Dick Dastardly Takes the Helm
The boat is flying, and our watch has started a new theme on helm handles referring back to the Whacky Races an old cartoon series that only those of a certain age, which is most on this boat, would remember. To be fair, we could only remember a few of the characters initially, but it is funny how your memory can spring back into life when you’ve got bugger all to think about.
We’ve got the code up and in our watch it is becoming very competitive on the helm, but only in certain conditions! There are roars of laughter and squeals from the helm as we take bragging rights on each shift for hitting the top speeds, anything less than 15 knots was now boring. We’re regularly pushing 19 knots, surfing down monster waves, 20 knots, 20.5 knots then 21 knots. It’s mad and great fun as our bow plunged into the next wave, picks up and goes again. The helm is extremely heavy but the fun we’re having makes it all worthwhile, it’s becoming addictive and loads of banter between helms. We’ve agreed that the fastest is to be called Dick Dastardly, we’ve got Penelope Pitstop nailed on and a good idea who the Amp Hill mob are. Andy has now got the fastest speed of 21.8 knots under kite.
I’ve hit another 1st, as we’re under the roaring forties. Another big sailing box ticked, it’s never ending.
Spinnaker vs Crew: Round One
With all the forces on the boat, we’ve started to notice a lot of wear on our spinnaker sheets. A section of sheet which is in contact around the winches has melted, we suspect caused by a riding turn. The lazy sheet (the sheet/rope that’s not under tension) has snagged in the snap shackle, buggered the shackle, which has been an ongoing problem but also damaged the sheet, again!
With the wind increasing and moving into the night, we’ve dropped our code 2 and put up our code 3, a much smaller spinnaker but easier to control at night. We go off watch, just closing my eyes, bang, all hands on deck as LBS straightens up. We’ve lost power, the bloody spinnaker again! Everybody is up, getting dressed. Life jackets on and the tack of the spinnaker is already in the galley, but has stopped! It’s snagged again. The working sheet had snapped, we think from rubbing along the boom, but we now have our code 3 wrapped around the anti-wrap net! Well, that has worked well. The Anti-wrap net is a dummy sail made from webbing that is flown like a normal foresail but will let the wind through to the spinnaker, it’s attached to the Forestay but flown on the high side to prevent the spinnaker from wrapping around the stays, but it obviously hadn’t worked on this occasion.
So gravity will not drop the sail, so it’s down to manpower. Everybody is on the foredeck, trying to rugby tackle the sail and pulling it down. The sail has managed to wrap itself around the inner forestay and the outside of the anti-wrap net, trying to get it under control is a bloody nightmare. We think we’ve got it, and a gust of wind catches the sail, inflating the sail and blowing it back up into the air. It’s a collective effort, both in strength and weight, as we gradually ease it down the inner forestay. It’s getting easier to manage, and we’re learning to take it in small sections, trying not to damage the sail any more than we have to. Eventually, we’ve got it on the foredeck. Not sure how much damage has been caused to our workhorse kite. We drop it through the fore hatch into the sail locker along with gallons of sea water washing over the deck. Down below, we’re pulling the tack and clue of the kite down the inside, we manage all our kites the same way. The Clue to the loo (pulled down the Starboard living quarters where the starboard head/loo is situated) and the Tack to the crack (pulled down the Port living quarters, where Zoe’s bunk is situated and where we fixed a crack in Puerto Sherry) and the Head to the head (pulled into the bow into the sail locker). All below, the hatch is closed and a moment to catch our breath.
The ‘On-Watch’ get the boat moving again, putting up our Yankee 1 and staysail and keeping the boat racing, whilst the ‘Off-Watch’ start checking the sail for damage. All our kites are colour coded the same way. So we follow the white edge from the Head of the sail, back to the Tack, we then follow the blue edge of the kite from the Head down to the Clue and this ensures there are no twists in the sail, before we wool the kite ready for its next launch. Amazingly no obvious damage to the wrapped area, apart from a little bit of fraying. No damage to the rest of the sail and the only damage we find is on the edge of the clue that has ripped some of the edging of when it’s been flogging. We get on wooling the rest of the kite, whilst Petra and Steven get out the sewing machine and get on with repairing the damage, and the rest of us head off to bed. When we get woken for our watch, Joel and myself finish off the wooling and with the help of the two mothers pack the code 3 away ready to fight another day. The Sail Gods are certainly looking after us so far.
