Competitive juices are a poisonous punch. We are creeping along at 1.5 knots at noon on Monday in about 3 to 5 knots of following wind. For a while this morning, we had 7 knots on the beam and were making 4 knots. At anything less than hull speed, we are visited by thoughts of our competitors. These are not happy thoughts at under 2 knots of progress, be sure of that. How much ahead are the rest? Do they have better conditions? Will we fall farther and farther behind?
These concerns do not make for happy sailing. Where in the absence of competition we would have a marvelous day of moderate temperatures and that incredibly blue water surrounding us, in the midst of a race we are less prone to appreciate those things.

Speaking as a person for whom competition is not the goal in life, I can report that both Monica and I would be much happier with today’s meager progress were we simply sailing. I can imagine that there are those for whom the thrill of trying to outsail another boat compensates for the tedium and the frustration that light air brings. I suppose these are the legendary Type A personalities. The world is moved ahead by these folks, whereas the Type C — he who’d prefer contemplation to competition — are only along for the ride.

But we are in a race, so we think about wind speed a lot. We are constantly calculating when, at our current rate, we will cross the  Bermuda One-Two finish line off of Red 2 buoy in Newport. With more than 400 miles to go, that is a very discouraging calculation at 2 knots of boat speed.

But in fact we’re not really discouraged. We know that, in time, the wind will return. And since neither of us will gauge our success in life by our finishing place in this race, we can look back on this trip, whatever happens, as a wonderful adventure.

For now there are two fishing lines in the water. Yesterday, one of them caught two clumps of seaweed and a knotted piece of 3/8 inch nylon rope. We don’t have enough speed at present to attract anything more lively than that. So the fact that the lures are out there is more of a nod toward the coming wind, back there in the southeast, that we are certain is on its way.

There is a relative of competition that often can have the same impact on the enjoyment of sailing. That would be a schedule. So far in our sailing life, Monica and I have always been constrained by schedule. It’s what drives the impulse to turn on the engine. If you must be back to work by Monday, you cannot afford to wait for the wind.

Now that I think of it, this is probably what keeps many sailors close to shore. Day sailing gives you much of sailing’s pleasure without its pressures. But it certainly is not the same deal as being on your boat out on the ocean. There is an intoxicating quality to going offshore. Monica asked me this morning if, when it is time to bring Robin back to Annapolis, I’m going to want to. I had to say no. I’d just like to keep going, not racing, not worrying about a timetable. Just moving ahead with the wind as an occasional, and essential, companion.