different note. In the very trying circumstances

of the day we tangled with Larry’s bear, I saw some outstanding

seamanship on the part of this crew as they handled this hooligan of a

race boat in very big winds and even bigger waves. Tery in particular

stands out as being cool under pressure and steering us away from the

center of the low during the first hour. The guys on the foredeck

wrestling reefs in and hauling down insanely flapping sails. I know that I

felt an absolute enormous responsibility for the safety of the crew and

the boat when I was at the wheel as we thundered down huge waves.

Tim Keyworth and Henry Little did an outstanding job in the dead of

night in zero visibility driving through 40 knot winds and spray while

navigating the mogul fields on the front of the waves. Often at 25 knots

of boat speed in the pitch black. We didn’t wreck once. The experience

only solidified my confidence in this boat, but more importantly, the

whole crew.

Paul

From The Deck Of Prospector 09 July 2015 1100Z

Good morning.  A glorious morning, as predicted, with partly cloudy skies and a west wind at 18-22 knots.  Temperature hovers near 61, and a benign sea state has lifted everyone’s spirits.  It’s a dry-out day, and bits of gear and boots drape from the lifelines after the soaking received 2 days ago.  With the breeze building, it is the perfect reward for a very light and frustrating night. 

The sole perk of the overnight shifts was a late moonrise, delayed by cloud layers on the horizon.  Normally, we welcome the moon’s arrival as it illuminates the surface, giving context for the boat’s seemingly random lurches and surges.  But last night, the late arrival meant the only natural light came from the bioluminescence.  Back home at night, you see the odd glowing pear fish in your wake, but out here, an unimaginable count of microscopic, bioluminescent plankton surrounded Prospector in an ethereal blue glow, growing and splashing with each pitch and roll.  It was really quite a sight in a “what exactly am I looking at?” kind of way. 

Back to the present, Prospector does many things well, but she can be a bit underpowered downwind in light breezes.  As these conditions prevailed during the past 24 hours, we could do little but watch Snow Lion and Maximizer, our competition, eat away the distance between us and them. 

To fend them off, we gybed north in pursuit of bigger breeze and a more favorable angle to the Lizard.  As the wind strengthened, the A2 became unstable and we had to take it down.  The local foredeck union had the code 0 ready to roll, but in the back of the bus, one of the bolts holding the starboard wheel to its hub sheered.  We were left with a loose piece of metal rolling around inside the wheel with each turn.  After a formula 1 style pit stop, the wheel was removed and deemed unfixable out here.  Crisis averted, we hoisted the 0.

The wheel still works, but it’s quite annoying, and those of us with bunks near the helm are suddenly a bit more eager for England.