Breakages and the Cold Setting In
As we continue charging across the southern Atlantic, we’ve all been astonished by how many seabirds are about. During our 1st leg, hardly any, apart from the odd stray migrating bird that would often hitch a lift. But down here they are everywhere, I’m a bit annoyed I didn’t bring a book about seabirds with me as it would be nice to know what we’ve seen, I mean Oli, said he’d seen a penguin off Brazil! I think that might just be a little far-fetched even for his imagination. But we have seen our 1st Albatross soaring effortlessly around the boat, and we hope we’ll see a few more. We also had a couple of mammals visit us which some of the guys thought were baby Orcas, but I think they were a species of Dolphin, again, we’ll need to look it up when we get to Cape Town.
The boat has done it to us again, we’re sailing so deep that the boom has been eased a fair way during the night and the Yankee sheet has been rubbing/chaffing on the underside of the boom, causing the outside of the rope cover to shear. Bugger! Needs to get sorted ASAP, or we will have to drop our Yankee to change it. We can’t get a rolling hitch to hold on the damaged sheet, so we’ve quickly brought our lazy sheet around the front of the boat and ground it down through a snap shackle with a rolling hitch, released the damaged sheet off the winch and re-run the lazy sheet back through the cars and back onto the working primary winch. Phew, that would have been a real pain, and lucky we spotted the problem early enough. But we need to be vigilant and as we’re getting more experienced, we’re spotting the problems earlier. It’s getting colder now, and the dry suit has been brought out of storage for the first time. It’s a bit of a faff initially, but I’m getting used to it now, it’s just getting the processes right. The theory behind the dry suit is to keep you dry. If you stay dry, you’ll be warmer and so far, even with soaking wet boots, I’ve been warm and whilst some of the crew are taking the piss, I think it’s been a great investment.
The Hardest Miles Yet
We’ve now entered the sprint gate some 30 miles behind GOSH, and we’re expecting much bigger winds to head our way, with possible gusts up to 55 knots! So we’ve dropped our code 2, replacing it with our code 3. We will be a bit slower initially but when the wind hits later tonight, we won’t be wasting time changing sails in the gate and continue a lot deeper into the speed gate with the same sail plan. We’ve decided to go the quickest route through the gates, while it appears GOSH have decided to go the quickest route to Cape Town, which is slightly longer and puts us in a good spot for a faster time. I wonder if they have they got a problem or with a comfortable cushion on the overall scoreboard, they’re concentrating on winning each leg. Only time will tell.
We’ve had to drop our code 3 now as it’s got a bit too windy and with a following sea, it’s been difficult to keep the kite full of wind, collapsing it, having to grind it in, then filling it again, it’s been putting massive stresses on the boat and rigging. It’s had its benefits so time to bring it down and yet again, we’ve struggled to drop it properly. It’s becoming a real pain in the arse, also causing the crew a lot of anxiety. There’s a bit more damage to the clew, so we work through the night, re-wooling it and repairing the clue again before bagging it for use when required.
I’ve not had a good day today, lots of small things that have added up to a really shit day. Mostly based around miscommunication and a lack of understanding of my needs and wants from others, finalising the day with an altercation with one member of the crew, I didn’t sleep well, thinking about my day, how do I redress the balance and get back to my happy self? These things happen in a confined space, and I’m sure I’ll have some more shitty days before my adventure is over. But we’ve talked about these things as a crew, have various reminders around the boat in how to deal with conflict and as prescribed, I’ve decided to address all parties involved individually, in the morning and go from there. Surprisingly, whilst everybody knew I wasn’t my normal self, only one person asked if I was okay! It’s certainly something I need to think about when others are feeling down and making sure I’m there to support them. I gradually got around to all the crew to apologise for being grumpy and explain the reasons. I left the hardest conversation to last with the crew member I had the altercation with. I laid it on the line how they made me feel and the possible consequences of their actions, and I left it there. They apologised and, hopefully, we can move on. It certainly made me feel a whole lot better and started getting on with my day, racing the boat.
With a fresh day, I got on the helm early to help clear my head of all the issues from the previous day. I really enjoy helming it’s something I’m working really hard on to get better at and like most things, the more you do it, the better you get, or that’s the plan. We’re still in the speed gate and race pace is everything. With the wind so strong and just of a beam reach, we’re sailing in white sails. It’s a bit frisky with lots of surfing down the waves with the wind just behind the beam and a rolling sea. Wind speeds are up in the 30s, with gusts up to 50 knots. We’re regularly hitting circa 19 knots. I get a big kick from a large wave, heave down on the helm, turn onto the wave and feel the wind pick up, the bow descending down the wave, close to ploughing under the wave, sea water is washing the decks, the speed is picking up, and I can feel a gust of wind building from behind. The speed starts to climb, water is now spraying over the bow, some 70 feet away and into my face, I’m struggling to see over the bow, but can feel the power through the helm, as the bow starts to lift and plane on the wave. As we accelerate down the wave, we can see the speed rising and by the time we get to the bottom of the wave I’ve broken the LBS speed world record at 26.8 knots, on white sails, absolutely nuts, but it’s why I’m here to experience things like this and funnily enough, the problems I had yesterday started to fade.
