Over a year ago, my boyfriend Jack and I sat in a booth at the Sloop Tavern with a pen and paper, trying to figure out how much it would cost to do the 2026 Pacific Cup on our Hobie 33 TC. With a bit of delusional planning, we decided we could make it work (spoiler: it cost way more than planned).

We wanted four people for our crossing—enough to both push the boat and still get a little sleep along the way. We called our friends David Rogers and Taylor Joosten, a power couple we raced against every Monday night on their Pyramid 30, Scheme. In the 2024 Pac Cup, David and Taylor won the Doublehanded Class on the Dogpatch 26, Moonshine. We asked if they wanted to do a “double date to Hawaii” and, for some awesome reason, they said yes!

That decision may be the single biggest reason we made it across in one piece. David and Taylor spent the next year keeping us from making rookie mistakes, splicing new running rigging on their couch, and fielding our daily questions. Meanwhile, Jack and I built out a race schedule that combined our favorite PNW regattas and a few events on the California coast. We also tackled a number of refit projects—”date night” now meant a Tyvek suit, boat work, and an Un Bien sandwich.

On a late-June Friday, about a week before our start, we drove TC south down I-5. There was a long list of tasks to finish before we could sail away, but somehow we pulled it all together.

The night before we left to cross the Pacific after ordering pizza and doing the last-minute packing, we held an 11 p.m. team meeting to talk through goals, communication, and how we’d handle conflict—two couples sailing to Hawaii together sounded, to some people, like a recipe for disaster. We were the youngest team in the fleet, up against seasoned ocean racers, boat designers, and meteorologists. We set our sights on beating our own predicted rating, not anyone else’s boat, and wrote four mantras inside the hull: Care for each other. No macho. Sleep is a weapon. Full send.

Then morning came, and we were off.

July 7–8: The J2 High Clew

We beat out of San Francisco Bay and under the Golden Gate Bridge. Although the Hobie doesn’t love beating upwind in big seas, we knew that we had to hang in there for a few hours. We made the final tack of the race onto starboard and began the long windy reach off the coast. The motion was sickening, lurching over waves and taking surf over the deck. We rapidly went from feeling great and eating Spam musubis to cleaning them up off the deck.

Onboard Update: “I’m so glad we didn’t have to beat upwind for too long because it was PAINFUL. We were able to crack off after one hour and have been sailing TWA 115-135 since, full main, J2 high clew, and genoa staysail. Pretty ideal for us, the boat is ripping. Chasing down ‘IO in front of us and trying to put distance on the boats behind us. ‘These Mai Tais better be worth it’ – I said as I put my soaking wet clothes on to go out on deck.”

We were lucky with great wind conditions early on: 20–25 knots shifting behind us into the synoptic breeze. Even though it made for an intensely wet, cold first few days, TC was flying—consistently sitting at 10 knots and peaking into the 20s.

Coming out of the gate, we took a track that was farther south than most boats in our fleet. We had great wind, it was a fast course for us, and we knew the wind would continue to veer behind us and allow us to put up a kite pretty soon.

Speaking of being wet:

“The boat is absolutely soaked inside, we’re sponging each watch. Leaking from places I didn’t know existed. Sleeping bags are wet, all our warm gear is wet, but we’re in good spirits. At least it gets warmer from here? We’re drinking water and eating small food, it’s REAL lumpy so none of us are in the mood for meals.”

If you choose to sail a Hobie 33 offshore, you simply accept that it will be wet. Most of the water was coming in the front hatch and companionway as we entered soaked, and a few unsealed bolts didn’t help either. Sitting on deck, getting blasted like a firehose, wave after wave found its way inside our gear. To make matters worse, my new pair of “offshore” bibs were anything but waterproof, letting ocean water straight through their “waterproof” zipper.

We ran two teams of two (couples together), doing three-hour watches by day and two-hour watches at night. Changing shifts meant climbing out of a wet sleeping bag and squeezing back into wet foulies over damp wool base layers. Shorter watches kept us fresh and focused on deck. At each shift change, we would do a small handoff sharing how we were sailing the boat, trends in the wind or waves we were noticing, and any changes we made. The communication on our team was really awesome, with a collective attitude of “what can I do to make us go faster” as we started our watch.

We flew our North Sails J2 from 2005 hard until the foot began delaminating—an old dog having its glorious final run in the pasture. It was our early-reaching MVP.

July 9-10: The A5 & A2.5

“We put up a spinnaker! The A5 is flying proudly, broad reaching in 20-30 knots and blasting through waves. David thinks we were the first of our fleet to put up a kite! Last night was cold and incredibly wet, no moon so it’s a bit like riding Space Mountain where all of a sudden you drop down a wave you can’t see. Super f***ing fun driving through. Really getting to push the boat and see its speed potential.”

