Race 11 - Day 12
Crew Diary - Race 11 Day 12
15 May
To all you folk out there in Land World, I wanted to reach out and say hello from somewhere currently at the top of Mexico. Trust me, I would much rather be going loco down in Acapulco!
Yesterday, May 11th, was a good day for me – the best boat day so far and I will come back to that.
As a guy with a fairly good routine at home and – dare I say - a tad OCD, it’s been a struggle adapting to boat life and the 24/7 three-watch system which isn't really a routine (it rotates daily with different timings of working on deck, standby, and off/sleep periods), but today my brain finally got it. Well, I thought I had, until a fellow crew member just reminded me that we are on deck in 30 minutes. So, I’m off for now - as by the time I find my kit which should hopefully be where I left it…
LOL!!
So, four days ago was probably the worst boat day. Just 24 hours into the race, the wind picked up. Don’t expect me to know the nautical terms (I’m just a novice sailor with four weeks of training and some champagne and sunshine cruises around the med to add to my sailing CV, with a nice breeze and ice cubes for my G n T’s), but it was flipping windy, swells, surges, wet, cold, and slippery on deck and below. We were a cocktail crew of 20 being shaken about like ping-pong balls in the lottery draw on a Saturday night!
What am I doing here? “Leg 7,” they said. “The easy leg.” A nice three-week hack down to Panama, through the canal, and up through the Caribbean for another couple of weeks to Washington, DC. “Bring plenty of shorts and sun cream.”
That evening I was up on deck for the 11 pm -2 am shift. Getting the soaking-wet kit on took 40 minutes. I was dripping with sweat before I even stepped up the companionway into the dark and stormy evening. Even the moon had had enough.
The next three hours were horrific. It wasn’t my first time working in the dark in extremely rough conditions but somehow three hundred miles offshore seemed somewhat scarier than a mile or two from Cowes.
OK, OK. I was pretty scared, but my adrenaline kicked in and I just got on with whatever I was asked to. The boat was being battered, wave after wave – relentless. Then a big one hit us and I was thrown from the cockpit high-side, hitting my head and various other body parts onto the low-side winch ending up with my body pressed against the guard rail with a mouthful of water. Eventually, I realised I was OK but needed to get back to the cockpit where I huddled up on the floor to catch my breath. Welcome to Ocean Racing.
David saw me go flying and told me to go below to get Carrie - our boat Doc - to check me over: head, ribs, arm. Ouch. I was given some fab painkillers and was ordered to go to bed. I didn’t argue and tried to sleep.
A painful few days followed. The hit to the ribs was, and still is, painful but a constant mix of pills seems to numb the pain.
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It is now May 15th. The last week has flown, and the sailing has been downwind and the sea state calmer, so it’s been much easier to move around the deck and down below.
The last two days, the sun has finally arrived as we move further south. Plenty of sun cream and less clothes. That’s more like it!
My daughter Jordan gave me a bag of different-sized brown envelopes. I opened the one that said, “Open if you think, ‘Why the hell am I doing this?’“ An amazing letter, photograph, and some Jelly Babies. It was really just the tonic I needed (unfortunately no gin, lemon, or ice cubes). Thanks, Jordan – very thoughtful, can’t wait to see you guys in DC.
Sian – if you are reading this (14-5-24) thanks so much for the card (s). It’s so nice to know we have some detox plans.
I’m happy: I’ve had an eight-hour off-watch, managed a shave, some male grooming, hair wash, manicure, and complete kit sort-out. A full spa day - really enjoyed it! My clean clothes are currently drying out on the deck.
The next installment is soon – apparently, there is a hurricane brewing. Hey ho, at least I smell good.
Miss you guys x
Peter Pan!