I definitely should’ve written this last week before Leg 1 of Race to Alaska (R2AK) began, but alas. I’ve been screwing around with my own wee sailboat, a 1970 Albin Vega named Huldra who I’ve neglected lately, more than posting online this sunny, likely to be forest-fire-smoked Seattle summer. Learning a bit about outboard impeller replacements, marine starboard projects, and standing rigging tuning before I get to have some real fun.
I did manage to bop up to Port Townsend on my fellow R2AK/Norwegian Reality TV alum pal Scott’s Nonsuch 30 to see the Leg 1 start. Maybe it’s the vestiges of my Portland kid, hipster roots, but when everyone around me is live-streaming and earnestly talking into their glowy screened endorphin dispensers, I feel less inclined to do so. But the vibe was grand and familiar friendly faces are their own reward. But now I’ve got a lazy afternoon on my hands and a few thoughts on this year’s race.
2024 Conditions Seem very 2018-Like
I’ve completed R2AK twice, 2018 and 2022, and what’s been fun about that combination is that those two years were completely opposite experiences. 2018 was arugably, and maybe even quantifiably, the least windy and hottest iteration of the race thus far. This spelled disaster for us of Team Wright Yachts aboard our Corsair 970 Sport, as our human powered pedal drive was slapped together as an afterthought and could barely give our 31-foot trimaran a knot of speed in ideal conditions. I even spent a fair amount of hours cranking on a SUP paddle from the bow. Horror and woe.
I wrote about that in Northwest Yachting magazine and this excerpt was widely shared as indicative of the experience:
“Thanks to the no-wind conditions, we suffered this surreal fate for literally days on end. Barefoot, shirtless, and increasingly sunburnt, we realized that we brought a shiny new Ferrari to a dirt bike rally. Team Wright Yachts in those two days, eyes increasingly wild and far gazing, resembled what a budget, straight-to-video, Werner Herzog directed attempt at Castaway 2 would look like. Fortunately, our mental state didn’t devolve to the point where Wilson, the blood covered volleyball, manifested but we came close.”
2022 by contrast was, again arguably and perhaps even quantifiably, the wettest and windiest year of the race. The Leg 1 Proving Grounds from Port Townsend to Victoria was a bloody nightmare, mate (my inner Aussie comes out when thinking of that year, Vegemite Vigilantes for life). A once-a-decade tide ebbed out as >40-knot winds roared in to create an epic wash that snapped a mast, capsized vessels, and generally caused lifelong trauma. It’s the only year the R2AK race organizers extended the time limit from 36 to 60 hours to de-incentivize kamikaze runs across the Strait of Juan de Fuca (I-Wanna-Puke-A to some). Nothing came easy that year. I felt like we were getting punched in the face the whole time, save one glorious 120ish nautical mile run into Alaska complete with rainbows and leaping porpoises. That’s how it goes sometimes.
All this is to say that conditions this year, especially as Leg 2 gets underway with pond-like conditions, gives off strong 2018 energy. The reddening faces of all the livestreamers, smiling and quippy to stave off the creeping insanity of paddling or pedaling their sailing craft in an aquatic microwave, says it all.
These conditions are changing as I type with some wind filling in. But for now, I feel for ya, racers.
Malolo’s Year! Dragon Smash!
Bottom line, I think Team Malolo with their battle scarred Dragon, a custom-built Cochrane Design trimaran, will take it this year. I’m fully aware that my prediction is not so brave now that we’re days into Leg 2 and they are in first place as I write this. The leading pack of boats are exiting that twisty wee devil Johnstone Strait on the tracker.
However, I pinky promise that I felt this way last week in Port Townsend. I feel this way not due to the normal discourse about boat specs, crew quality, and the like, but because I raced against these folks in R2AK 2022. To be frank, I’m pretty positive they would’ve beat us that year if they didn’t fall victim to what I’ve dubbed The Strait of Georgia Log Massacre. I wrote about that day in which half a dozen or so teams took “fatal” log damage in my (award winning, ha!) article for SAIL and Multihull Power & Sail magazines here. We were like the rebel fighters in the damn Star Wars Death Star trench run getting blasted.
Believe it or not, Team Malolo also took race ending log damage in another R2AK attempt that I know less about. Maybe this year they’ve got their eyes checked or made a sacrifice to the forest gods because their fate seems better. Also, as mentioned before, conditions are quite a bit milder than 2022. We’ve had pretty light rains this spring, generally lending to less woody waters. Woe unto coastal boaters from SE Alaska down through Oregon when those rain-fed rivers run high.
I feel a fair amount of kinship with anybody who endured the 2022 Strait of Georgia Log Massacre. That Malalo and their Dragon went through all the bullshit and are back for more warms my heart. Not only are they my favorite to win, but I hope they do. A victory would feel earned.
Consider buying my book, Salmon in the Seine: Alaskan Memories of Life, Death, & Everything In-Between! Available wherever books are sold, including Amazon, Powell’s City of Books, and Third Place Books. It’s won eight notable independent/small press book awards, so hey, it can’t be that bad, amirite?
Fun racing comments. Lots of earned sailing knowledge expressed in an entertaining way.