"All hands on deck!" It's dark. What time is it? What's going on? There is no time to think as I leap out of my bunk in my underpants, grabbing my PFD and tether as I run up the companionway passing Bill on my way to the cockpit, as he leaped below repeating the call "All hands!" There is no time for clothing, no room for modesty.

On deck, the boat seems stable but we're slow, Carl is on the wheel pointing forward, and Bill is below now, but where's Maggie? Looking forward, the spinnaker is backwinded and collapsed beginning to wrap around the forestay, but there's Maggie - hanging airborne holding onto the spinnaker sheet.

"Hold on!" I shouted as I scrambled across the foredeck to grab the wildly flogging spinnaker, leaping upwards to grab the sheet with Maggie. Using our combined body weight and gravity, the spinnaker is again under control, it has begun to unwrap, and we're moving again. The cockpit trimmer trims the sheet on, and we're racing once more. Crisis averted.

As the adrenaline subsides, we debrief following our values and mantra - Crew, Craft, and Mission:

Crew, Craft, and Mission. These three small words carry a lot of meaning, and we practice them to guide our situational response and what we prioritize before, during, and after sailing.

Crew. We only have one crew, and the quickest way to lose a sailboat race is to hurt somebody. Racing competitiveness aside, safety and crew wellbeing are our top priorities. It's a non-negotiable that we keep each other safe, behave safety, we speak up when something seems off, if we need help, or if we're not feeling well.

Craft. We're out in the middle of the ocean, and we only have one boat. There is no place to stop, and there is no marine chandlery to replace broken parts. The second quickest way to lose a sailboat race is to break the boat. Accordingly, we treat the boat with respect, operating it within its limits and our own, inspecting and repairing it as soon as something is suspect, and keeping everything in bristol condition fit for purpose. It is our safest lifeboat thousands of miles from the nearest landfall.

Finally, the mission is the last priority. There is no ability to complete the mission without the crew and the craft, and I certainly would never sacrifice the crew to complete the mission. In my next post, I'll explore the mission further and how I approach aligning values and goals to a lofty mission such as racing to Hawaii and getting a podium finish.

Returning to the cockpit, my heart is racing. It's day 10 or whatever in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It's hot, I'm soaking wet, and sitting around in my underwear while I calm down is a welcome relaxation. Despite the alarm, it is a particularly beautiful night, the stars are out, the moon lighting our way and we are flying downwind under spinnaker.