Coughing and Crash‑Landing Albatrosses
As I start my 13th week onboard CV25/LBS, the weather has most continued to be relatively kind. The boat is starting to dry out which is making living conditions a bit better and my clothes are not getting wet with the condensation and moisture levels on board. However, the dampness has brought on a dry cough, which I have now been reliably informed by Gavin is what he calls “boat cough”. Most of the crew have been suffering with it, some more than others, but it is really irritating, and I’ve had it for nearly 10 days now. I suppose we’re living in a human petri dish and in this environment, bugs have a bloody field day
We are continuing our race across the Southern Ocean at pace and still holding onto 2nd position, although there’s not a lot of room for mistakes. We will shortly be entering the speed gate, GOSH have just entered, so we will be watching.
We’re still seeing lots of sea birds and today I found out why. All of our biodegradable food waste is disposed of over the side and they’re on it in seconds, so obviously worth the effort for a few birds to follow us for a free meal three times a day. We got hit by an albatross on the bow today, a very weird thing to happen. The Albatross was a bit stunned but flew off down our starboard side of the boat a little confused. I think I discovered why it happened. We’ve had a couple of young albatrosses hanging around the boat for a few days and they come a lot closer to the boat than all the other birds. One of them came really close to the bow this morning and the main sail took its wind, the albatross stalled, couldn’t understand why and crash landed into the sea a bit bemused. This time it didn’t hit us and flew off a bit unsure of what had just happened, but it was funny to witness and we all know now that an albatross does land on the water.
Wild Seas, Tough Calls, Fast Miles
We’ve now started our sprint and with the wind quickly building it’s going to be an interesting night. Our watch picks up the mantel and it’s full on, rotating on the helm every 30 minutes. We have the Yankee 2 up, the staysail is on the deck and 1 reef in the main. We are flying, hitting over 20 knots off the waves with 13 to 16 knots on the flat with the decks awash with sea water. Waves are breaking all around us and throwing the boat around. Gavin has asked me if we need a reef and I declined, “we can handle this!” An hour later, the boat gets picked up and thrown 90 degrees off a wave, nearly broaching (I think we did crash gybe, but I managed to recover). Gavin has rightly ordered another reef to be put in the main. Maybe we should have done it earlier, it was light and the wind was manageable, but that’s why Gavin’s the skipper. We’re now executing the reef in the dark in 30 knots of wind. I’m on the deck with Leo, trying to pull the main down to reef two. I’m being thrown around like a rag doll and Leo can’t get the handy billy (basically a block and tackle) onto the reef tack. The wind is trying to fill the main sail and pulls the main back up the mast. I’m now lying on the deck pulling as hard as I can on the down hall and thinking I can’t hold onto this for much longer. My hands are numb with the cold and the power from the wind pulling on the main sail, when Maisie arrives to the rescue and adds another pair of hands and Leo manages to attach the handy Billy onto the reef tack. The tack is made, the reef is completed and it calms down. It took a while but eventually all done. A very good watch, putting a lot of miles on the clock but time for our watch to have a kip. Let’s keep the pace up. Down below in my bunk, you can feel the boat juddering and I hear the water washing over the deck. We’re still shifting, so ear plugs in and we’ll be back on deck in three hours.
A new day and good news. We’ve been travelling faster than everybody in the fleet by over 1 knot which is a bit special and a reward for all the hard work last night. We had another tough stint from 02.00 to 06.00, pulled in a gybe to miss the worst of a lull in the wind and we’ve shook out reef 2 from last night. Sea state is a bit confused, so making it a bit difficult to hold course. The next race schedule should be interesting. We’ve finished the speed gate and have a suspicion that we have smashed GOSH’s time, but we won’t know until the last boat has finished, which will probably be in 4 to 5 days as Warrant are long way back.
This race is in its final stages, we’re pushing hard and made some gains on GOSH and pulled away from Punta. Still a long way to go by my next watch 18.00, we should be under 1,000 miles to the finish and a cold beer. Still under 40 degrees latitude but the sun is shining and the crew upbeat after a good speed gate. The wind has dropped slightly, but more importantly, the sea state has flattened and with a less aggressive course, it’s been a great day’s sailing. We’ve taken the better weather to repair our Yankee 2 which has had a bit of a battering over the last 4 races. Led by Petra and assisted by Tony Gill (Gilly), the sail is pulled up on deck from the sail locker, reversed so the head and hanks face the stern. It is then pulled back to the cockpit, where we have un-flaked it and set about repairing the new damage from the last few days and also replacing some of the early repairs as they ‘re looking a bit rough and tired. We had a number of damaged & worn hanks, we’ve only got 5 replacements left, so we need to tread carefully. As it transpired, with a bit of Irish engineering and persuasion, (a big hammer), I only had to replace one hank, and repaired the rest, but we will need to keep an eye as they are all getting worn. Both Petra and Gilly did a cracking job, staying on after their watch to complete the repairs before going to bed. Another glorious day on the helm, good winds and flattish seas made for some great sailing. We also had a comedy gold moment. Maisie, our new 1st mate and great fun, made us all a hot drink and joined us on deck and showed me a blister she’d gained from the coffee cup she was drinking from. After looking at the state of my hands, I burst out laughing and shared the conversation with the rest of the watch, fits of laughter and suggestions of amputation, call for the vet, etc., etc., etc. and everyone had a good laugh including Maisie.
