The race I waited 30 years to start

I have wanted to do a solo ocean race for most of my sailing career. 30 years is a long time to carry a dream, and the thing about dreams like this is that they are not romantic when you finally get close to them.

They become practical.

Engines, pumps, winches, sails, mast, boom, locks, rudders, electronics, autopilots. Weather research, routing, safety checks, food, sleep, family, timing, and the small matter of getting yourself ready to be alone at sea.

The 2026 Solo Trans Tasman Yacht Challenge asked a lot of Vixen Racing and me. We finished with Monohull Line Honours, and I became the first woman to complete the race since 2014. I am proud of that. But what I am most grateful for is what the race taught me about preparation, confidence, and trust.

Most of the race happened before the start

The race itself gets the attention, but most of the work was done months earlier.

There was a huge amount of service work. Engines, pumps, winches, sails, mast and boom systems, locks, rudders, electronics, autopilots.  Every system had to be checked, questioned, serviced, and understood.  A big shout-out to all of our partners for getting me to the start line and the finish line: Nautilus Braids, Oceania Marine Shipyards, DOYLE Sails, Bay of Islands Marina, Predict Wind, PROtect Tape, and icebreaker.

Then there was the rest of life. Family. Weather research. Routing. Myself.

I invested a lot of time in this race, and that investment mattered. It gave me confidence in Vixen Racing, and it gave me confidence in my own ability to problem-solve and fix things if I had to.

Thankfully, there were not many things to fix. That is not luck. That is preparation doing its job.

What the race taught me about myself

I learned that I can handle Vixen Racing and the Tasman in rough conditions. That is a simple sentence, but it means a lot to me. Solo racing strips everything back. There is no one else to look over your shoulder. No one else to make the next call. No one else to get the sail down, check the system, or decide whether to push or protect.

I made some really good navigation decisions. I could see what was about to happen, and I acted in time to keep Vixen humming along.

I also never felt truly alone. That may sound strange in a solo race, but it is true. I was connected to Tui, the autopilot, and to Vixen Racing. The boat has her own rhythm, and when you are paying attention, you feel what she needs before she has to shout.

That connection mattered. It kept me calm. It kept me thinking. It helped me take one correct step at a time.

What I would do differently

The main thing I would do differently is not let myself get as cold as I did on the last night.

I should have gone downstairs earlier, warmed up with hot drinks and food, and found the less wet clothes sooner. When you are racing, there is always a reason to stay on deck a little longer. One more check. One more trim. One more look at the numbers.

But cold changes the quality of your thinking. It creeps in quietly, then suddenly, you are not operating at the level you need.

Putting on the emergency blanket was a brilliant idea. It helped take the wet clothing off my body and gave me back some control. I will remember that. Next time, I will act earlier.

The advice I would give someone thinking about a solo race

If I can race solo competitively, then so can you.

That does not mean it is easy, and it does not mean you can skip the work. But if solo racing is a dream of yours, find a pathway to make it happen. It is an amazing experience and adventure, and it will stay with you forever.

It is a big bucket list goal worth exploring.

The practical advice is simple. Do the miles solo. Know your boat inside and out. Build the confidence before the race starts, not during the race.

You need to understand the systems, the noises, the loads, the way the boat behaves when you are tired, and the conditions are building. Confidence does not come from telling yourself you will be fine. It comes from every solo mile.

The bottom line

Winning Monohull Line Honours was special. Becoming the first woman to complete the Solo Trans Tasman since 2014 was special. But the deepest reward was proving to myself that Vixen Racing and I could cross the Tasman competitively and safely.

That was the real goal.

A 30 year dream does not finish when you cross the line. It changes shape. It becomes something you know about yourself.

And that is worth everything.

Sharon Ferris Choat
Skipper, Vixen Racing