Hello Team,
So, what’s occurring your end, life treating you well, I hope? Good to catch up and see you again.
This end there’s been all sorts going on. We have had thick, and I mean thick, fog. Imagine Hammer House of Horror film thick, both during the day and more challenging at night. Although the fog has acted as a sort of ‘diffuser’ for the moonlight creating quite a good amount of illume on deck to do work in the dark, but not helping with orientation while on the helm.
On top of the fog, we have been dealing with some testing wind conditions. For long periods very little wind, occasionally nothing at all, and we find ourselves drifting back towards Punta or once and twice towards Cape Horn! Then suddenly we would get 14-16kts and think this is it we are off, only to find a short time later, we would slow to a stop and watch the diminishing wavelets overtake us. This has tested the crew in terms helming, trimming and sail changes to try and drive the boat ever quicker to the shores of Africa.
On top of that, the forecast indicated a front coming through during the early hours of Tuesday morning. Having trodden this way before I was very conscious how quickly these can arrive and with very little warning. So, Monday evening, at last light, we switched out the Yankee 1 (max wind strength 16kts) and hoisted the Yankee 3 (max wind strength 34kts) in preparation. We waited. We moved a bit, waited some more. Saw some other Clipper Race boats doing 8 to 10kts around us, while we crawled along, being overtaken by the occasional passing whale.
I spent a number of hours doubting my decision to do the switch early, costing hard earned miles against the rest of the fleet. At 0100 boat time (0400UTC) I handed over to #1, as we drifted around in the dark, listening to the whales breathing around us, in the non-swirling mist. I climbed into my bunk, feeling I had made the wrong decision completely. Then within five minutes, the boat was on its ‘ear’ and I could hear Maisie announcing herself on deck, with the words “Hi guys, it's time to reef.” In fact, she ended up putting 3 reefs in, while I lay in my bunk thinking “Thank god we are not battling sails down on the foredeck.”
Now foredecks and Skippers, don’t normally go together. Skippers get nose bleeds and feel faint headed once they stand fore of the mast while at sea. However, while writing the above paragraph, I heard a bit of a commotion on deck. I thought, ah, the Yankee sheet has come off the drum (winch). I poked my head out of the companionway and was partly right. In fact, the sheet was off the drum, both sheets- the lazy and the active - were flying off to leeward, whipping the ocean surface and part of the active sheet was in the cockpit. Not quite what I was expecting.
Ken had already used the running backstay as a guard to stop the lines flogging into the cockpit, while Ted turned the boat down wind, to get greater distance between the sail, thrashing sheets and cockpit. It was impressive to see that the two Leg 1’ers were thinking safety first. We quickly had the sail down under control on the foredeck, (where I was actually holding onto sails with water coming over the bow and everything!). Replacement sheets attached and the sail re-hoisted in under 35 minutes. Great work.
For me, what made it especially rewarding was when the initial breakage occurred, the first reaction was safety – how do we reduce risk – guard position and bear away. Secondly, no panic. Things break when you race oceans, it's what happens, the loads and wear on equipment is massive, reducing the opportunity and repairing kit is part of ocean racing. Thirdly, lets sort it. Get the sail down and under control. Then the final part – the work round, use the heavy weight spinnaker sheets until we have repaired the broken sheet. Let's get racing again. Resilience and endurance, part of the Bekezela spirit shining through.
Now, I am going to share a little story with you. Whales, there have been lots of them, including two very close together, which did warrant the comment “Get a room!” (Although in all fairness they probably weren’t expecting us to sail past at that time). On our first encounter, I was asleep in my bunk, during the night, to be woken by #1 stating, “There are 2 whales close to the boat. I mean really close, they are looking at us, you can see their eyes. Are you happy for them to be there?” Not quite sure what would have happened if I had said ‘no.’ Anyway at breakfast change over it transpired, they had been really close. Maisie and Gio were standing at the helm when one breathed out, via their blow hole, soaking the both of them in foul fish smelling water, nice! We haven’t confirmed any types yet, as it's been mainly in the dark, although we are comfortable some are a type of pilot whale.
Today, 25 October, is National Greasy Food Day. After a visit from the Green Monster for many as the front arrived, think we might give that a miss.
Think that's all for now, standing by this channel.
David, Maisie and the Bekezela Crew