Circe Racing Heritage
Racing Record -
Swiftshure - 1st place 1934, 1935, 1936  Victoria-to-Maui Race - Trans-Pacific/Santa Barbara to Honolulu 2nd place 1936 logged 30,000 miles in ocean racing and cruising on 19 offshore voyages, recorded reached 14.2 KT average for 24 hour period.

From a crew member’s diary


“She was hove-to in mid-Pacific, battling for her life and the lives of those aboard. Captain Ray Cook and his crew were on their way home from the 1939 Trans-Pacific race and caught in the cross shop of a three-day circular storm. Forty-foot swells were running from every quarter when a ‘cumulative wave’ roared down upon them from a distance.   All aboard could hear its coming with a sound right out of hell. The massive swell created and like a cannon shot, crashed and broke directly overheard, and hundreds of tons of water fell down on her, completely submerging her in seconds. Her story might have finished then and there except for the foresight of her designers aboard, Ben and his brother Jack Seaborn. They and Ray Cooke had planned her and built her for just such ocean experience. Circe is her name.


Like her mythological namesake, CIRCE possesses magic powers to attract the sailor and unless he is wary and dominant as was Ulysses, the gods alone know what would be his end. You may remember perhaps that the Goddess CIRCE had the bad form to turn men into swine and it wasn’t until Ulysses came along with his ‘magic herb’ (molly) and dauntless determination that she was brought under control.  When the new mast was restepped in restoration, it was stepped on a sprig of from the herb.

Just so, did Ray Cooke and his young associates establish their control of the cutter CIRCE.


“Canvas sails, wooden spars and few winches by today’s standards made for hard work for the crew. But when Circe heeled to the mounting westerly and shoulder her magnificent way through the Strait of Juan de Fuca, you know that you were aboard a true, sea-going thoroughbred.”


“We had a long, tough beat all that night, tucking in a reef in the early going and shortening down to her double headsail rig. Almost continuous tacking and sail changes had kept food preparation to a bare minimum. The breeze held well during the night and we round at 11:30 a.m. and soon settled into a long awaited broad reach. The incoming ocean well gently lifted Circe time and again as she gurgled and surged forward on her course for Tatoosh.”


“Ray took advantage of the break and went below to cook up our first hot meal. The aromas that floated up through the hatch honed our already ravenous appetites. First call to lunch found most of us below with Ray president at the range. Suddenly Circe lurched and quick as a cat, Tray was up the companionway and calling for all hands on deck. A fluke squall had come off the land as we passed into the entrance of the Straits, precipitating a sudden unexpected jibe. In a matter of minutes we were all straightened away and returned below for our hot grub. What a sight greeted us. A wayward cushion had slide under the counterweight of the gimbaled table and every plate lay upside down on the cabin floor. Hunger prevailed. Eager hands scooped up the food. Never was there a better tasting meal. Served as it was, from the shining teak floor of Circe’s main cabin.”