Stage 1, Day 2: A day without trackers

Let’s start with this: We hear you, we know, and we’re sorry. We feel it too. 

In an age of internet ubiquity, when AI is poised to anticipate your every need, take your job and ply you with every fact and product ever created, R2AK is stuck in Windows 95. Today’s world operates at the speed of Amazon and Alexa. This year we’re struggling for even Clippy-level performance. Blame solar flares, Russian hackers seeking revenge for the Ukrainian anthem we played at the start, or a guy named Shane in New Zealand, but one thing can’t be denied: the tracker suuuuucks this year. 

It’s not heresy, the pain is real. For us too. Despite rumors and our need to make rent next week, so far there is no R2AK prime premium plus champagne room subscription package that gets you (and/or us) access to 100% reliable, accurate, and up-to-date information. Our crew is working on it, but right now it looks like there’s a wellspring of suck that lies somewhere between the trackers, the satellite, and a guy named Shane in New Zealand. 

We’ve called, urged, begged, and come as close to threatening as Canadian etiquette and our good upbringing would allow. The result: still broken. Boats dropped off the map with their tracker unit blinking green and totally functional. 

While we would never ask R2AK fans to stone a witch or storm the capital on our behalf, MAProgress’s website does “welcome feedback to help make our system even better,” and in the spirit of togetherness we thought you might like to know that. Stand by and stand down, or just join us in rage screaming into a pillow. We’re in this together.

Even without the struggles of Shane in New Zealand, since all but two teams had finished Stage 1, Day 2 was a day largely free of tracker frustration. Just after midnight the tidally challenged passage of Team Supernautiloid rowed its way into the warm embrace of Victoria and closed the door as Stage 1’s final finisher of 2023 and joined the rest of the fleet in R2AK’s maple-flavored waiting room. 

352233718 634321808305534 6486424272528787243 N
Team Unsalted Nuts creating a “super fancy and awful” rowing station.

Since R2AK’s inception, the Victoria lay day was designed as a buffer between racer enthusiasm and the lessons of reality. Unlike MAProgress, other than the voices in their head and the cacophony of social media, the only feedback loop that really matters is what happens on the course. Author/sailor Francis Stokes put it better than most: “The sea finds out everything you did wrong,” and every year Victoria’s dockside lay days have been about responding to that definitive and sometimes violent performance review. 

This year was no different. The docks were abuzz with repairs to boat and body alike. Dock to dock, wrenches turned on pedal drives, gear was burped out of drybags then stowed and restowed, hatches sealed, rigs checked and rechecked as teams crammed for R2AK’s final exam to Ketchikan. The most visual display of Stage 1’s learning curve were the shavings of Team Unsalted Nuts, whose recently discovered deep hatred for their oars sent them to Lumber World to find the wood that they were whittling from board to oar shape in the hours before the skippers meeting; sawdust and shavings flying in the afternoon sun. 

The only compulsory extracurricular of the day was the skippers’ meeting and send-off party. In a race where finishers reach Ketchikan between 4 days and never, the send-off is the last time this community of adventurers will convene as a group. After the detailed logistics of the start, and the Canadian Coast Guard offered sobering words of just how little support racers could expect if they got into trouble on British Columbia’s remote coast, the evening downshifted into the kind of last supper celebration that found racers oscillating between swapping sea stories, rubbing their foreheads about a burly offshore forecast, and snapping some pics at the selfie station concocted by 2022 alumni Team Fashionably Late—who flew in for the party and arrived uncharacteristically early to set it up. 

The last team on the course was Team Jackalope who were forced to throw in the towel after spending the full 36 hours of Stage 1 suffering through light winds and massive tides. With limited ability to sail and a pedal drive that could propel them at not quite two knots, they were swept north and miles away from the finish line on Day 1’s monster of an incoming tide. Yesterday they clawed their way within 3 miles of the harbor mouth before the tide went against them again. Rather than getting swept back north, they threw out the anchor to wait. 

Anchor? In a race? When the tide is running against you at five knots and you can only pedal two, in the face of going backwards the fastest option is to not move at all. 

But time ran out faster than the tide would change, so a little after Stage 1’s deadline, Jackalope accepted their fate and called for a tow. Maybe next year.  

In a moment that can only be described as apex R2AK, when news that Team Jackalope’s tow was entering the harbor, a squad of racers and volunteers left the skippers’ meeting to welcome and celebrate Jackalope’s efforts and drag them to the party. When they entered the entire room offered a congratulatory and sustained applause. Rules are rules, and they won’t be advancing to the second stage, but their hard fought efforts are R2AK to the core. The hero’s welcome was far from performative; those guys gave it their all. Our hunch is that we’ll see them again. 


Stage 2 starts Thursday, and the five teams that are cleared and considered for the outside route are looking at a forecast of 40 knots on the nose. 40 knots, upwind, off of the coast of Vancouver Island that is affectionately known as the “Graveyard of the Pacific.” 


Alternately, the inside route transits past the somewhat less menacing “Sunshine Coast.” The choice is stark: 300 miles of getting kicked in the teeth by an open ocean gale while sailing over the ghosts of those who made the same choice, or take your chances with the bears, whirlpools, driftwood, and copious sunscreen of the inside route. We won’t know which flavor of horrible they choose until race day. The suspense is killing us. 

Victoria’s docks are open for the public this afternoon, race start is tomorrow at high noon. Ready or not, R2AK. 

Header photo by Kelsey Fletcher