The wind is starting to reduce, our code 3 is back on deck, waiting for the right opportunity to hoist it again and our watch heads to bed.
The Final Sprint: Qingdao on the Horizon
We’ve gone and done it again! Woken up at around 4.00 am, all hands-on-deck. The next watch, had partially rigged the code 3, with just the tack and clue connected but the sail bag was left open and yes, you’ve guessed it, the wind caught the top of the sail and dumped it over the side. The boat is put into an emergency crash gybe, to help stop the boat broaching, and the boat is hove to. The sail is submerged in the water and everyone is hanging over the railings pulling the water filled sail back onboard. As only the tack & clue are attached, it makes it a bit easier to get back on deck, but unfortunately Zoe, has hurt her ankle in the initial process. She’s quickly taken down below to her bunk and looked after by our on-board medic, Andy (the vet). Both Andy and Gavin look after her with the help again of the Clipper support team, back in Gosport. There’s not much we can do just yet, being so far from land, so as she is stable, we need to get the boat sailing as quick as we can. Not only have we now lost an hour of sail time at the back end of the sprint, we’ve potentially lost the help of our 1st mate! Obviously, we won’t know how her ankle is until we get into Cape Town, but everybody has their fingers crossed for her. She’s currently in her bunk, being looked after by everyone on board. I really hope she’s going to be okay.
We’re still in stealth mode, but our mistake yesterday could have cost us on the ocean sprint, and will have given GOSH, a bigger lead. We are all a bit deflated with Zoe’s injury, especially as it could have been avoided. We need some good news to get our mojo back as we’ve resigned ourselves to 2nd or possibly 3rd spot. We need to pull our fingers out, put our big boys’ pants on and crack on.
We’ve all livened up a bit and our watch has pulled the Yankee 1 up ready for the other crew in the morning to race change it. The plan is for them to rig our code 1 for us to fly this afternoon. Gavin has decided to go with our code 3 instead, and I wake to the other watch starting the process. After we’ve put up the kite, we’ve had a crew meeting to debrief the last 24 hours. With Zoe’s injury and everybody being tired, it’s very emotional and some of the crew are understandably a little stressed. With a 1st mate down, it’s obvious we can’t go as hard as some of us would like. Once we get the schedule through, we will have a better idea of where we are in the race. If putting the kite in the water has cost us both time and points in the ocean sprint. I feel this is the time for us to work harder, to ensure a 2nd spot and maybe catch GOSH out. This is Ocean racing and bad stuff happens, what’s important for me is how we, the team, can come out of this.
The schedules are out and our position in 2nd hasn’t been compromised that much. But the top 3 are all on different wind angles, so depending on wind shifts in the last few days it could become interesting. Just got to keep our heads down and concentrate on sailing the boat fast and safe for the next couple of days to ensure a podium finish, but more importantly get Zoe to safety. We’re all exhausted, but up for the challenge. Phil, the skipper of Qingdao, has gone into stealth mode, and he’s gone a lot lower than us! What’s he up to? We’ve still not put up our kite as the sea state and wind is so variable, and we could end up wrapping it. So we will wait to see where Qingdao pops up tomorrow before we need to start worrying about them. GOSH are out of site, so unless something dramatic happens to them, they should romp home. We’ve also got the info that we finished in 2nd spot to GOSH on the sprint by less than an hour, so the kite cock up has cost us 1st spot on the sprint, handed GOSH a substantial lead in the race and more importantly has hurt our 1st mate.
Back on watch chasing the wind. It is constantly changing and sailing on a wind angle trying to keep our speed up. It’s exhausting at night, especially with a confused sea. A confused sea is when there is no real consistency in the wave formation, which has surprised me down here. I can only assume it’s the ocean currents that are causing the sea state. We have all the crew sitting on the low side to try and help keep the main sail filled. Another jibe and looks like we’ll get our code 1 up for the final run into Cape Town.
The Code 1 is up, without a hitch, phew! The schedules are out, with GOSH some 68 nautical miles in front, so we’ve eaten into their lead and Qingdao have popped up approx 36 nautical miles behind us, but the wind has dropped again so it will be a nervous evening for us. We’re hopefully moving into our last night and having our last Sunday Sundown for this race and this leg. We’ve just jibed to cover Qingdao eating into our lead from them but ensuring we have the same wind. Letting Phil get closer to us, does make me slightly concerned, as we will need to jibe again!
