The euphoria of pacing with the Grand Prix fleet floated away as the wind backed north overnight and we tore our A2 kite from leech to leech. By Chris Museler.
In the morning, the AIS and daylight showed us behind the slower Kodiak in our class. It happens, but it’s a bummer.
The Kodiak team was one of many to withdraw from the last race when a dangerous depression was forecast. I know they are hungrier than the average bear. I have a feeling that Llwyd Ecclestone's pesky 66-footer with some of the best sailors in the Northeast is going to be our benchmark for the race. One we desperately want to pass.
Our light canoe, though, is still kicked over and chasing breeze with bigger spinnakers.
Our crew is mostly amateurs, still new to Merlin. But those awesome bonds with chill, opened-minded crew that fuse in an ocean race and in sailing are clear as our watches roll by.
Kat Malone, a watch foredeck boss and wife of captain Brian Malone, spent three hours this morning repairing a rip the length of a Lightning one-design dinghy.
Kat grew up in Kansas with horses. When she moved to Tampa, Florida, “it was too expensive to take the horses,” and she found sailing at Davis Island Yacht Club.
Vlad “Kuli” Kulinichenko calmly coached Kat through the arduous repair. Kat would hold either end of the tear as Kuli would patiently explain how to counter the bias of the cloth, a master class in onboard sail repair.
Kuli was one of the “Usual Vlads,” famous in magazines, books and videos as the Russian team in the 1989-’90 Whitbread around the world race aboard the extraordinary maxi Fasizi. He’s literally sailed everywhere you can sail as a pro sailor. He just knows the tricks: how to open a genoa slot with a lazy spinnaker sheet pulling straight back; or how to factor in four different data inputs from the red-lit screens while riding apparent wind in drifting conditions. He’s a calm teacher and uses few words in his heavy Russian accent to get the point across, every time.
“Even if you know you’re right, you can’t push an idea too hard; otherwise you lose them,” said Kuli, referring to the times he must influence a new team even when some “think” they know the right answer.
Kat and Kuli are a fine team. After they met at Davis Island, she picked things up quickly and Kuli proposed her for membership. Not long ago she became the first female commodore of the club.
The sail was repaired just in time to be used in the dying breeze. The leaders are now out of sight, and we just passed Dream Crusher, a smaller, much more modern boat in the Gibbs Hill Division. We know our time may come again, like last night alongside Rambler 88.
There’s always a hope for something better in the Bermuda Race or any ocean race. Onboard Merlin, the team is enjoying the process and each other. We’re still sliding along at 9 knots. A bit better than most in the fleet, I hope.
