Race 2 - Day 13
Crew Diary - Race 2 Day 13
27 September

No Downs in the Doldrums

Having entered the doldrums and our 60 hours of motoring, sights and routines have changed on the good ship Our Isles and Oceans.

As the wind has died and the sea flattened, our world has compressed to a lifeless and horizon-bound blue disc of water – a very small disc in a very large ocean.

Image: David Spence

This is ‘where hurricanes are born’ (© skipper Max) and the skyscape has taken over. By day, wide blue skies alternate with towering banks of cumulus and dark building storm clouds. At night, the moonlight gives the water a strange mercury-like sheen, sadly beyond the capture capability of any camera on board, and shooting stars are a regular sight. Under the clouds, the wind dies, gusts and veers from moment to moment.

Since passing the Cape Verdes we’ve barely seen sight of other human presence – there are no fishing boats in these waters, the Clipper Race fleet has spread beyond AIS range and we’re not on any airline routes; even the ISS has stayed below the horizon.

In the midst of the emptiness we still passed within a mile of a large cargo vessel last night though – AQP Tom swapped the usual short ‘course confirmation’ radio call (the polite way of checking their watch keeping is effective and they’ve noticed that a small sailing vessel is in the vicinity) for a round of nautical speed dating and returned to the deck with a full report on their routing, cargo and destination.

Eat, sleep, sail, repeat*… it’s a cliché but it sums up the incessant rhythm of sailing life on board as watch teams rotate through the constant cycle of keeping the boat racing hard, small problems fixed, and crew nourished.

(*Or more accurately on OIAO given our three-watch system… sail, long sleep, sail, short sleep, cook/clean/support, repeat… interspersed with eating on a near continuous basis… repeated seven times to get back to where we started in the cycle six days later and then start it all again… simples.)

With the motor, sail changes and the myriad of other sailing evolutions are on hold though and a flurry of maintenance has broken out whenever the sun is up. Jammers have been serviced, decks washed, truculent lines milked and whipped, metal sail shackles switched to soft, and Max and Tom have done wonders with dyneema and spectra. (If half of that sentence makes no sense don’t worry… your friends and family are becoming rapidly fluent in the oddities of nautical speak and will be able to translate on return).

Skye Watch have dispatched Colin and Frankie armed with sharpies to attempt to deal with our “individualistic” approaches to line and kitchen utensil storage (good luck!), Rum Watch have continued their quest to maximise baking innovation in the galley and on Mull watch Anita has been demonstrating her zen-like helming skills with the Windseeker.

Morale remains high; even Max’s declaration that we still have more miles to go to Punta del Este than the whole of Leg 2 and the victuallers’ imposition of a crisp rationing regime (leading to periodic scenes reminiscent of feeding time at the zoo) have failed to dampen spirits. Next up is a motoring rendezvous with our friends on Washington DC, to trade our precious stock of frozen M&Ms.

Then on to the Equator… we’re hoping to strike smart/lucky with the fluctuating winds as we exit the doldrums and break into the southern trade winds. A couple of good tropical showers wouldn’t go amiss either, to wash down the sweaty and probably slightly smelly Our Isles and Oceans crew.