Back on watch and flat calm, in fact, the current has pushed us backwards! Where is Qingdao? Not good for the stress levels, looking over your shoulder all the time. We’ve made a bit of headway but stopped again. “Roaring 40’s” not so sure!
The gap between ourselves and Qingdao is closing as the wind is filling from the west. We’ve been struggling to make any headway for over 24 hours, and our arrival time gets later and later. Very frustrating.
Well! The wind had picked up at long last, but it’s brought Qingdao onto our stern about 1/2 a mile away. We’ve just jibed in front of them, which took a tad longer than we hoped, when the tack line had wrapped around the bow sprit and then trapped the lazy sheet. Bloody spinnakers on a big boat like this are a liability. Gavin and Phil have had a few friendly pleasantries over the VHF radio, wouldn’t be polite to furnish all the details, “what’s said on tour stays on tour” but he did disclose that they blew the spinnaker halyard pulley on top of the mast and dropped it in the water, which probably explains why they are still behind us. It’s now a straight race to the finish line and with the stronger wind, we seem to be faster. The next few watches, especially at night, will be paramount to where we finish this race.
The wind is still up around 15 knots, and we’ve pulled away from Qingdao by a mile, and up to 3.9 miles in 4 hours. We’ve got this if we’re consistent and measured, and of course, we don’t break anything. 97 miles to the finish. Two more watches should do it.
Back on watch, and we can still see Qingdao, who have closed the gap slightly. We go forward to set up for a potential kite drop and start to move the Yankee, which is tied down on the starboard side, to the port side. It’s time to be on deck for a watch with my Crocs. Moving the Yankee 1 takes a massive effort as we’ve got to pull the sail in between the outer and inner forestays. The Yankee 1 is a big, heavy and stiff sail and takes a lot longer than anticipated. I’m sitting on the sail looking aft, instructing my crew mates after what seems like an hour, it’s been successfully moved. I get up and move my tethers about to move back down the foredeck. As I look back, I can see the silhouette of Table Top Mountain. What an amazing sight, and one not many have seen from this far south. As we get closer, the sun pops up from the east and, sharpens the outline. We keep looking over our shoulder at Qingdao, still not much change. Gavin is now up on deck and has asked for the wind seeker to be brought up on deck. We’ve not used the wind seeker in anger yet. It’s flown in the same way as a spinnaker but used closer to the wind.
As we drop in behind Table Top Mountain, the sail collapses as the wind drops and as we slow down to a snail’s pace and Qingdao closes the gap. It’s going to be a nervous last few miles.
LBS is dead in the water with only a few miles to go. A sitting duck with Qingdao closing in. We’ve gybed, walking the boom across and trying to walk the kite around. There is no real wind, but during the process we wrap the spinnaker around the forestry. We’ve decided to drop the kite immediately and launch our wind seeker. No real panic from the crew, but we’re certainly nervous as Qingdao sail closer. We manage to pull the kite down without incident and chuck it straight down the sail locker hatch, wright the wind seeker and get it up in the air as the Clipper Race Control rib arrives to catch the action. We catch a bit of a breeze and LBS picks up speed as Qingdao drops into the wind hole and stops.
Across the Line at Last
We edge closer and closer to the finish line as dolphins start popping out of the water, and it’s all over. We’ve secured 2nd spot. Big cheers ring out from the LBS crew. Now time to get our sails down, our battle flags and banners up and get in to get Zoe off.
We get ready to go in but have just enough time to give 3 cheers to Qingdao as they cross the line, and we head into our pontoon in the V&A Waterfront.
What a welcome we receive. African dancers strutting their stuff to a strong drumbeat is just the start of things to come. We tie our lines and the most important person on the boat, Zoe, is brought up on deck and whisked off to hospital, to a round of applause and cheers from the crew and supporters. I just hope she’s going to be okay.
The speeches are made, the introductions done, and the champagne handed over. I didn’t get a drop in Punta, but this time I got drenched. Then the beers and a chance to reflect on leg 2 and race 3. For a few of the crew, it’s their 1st and only leg and race. It’s their 1st achievement and so extremely special to them. For me, it’s another step in the journey to circumnavigate, 2nd spot makes it the more sweet. Time for a bit of R&R and boat repair.
With all the excitement, we never really completed the who’s who of the Whacky Races! I’ll leave that for another Blog.