Blast-reaching with the A5 was my favorite part of the race; we hit top speeds of 21-22 knots. We also started having some issues. A massive wave came over the leeward side, filling the stern where our Dan Buoy was stored. Activated by water, the 7-foot yellow emergency beacon deployed inside the motor compartment. Without a spare CO2 canister to repack it, we chose to leave it inflated in the stern.

Water also started getting into our electronics panel beneath the companionway, killing our USB port and causing an electrical gremlin with the 12V adapter that temporarily shut down instruments during phone charging. We conserved power until lighter conditions allowed us to isolate the issue.

Despite the chaos, several factors kept our spirits high:

• The Dodger: Built by Jeff Snell at Seattle Marine Canvas, it kept the interior significantly drier than we might have been.
• Sails from Ballard/Doyle Sails: Our A5, A1.5, A2+ and spinnaker staysail were absolute weapons. Our sailmaker friends and fellow ocean racers understood the assignment when we asked for good offshore kites.
• New Rudder: Larry Tuttle’s modern high-aspect rudder saved us from many wipe-outs and made the boat a lot more safe.
• Carbon Ring Frames: Installed with Kris Henderson, these kept the 1980s hull incredibly stiff and tracking as one unit down waves.
• Food: Taylor’s homemade frozen meals (pasta, Swedish meatballs, burritos) were game-changers. We also focused on having lots of quick grab-n-go snacks. Since boiling the jetboil was a big task on your off-watch, we just did it once per day to make dinner.
• Preventative Checks: David and Taylor led nightly deck checks for any potential breakages and chafing, and caught many things!
• Vibes: While our competitive spirit remained, the vibes on board were constantly positive and goofy. We had so many belly laughs, dirty jokes, and karaoke moments that made me so happy. I appreciate that we could be silly and goofy while also being competitive. It is very mentally challenging to be racing on the ocean for 10 days and it’s important to remember to enjoy it.

“Wind still 15-20 knots. Flying the A2.5 now. Nights are getting hard, we’ve been so wet and so focused on pushing hard. David’s quote of the day is ‘The Hobie 33 really is a weapon but it’s also a torture device.’ Back and neck are so sore, taking ibuprofen scheduled. We still love each other, lots of laughs and good tunes playing on the speaker!”

Our strategy remained the same, we were one of the south-most boats and we were sailing our boat as fast as possible. We were holding position really well. The Antrim 27, ‘Io was even farther south and always a bit faster, their boat seems to have excelled in the reaching conditions, but they owed us time so we knew we just had to stay within striking distance.

July 11-12: The A1.5

“Last night got a bit emotional for me. It was the first night we could really see the stars and just got struck with that overwhelming feeling of peace and awe. It makes you think back to everything in your life that led you to this point. All the sleepless nights we spent sanding inside of this boat, installing ring frames and making it safe for the journey and now it’s rewarding us with carrying us across an ocean that few people in the world get to experience in this way.

“It made me think of [my uncle] Todd, who this boat is named after and how he’s up there somewhere cheering us along and sending us little puffs of wind when we need it. Not everyone has the same emotion tied to the name TC, but I like to think that it can mean something different to everyone—to honor someone who can’t be with you anymore, or who inspired you to do crazy things…”

“We feel so lucky to be experiencing this journey with our best friends and partners in life. As Jack and I were losing focus and feeling exhausted at the end of our 1-3 a.m. shift, David and Taylor came out singing the chorus of ‘Rich Girl’. I’m learning so much about offshore sailing from them and it’s so fun to see how well they work together as a team and how we’ve all bonded. Could not ask for a better team… ”

“The boat and gear is holding up…. It seems that chafe is our biggest enemy here, both on the gear and on our butts.”

David kept us updated on the fleet, comparing our average speeds and course over ground to our competitors. While our focus was always on driving the boat as fast as humanly possible, having real-time data to prove our strategies were paying off kept the fire burning.

Honestly, I don’t think many people could have pulled off what he did. Inside TC, there’s no designated chart table or nav station, so he was constantly squeezed into awkward positions, sitting on the floor or crammed in a corner. How he didn’t get sick staring at a computer screen while the boat bucked underneath him, I’ll never know. David also never got a break from navigation, no matter the watch schedule, so he was balancing sailing the boat and often using precious off-watch time to do the routing and position updates.

What I appreciated most, though, was how he communicated. True to our “no macho” motto, David welcomed every question and made us part of the decision-making process. He never just handed down a compass heading; instead, he oriented us to the overarching goal for the next few hours and instructed us to simply sail the boat as fast as possible. Rather than forcing us into awkward angles to hit a specific line on the chart, he empowered us to find the best mode for the wind and wave conditions, teaching us how to read the clouds and make smart calls on our own.

