The magic of night sailing, checking in with the Transat Paprec, Congressional Cup decided
by David Schmidt 6 May 17:00 UTC
May 6, 2025
Downhill sailing sailing near the start of the Seattle Yacht Club's 2025 Protection Island Race aboard Dark Star, Jonathan and Libby McKee's Riptide 44 © David Schmidt
We bundled up as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the Olympic Mountains' sawtooth ridge and night quietly fell on Puget Sound. We'd been racing for about twelve hours in the Seattle Yacht Club's Protection Island Race (April 26), and we had seen a little bit of everything, from a miracle southerly that allowed us to hold our kite on the outward bound leg almost all the way north to Port Townsend, to the foul currents and thin winds awaiting us outside of Point Wilson, to the blustery and puffy airs and lumpy seas that we encountered in this same stretch after rounding Protection Island, to the flat waters and the there-but-spare northerly that was propelling us home, and we were getting tired.
That's when Jonathan pulled out a thermos of coffee, and my eyelids rediscovered their open position.
I'm glad they did: not only did we still have twenty-some miles separating our bow from the finishing line, but it was a gorgeous late-April evening on Puget Sound, and the first of the stars were glowing brightly as I bundled into my puffy jackets and pulled my watch cap on tight.
I've loved night sailing since I was a kid. There's just something magical about the quiet of the night, punctuated by the sound of the bow plying the water and the occasional mechanical groan of a winch. Conversation has a way of shifting to the quieter registers, and there's something utterly timeless about stretching one's eyes to see the curl of a spinnaker's luff tape in the dark.
I was just getting comfortable, my back pressed against a lifeline stanchion aboard Dark Star, Jonathan and Libby McKee's Riptide 44, the kite sheet in my hand, when JM wisely asked if the J1.5 was ready to go. I cast my mind back to the jib drop, way back near Protection Island, and remembered removing the sheets and halyard (which was in service on the staysail) and unclipping the tack, so I handed off the sheet and made my way to the bow.
We'd been watching three TP52s approach the finishing line on our AIS display, and all of them had gone from sailing at 8-9 knots to less than 2 knots, about a mile from the finishing line. But being nighttime, we were blind to their fortunes and just assumed that they had found a wind hole.
I had just finished clipping the halyard's snap shackle onto the jib's head when the wind clocked almost 180 degrees from the north to the south. We got the J1.5 hoisted, but only Kathryn, back in the cockpit, had the presence of mind to grab the kite. Our crew swarmed the problem, but not before Kathryn stagged a serious battle with the big sail that almost dragged her into the drink.
All ended well, and we got the kite belowdecks with minimal persisting drama, but the sail change was a good reminder that the peace and quiet of a night watch can change quickly, especially when offshore weather systems meet nearby mountain ranges.
While this was my first time sailing at night in a while, the 17 mixed-sex doublehanded teams that are sailing in the Transat Paprec have had (at the time of this writing, on Monday morning) 15 nights at sea as they race their Figaro Beneteau 3 monohulls from Concarneau, France, towards St. Barthelemy in the Caribbean's Leeward Islands.
Impressively, after sailing almost 3,500 nautical miles, there's less than a 15-mile delta separating Alexis Thomas and Pauline Courtois's Wings of the Ocean, which is sitting in first place, from Quentin Vlamynck and Audrey Ogereau's Les Etoiles Finantes, which is in fourth place. In between, Cindy Brin and Thomas Andre, who are sailing aboard Cap St. Barth, and Charlotte Yven and Hugo Dhallenne, who are sailing aboard Skipper Macif, are in second and third place, respectively.
Just 480 nautical miles separate Wings of the Ocean from the finishing line, meaning that all of these crews can expect some seriously competitive racing for the next several days.
They can also expect light and fickle winds, as a large light-wind zone is currently guarding the finishing line.
"We have to both go around it and position ourselves well for what's next," said Thomas André in an official race communication. "It's very stressful, no one dares to take real options. It's tense and nerve-wracking!"
While the Transat Paprec fleet wrestles with light airs and offshore conditions, the 60th anniversary Congressional Cup, which was hosted by the Long Beach Yacht Club, in Long Beach, California, was also decided by a final day of light-air sailing.
Swiss skipper Eric Monnin and his Capvis Swiss Match Racing Team managed to beat American skipper Chris Poole's Riptide Racing crew in a game of inches to don the event's signature crimson blazer. Australian skipper Cole Tapper and his CYCA team finished the prestigious match-racing event in third place.
"Chris put a lot of pressure on us, and we were close to cracking under the it," said Monnin in an official event communication. "But winning this regatta is a big step for us. It's a big deal, and it means a lot to do it with this crew."
Sail-World tips our hat to Monnin and his Capvis Swiss Match Racing Team, and we have our fingers crossed that the wind gods deliver great racing for the crews who are contesting the Transat Paprec.
Finally, for anyone who loves really big boats, check out the coverage of the International Maxi Association's Sandberg PalmaVela, which concluded racing yesterday (Sunday) in a good breeze. This event signals the start of the Mediterranean racing season, and it also marked the racecourse debut for Sir Lindsay Owen-Jones's brand-new Verdier-designed 100-foot Magic Carpet E.
May the four winds blow you safely home.
David Schmidt
Sail-World.com North American Editor