Trans Tasman, Double-Handed: 1,000 Miles Upwind and the Learning You Earn

I have logged more than 130,000 nautical miles offshore, and I still rate double-handed sailing as one of the purest ways to train. You cannot hide behind numbers. There is no spare pair of hands, no quiet moment where someone else solves the problem. The boat is always asking the question: can you do this well, tired, wet, and alone on deck?

This Trans Tasman crossing gave us exactly what we needed. Not drama. Not heroics. Just honest mileage and a lot of useful learning.

1. Upwind for 1,000 miles changes your mindset

We were upwind again for around 1,000 nautical miles. That kind of sailing turns into a rhythm: steer, trim, ease, build, repeat. You live by small gains. You also become very aware of what creates unnecessary load on the boat and the crew.

That is why we were so happy to get the A7 up. It was not just a sail choice; it was relief. The boat stood up, the motion softened, and we could shift from slamming mode into performance mode. When you find a configuration that reduces crab walking and increases speed, you feel it in your whole body.

2. Reefing and sail changes are better training when you have to do them solo

Double-handed means you will end up doing jobs solo. That is not a nice to have skill, it is an essential one.

With varing wind strengths, our training in reefing and sail changes became the norm.  Getting to the solo stage came in steps, with one person running the deck while the other managed the systems. Once this was trained and confidence gained, we progressed to one person standing in the hatch ready for action (that was never needed). Then we were fulling off solo reefing and sail changes. It forces discipline: preparation, sequence, and tidy execution. If you rush, you pay. If you skip steps, you create risk. If you stay calm and methodical, you get clean changes without chaos.

The real win is confidence. You start to trust your own process and your own judgement.

3. Navigation practice matters more when the margin is smaller

With two people, fatigue management is the whole game. That makes navigation more demanding, because you are always balancing rest with attention.

This crossing delivered good navigation practice. Not just plotting and checking, but building a simple routine that can survive tired brains. The goal is not cleverness. The goal is consistency. The best navigation is the kind you can do accurately at 2am when you would rather be asleep.

4. The quiet success: we protected the boat

One of the outcomes I am most proud of is that we saved the equipment and ourselves from breakages.

That is seamanship, and it is leadership. In offshore racing, people sometimes treat breakages as inevitable. I do not. You can sail hard and still protect the boat if your systems are sound, your loads are managed, and you are willing to ease early rather than repair late.

We made choices that kept Vixen intact, and that means she is ready for the next phase without carrying hidden damage.

5. Trim work gets sharper when you have time to test

Because we were not rotating through a full crew structure, we had moments where the job was simply to steer well and learn the boat.

We worked on trimming different sails at different angles and in different wind strengths, and it was genuinely valuable. You do not always get that in a busy program. Double-handed creates space for focus. You can feel what the sail wants, how the helm responds, how small adjustments change the boat’s behaviour.

These are the gains that turn into speed later, because you learn what the boat likes before the pressure moments arrive.

6. Food is morale, but it is also performance

We tried more freeze-dried food. Confirmed again that we are still happier with what we already have.

That is not a criticism of freeze-dried; it is just a preference and a reality check. Food offshore has to do three things: go down easily, keep you fuelled, and not feel like slop!

On that note, the snacks prepared by Deb and Lynn were outstanding. Thoughtful, easy to eat, and exactly what you want when the conditions are wearing you down. In small crews, snacks are not a treat; they are a strategy.

7. We now have a short job list that will make life easier and the boat faster

Every crossing adds a few small items to the list. The trick is to keep it small, specific, and worth doing.

We finished with a short list of jobs that will make life easier onboard and target performance. Not major refits. Practical improvements that reduce friction, improve efficiency, and lift repeatability. That is how you build a better boat over time.

8. The people matter, even when there are only two of you

I really enjoy sailing with Taylor Edwards, our Boat Captain.

Double-handed sailing demands trust. It demands clear communication, shared standards, and the ability to be calm when you are tired. Taylor brings that. It makes the boat feel steadier, and it makes decision-making cleaner. I would choose that dynamic again every time.

The bottom line

Vixen is a great boat to sail. She is fast, responsive, and honest. She tells you when you are doing it right, and she tells you when you are not.

This crossing was not about bravado. It was about building capability. We trained in sail handling and reefing under real load, sharpened our navigation routines, protected the boat from damage, and learned more about trim across a wide range of angles and strengths.

That is exactly what we want from a double-handed Trans Tasman: Hard miles, smart decisions, and a better platform at the end.