He led with a rare mix of confidence and humility. Knowing he always had a solid plan allowed me to focus entirely on driving hard and pushing the boat to its limits. An absolute wizard and an incredible teacher—I’m deeply grateful for everything I learned from him.

July 13-16: The A2+

“Around dinner time we (finally) put up our A2+, a successful peel, and then hoisted our spinnaker staysail and genoa staysail. This was the glorious moment we have been waiting for this whole trip! Fully powered-up ocean VMG, masthead running kite with the inner staysails directing flow over the kite and main keeping the boat surging down waves…. We then proceeded to have a beautiful 15-20 knots evening with a gorgeous sunset and our last real dinner we had frozen in boil bags. Overnight, the wind actually built and we were absolutely ripping down waves hittin’ boat speeds of 16-plus knots. Somewhere in the middle of the night David and Taylor noticed the boat slowed down and the rudder was feeling off, so we decided to back down. A quick letterbox and a very disorienting 180 degree turn in pitch black and 27 knots was not my version of fun… After going backwards in the middle of the Pacific Ocean we turned back on course and re-launched the kite.”

Our “triple-heading” setup—flying the masthead kite along with a spinnaker staysail tacked to windward and our genoa staysail aft of it—was our “secret weapon.” This was a mode we had practiced and knew would be advantageous. Most boats in these Hawaii races use a spinnaker staysail, but a triple-headed setup is rare for a boat under 45 feet, especially one without a bowsprit. The Hobie benefits from an exceptionally long bow for its size, which allows enough room in the foretriangle to fit two staysails. Under the ORR rule, staysails are essentially “free” sail area, provided they do not exceed the size of the largest headsail in your inventory. Our pair of staysails increased our downwind sail area by about 20%, but did not boost our top speeds. Rather, the boat was easier to get on step, was quicker to start surfing again after slowing down, sustained longer periods of surfing due to the increased horsepower, maintaining a higher average speed over the course of the race. We flew this mode for the next 1,000 miles and were very pleased with it.

“We’re really happy with where we’re at. We have such a competitive class, [David is] saying that there’s only a little over an hour separation in the top three boats at the moment. Have to keep the pedal to the metal! Keep the big kite up and all the staysails!

Halfway party was a blast! We had a variety of candies, cookies, and fun letters from friends and family! Friends gave us some relaxing face masks that we put on and enjoyed the cooling sun protection it provided, plus a good laugh at how silly we look.

TC has been really dialed in today, I spent a few hours driving with the afterburners on, in 25+ knots surfing down waves, top speed of today 21+. David called it ‘crash and burn’ mode and reminded me that wipeouts are costly! Super happy with our new rudder, it certainly saved our butts quite a few times.”

“Last night was a BEAUTIFUL starry night, saw so many shooting stars and the Milky Way. We had a plan that we’d hit our jibe right at first light so we’d be able to see what we were doing, however, we have been outperforming our polars and ended up ready to jibe earlier than expected! An offshore jibe takes a lot longer to prepare, involving moving our stack pack, all of our bedding and gear inside, and prepping the new sheets, guys, and both staysails.

Taylor has been an absolute rockstar on bow, somehow managing to get both staysails down, stack pack moved and new sheet run without even using a headlamp in the absolute darkest conditions I’ve ever been in. We took our time to get ready, probably about 45 minutes of preparation before we were ready. Taylor’s quote of ‘slow is smooth and smooth is fast’ was our motto for this maneuver. Then when everyone was double, triple, quadruple ready, we started our turn and executed a perfect jibe. Then Taylor had to do all that work again, both staysails up, etc and got settled into port jibe! We’ve been on starboard for literally the entire race after a few momentary tacks in the start, so it feels funny to be on port!

A note about the incredible Taylor Joosten; the word “badass” doesn’t even fully encompass this amazing human. While her official role on the bow of TC is a very complicated one with different halyards and sheets and guys galore, but she went above and beyond the whole race. She would never complain when we’d wake her from her off-watch to put up a different kite or another staysail. On watch, she would often be the only one on deck while David was down below navigating, she drove TC so well and had so many go-fast tips to teach me when we’d handoff the watch. I learned a lot from her about how to sail and trim the boat fast through the waves. Truly one of the most incredible people I’ve ever sailed with, and so intelligent about every aspect of offshore racing. I’ve thought of Taylor as a role model for a long time, and it was so cool to spend this time together and have so much fun while also winning!

“Never did I truly imagine we’d be in this position, and we’re so lucky to be here together. We’ve poured our hearts and souls and thousands of hours of preparation into this race, and now we’re focusing in on the last 500 miles.

I start to think about worst case scenarios of breaking something big, losing someone overboard, etc., so it’s humbling as hell to know that there’s still so much we can’t control. But we’re going around frequently doing rig checks, chafe checks, hull deck joint inspections. This amazing boat has got us here so far and it only has a little longer!

