olent lurching slammed the boom so hard that the gooseneck broke, causing Passage II to seek temporary shelter at Punta Baja before limping back to San Diego for repairs. A few hours down the track, off the NE point of Isla Navidad, Phileta Riley and Dorothy Tharsing's Oregon-based Cal 35 Eagle called for help after snagging a fish pot and dragging it into 340 feet of water. Her over-60 crewmembers were greatly relieved when Rally Committee member Don Hall volunteered to brave the lumpy seas and cut the veritable sea anchor free of their prop. They too, had lost the use of their main when a slam-jibe tore loose the traveler. Nevertheless, they sailed into Turtle Bay under jib alone with Ivan Lalovic's Swan 391 Vento shadowing them all the way, just in case. As tumultuous as Leg One was for some boats, it was an absolute glory ride for others — picture Cap'n Dan screaming to the heavens in that epic storm scene from Forrest Gump. Reports of blown sails and busted gear were contrasted with exuberant boasts of eye-popping speed records: Albatross, Douglas Schneeman's 16.5-ton Seamaster 46 hit 15.4 knots while steamrolling down the face of a wave, and Rotkat, the sleek 43-ft cat self-built by Arjan Bok, chalked up 19 knots during a gloriously long surf. The custom 45-ft tri Meshach also screamed along in the rough stuff. Unfortunately, though, her cat-rigged
mainsail was so loaded up that owners Thor and Tanya Temme had no way to safely reef it. So Thor ended up handsteering for 17 hours straight while Tanya looked after the kids, Tristan, 6, and Sienna, 3. By Wednesday afternoon (October 28) most Ha-Ha boats were either safely anchored at Turtle Bay, the event's first scheduled stopover, or were ticking off the final 60 miles past Cedros Island and into the bay. Little did they know at the time that 160 miles up the course, roughly 200 miles south of San Diego, the most dramatically dangerous incident in Ha-Ha history was playing out. As you'll read in-depth later in this issue, the J/World sailing school entry — technically named Crosswave, but entered as J World — collided with a humpback whale several times as she sped down the steep swells. The J/120's rudder took the brunt of the final contact with the 30- to 40-foot cetacean, ripping the entire rudder assembly loose from the hull. Efforts to stabilize it and/or plug the gaping hole proved useless, and she sank within 40 minutes. Luckily, the skipper, professional sailing instructor Eugenie Russell, had drilled her crew — three of whom were students — often on what to do in such an emergency. Having activated their EPIRB, all five on board were eventually rescued by a U.S. Coast Guard helicopter team after a nerve-rattling, fourhour ordeal in their liferaft.
D
espite Turtle Bay's dusty, unpaved streets and humble amenities, most visitors come away from a visit to this isolated fishing town with a warm By the middle of Day Three, the swells were so big that all but the biggest hulls disappeared from view in the troughs.
MARK NOYES / DISTANT DRUM
THE BITTER AND THE SWEET
Fishing was rewarding throughout the rally. But, as always, Leg Two saw the biggest catches, such as Petra Weflen's 54-inch dorado.
feeling about both the place and its genuinely friendly people. For many firsttime Ha-Ha'ers, the layover here provides a first look at rural Mexico — what some might call 'the real Mexico'. There are no banks, shopping malls or fast food franchises here. But if you peruse the small tiendas you'll find all sorts of useful products and services: auto parts that are often adaptable to boat systems, a limited selection of fresh produce and staples, freshly baked tortillas and Mexican pastries, and even two cybercafes. Diesel fuel and potable water can be delivered to your boat by two competing services. Because the annual arrival of the Ha-Ha is literally the biggest thing that happens in Turtle Bay all year, the fleet's three-day invasion provides not only a substantial economic boost to the community, but also a welcome dis-