Race 4 - Day 6
Crew Diary - Race 4 Day 5
01 January

The blissful simplicity of shift life.

It’s Monday morning and I wake up. Noise, smells, and sensations crash into the foreground of my mind like an old friend appearing unannounced. On any other Monday morning, the grind would have begun with “Who do I need to call? What emails need to be sent? What is going to be on TV later? Who am I having lunch with etc, etc...

But unlike my normal Monday, I find myself almost 1000 miles off the coast of Australia. As that reality dawns on my mind once more as it has every morning, I shake off the pre-programmed anxiety of what I ‘should’ be thinking about and prep myself for my shift.

This ‘shaking off’ is something that took me by surprise when we first set off. I had not realised how society had programmed me to quite that extent. Being concerned about the same things over and over again, the inconsequential consequential worries, thoughts and anxieties that subtly plague us in our day to day lives. But on the boat, they truly are inconsequential. A Clipper Race is the great perspective giver, unrelentingly shining a stark contrasting light on what is important in life and what really isn’t.

It can be quite an unsettling gift that the Clipper Race gives- at first. The time, the nature, the simplicity of life on board brings you back to base instincts. As a result, a rawer, more genuine you emerges from the routine - that instinct to pick up your phone, death scroll through Instagram, check your emails or text your friends. It disappears so quickly, replaced by ‘eat, sleep, sail, repeat’.

Now that may not sound totally appealing at first but bear with me here. There are next to no opportunities in life to genuinely disconnect from the frantic world around us and reconnect with our authentic selves. Not to mention having a great time doing it. Yeah you could go on a meditative retreat or be with nature but this is different. The nature of the Clipper Race is that the situation you find yourself in resonates with the base level of your own humanity. Community, supporting one another, making sure you and they are fed and you are collectively pulling your weight towards getting back home. There is nothing quite like it in that regard.

Despite the crashing and bashing of the waves, the crunching of the grinders and the flogging of the sheets and sails, the sensation of peace in my mind that has washed over me after a week is astounding. Things that would usually irritate me bounce off me. I cooked three meals for 20 people and loved it. (Cooking is usually the bane of my existence!) It leaves me thinking every morning, “What could I discover next?”

This process, as wonderful as it is, is tiring and, like all good things, doesn’t come easily. It requires investment and openness. Many of us, myself included, are pre-programmed to find comfort, to crave it and that’s okay. That’s what society has done to all of us. The gift that the Clipper Race gives is a chance - like no other - to take stock, to gain perspective on who you are, what is important and, most critically, to find joy in the little things.