David had a great reminder today that even though we want to rush to get there and we’re tired, that these are going to be some of the best 500 miles of sailing of our entire life and to cherish every moment. Eat, sleep, surf down waves at 18 knots, repeat.”

At this point we were leading our class and sitting second overall. Then, the spinnaker pole track began peeling off the mast due to sheared rivets. We temporarily flew the kite off the bow tack while Jack and David spent 45 minutes banging, bending, sawing, prying, praying, and clamping… and we were back in business. This was only fixable because Taylor found it before it had completely ripped of.

“Spinnaker pole ring is stronger than ever and only ~8 inches higher than it was, and that’s exactly where we wanted it to be anyways.”

“So close yet so far! Wind is up and down a lot, moving a bit slower but still ticking away miles. We’re all getting really excited! David gave us the official direction of ‘This heading is to the finish line at Kaneohe!’ Prepping for our last night shifts! (Hopefully) I have to try to sleep even though it’s hard! Excited for the Mai Tais and a long shower!”

July 17: The Finish

TC’s Final Pac Cup 2026 Update: “What a ride! Pacific Cup 2026 is a race we won’t forget. We’re filled with gratitude this morning.

Thank you to the Pacific Cup Yacht Club organizers, race committee, and all the volunteers. It’s impressive to see everyone come together and put on such an amazing event.

We want to take a moment to honor the boat’s namesake, Todd Christensen ‘TC’ who is no longer with us physically but probably up in these stars smiling down on us. A favorite quote from Todd was, ‘Never stop learning, never stop chasing what makes you feel alive’.

And a final thank you to our biggest supporter, Dean Christensen, Todd’s dad. Thank you for everything and it’s been an honor to carry Todd’s name and legacy with us across the Pacific. Sail on Super Todd!”

Sailing the final 20 miles into Kaneohe, the emotion hit hard. We had done it, gave it everything we had, pushed as hard as we could, fully sent it 100%. I was so proud, so grateful to have had this experience, so happy to share it with these wonderful people, so overwhelmed for all the love and support we felt before and during, so indebted for this amazing boat that carried us here. Seeing the lush island rise on the horizon, we flew our triple-headed sail plan with pride, sailing a slightly hotter-than-necessary angle so we were going fast and looking cool!

Seeing my family approach on the escort boat, my dad holding a video camera; I knew that whatever pride I felt, he felt a hundred times over. He’s always been my inspiration and biggest supporter, and seeing him out there as we finished was unforgettable.

We crossed the finish line with an incredible swirl of joy, relief, and exhaustion. After over 2,000 miles, our team executed a flawless letterbox douse. The escort boat guided us safely through Kaneohe Bay’s stunning blue water, sandbars, and reefs. Down below, we put on our only clean clothes: custom aloha shirts embroidered by Kam Gear.

We tied up at the marina—the third boat to reach the dock after Beneteau First 36 Rahan and ‘Io. A huge crowd of family and friends cheered as we arrived. After passing inspection, the tears flowed. I drank a heavenly Mai Tai (it was worth it!), ate fresh pineapple, and was showered with leis.

My cup was overflowing with love and support from all the text messages and calls I’ve received congratulating us after the race.

Looking back, our blissful ignorance was a gift. Life is short, and we chased this dream before we felt entirely ready. But we did the prep, had an incredible crew, and brought the right attitude. I’d do it again tomorrow. We finished still loving each other, and now David and Taylor are part of our honorary family!

Since J/92 Zaff was behind us on corrected time, we couldn’t celebrate right away. But a few days later, clean and rested at the Kaneohe Yacht Club ceremony, team TC was honored with these awards:

1st in ORR Class 3

3rd Overall Pacific Cup

1st ORR Corinthian Team

10 days 7 hours 15 minutes 01 second

Standing on that stage among such legendary, experienced sailors was surreal. I can’t describe the pride, not just for the result, but for who we did it with and the way we stayed true to our goals—caring for each other, no macho, full send.

I want to congratulate every one of our competitors who also pushed their boats. It truly could have been anyone’s race, and I’m privileged to be a part of this awesome community.

Finally, to Jack—the reason this all happened. You may think I was the driving force but really Jack was the dreamer who made it a reality. He is the most intelligent, thoughtful, hardworking incredible man, and his passion for sailing is something I love so much about him. I truly could not imagine a better person to share my life with and to forever be doing boat work with. Thank you for inspiring me every day and for making this dream of ours a reality. You’ve changed my life. If this is what we’re doing at age 26, I’m so excited to see what else we dream up for our future. I love you.

JJ Hoag is a lifelong Puget Sound sailor who works as a nurse when she’s off the water.