Helming on the high seas
We’re into our evening watch and the wind has picked up, but the sea state is still moderate, great down wind sailing with white sails. We are expecting a softening of the wind later and with GOSH appearing to be in lighter winds, we need to helm straight and fast. I’m enjoying my helming so much so, I keep going on a double shift, we’re flying again, probably a bit too much main as the boat is not really balanced. We’re expecting the wind to ease later, so will just need to muscle through the weather helm. We’re getting long surfing of up to 16 knots, hitting over 20 knots on regular occasions. For the 1st time I’ve decided to helm on the low side to see if I can get a better feel for the boat and it appears to be working, I’ve got a better view of the water on the low side, it just washes the deck and my feet more often. The stance is similar, but I find out the hard way, the stance is not as strong. I’ve picked up a gust on top of a large wave, as we head down the wave and pick up speed to around 21 knots, a 2nd big wave hits us from the side and the rudder lurches to the port. I wasn’t ready or balanced and I nearly get thrown out of the helm, but more importantly I lose my grip on the helm and the boat spins up into the wind. I’ve managed to just grab it back and quickly try and get control, the boat then spins down to windward and with a few expletives, I’ve just managed to stop a broach. Phew, that was close, but as I’ve found so far these boats are built to take it. Big Tony, David, Leo and I are all at the back of the boat taking our half hour slots and the banter is great. Before watch change over, Dom, our resident professor from the other watch, told Petra to go down below and took over her last half hour of watch as a gesture of thank-you, for Petra spending extra time on deck repairing the sails. More signs of a great crew. The Schedule is in and we’ve taken another 6 miles out of GOSH’s lead, but it’s not nearly enough if we’re going to catch them.
Another good watch, lots of banter as the team has really bonded well. We got to see the Australian “Borealis”. I didn’t know it existed! I was on the helm, so it was behind me and luckily, we have some photo evidence to prove it. The wind has dropped as expected and with the sea state also flattening, we’ve put up the Code 1. But we’ve found more damage to the Yankee 1 with holes caused by the hanks rubbing on the sails when they flog. It’s a problem across the fleet. I’ve been talking about the Hank issues we’ve been having since we where off the coast of Brazil and now, eventually, solutions are being sought. We need to do something as the sails will not last the duration of the race.
It’s been a long watch and glad to be off to bed. I hear we’ve got pancakes for breakfast to look forward too.
The rumours were correct, the pancakes were great and we’re now up on deck to see the damaged Yankee has been dragged back for Petra and Gilly to repair, leaving 4 on deck to drive the boat. Big Tony’s not feeling well so it’s down to David and I to helm the boat. Not too much pressure on white sails, but when you’re flying a kite, it adds a bit of spice and pressure. You don’t want to be on the helm if the kite gets wrapped, not a badge of honour you want to have on your resume. So, it’s an hour on and an hour off and it’s been a long watch, so 3 hours each on the helm. We also ran out of gas, so bottles have had to be transferred from starboard gas locker to port gas looker. Easy to do alongside a pontoon, but not so in the Southern Ocean. That’s our last bottle of gas. We carry 4 so we’ll need to use a little less in the longer legs. We’ve also had a problem with our wind instruments, suddenly stops updating, the wrong readings or the readings stick, which makes it really difficult to helm. David and I watched a large black gull try to land on the top of the mast a few days ago and wonder if that’s damaged it. No doubt when we get into Fremantle, we’ll discover the cause and be able to fix or replace it. We’ve also noticed, that as we’ve risen above 40 degrees latitude, the number of sea birds has significantly dropped, or maybe they just don’t like our food. Still not that much in the world of whale watching, fleeting glances, was it or wasn’t it a whale? “Did anybody else see that?” And we see distant blow holes.
The wind has dropped off again and looking to fill in from our stern. The fleet will start to compress and we can’t really do much more. It could be Punta Del Este all over again.
Last Mother Watch Before the Final Sprint
My last mother duty, with Anna, and last mother duty for this race. It’s been good fun keeping the troops fed, getting to know Anna and the crew appear to be enjoying what we’ve been putting up for them. Food is a real moral booster for the crew. If they eat well they work well and the boat is happier for it. However, it’s also important that the galley and its contents are kept clean and I’ve had to wash a number of pots that had not been cleaned properly! “That will do” attitude is not part of the LBS culture and everybody needs to complete their duties to the highest standards. It’s been mentioned, well, I had a bit of a rant, and hopefully that nips it in the bud. As mother I’ve not been on deck at all today, but I can see the sun is out. The wind has strengthened a bit but we had to gybe last night as the wind had backed and Punta has made some gains on us as a result. We believe we have the better wind angle for Fremantle. GOSH have gone into stealth mode to keep us all guessing over the next 24 hours. But it’s all very close at the end of 4,500 NM miles, in fact astonishing that there is so little between the top three boats.
The 1st Christmas decoration is up! A blow-up Santa, who has a remarkable likeness to one of my fellow Northern Ireland crew mates, has appeared in the galley. Time seems to stand still whilst you’re on a boat. Being cutoff from media sources, sports results, even the daily news, makes you forget that life is cracking on at pace back home. Things are happening out there and you’re not part of it. Christmas decorations drive that home with a bit of a punch. I’m sure more decorations will appear as the festive season roles in and I’ll just have to get used to it and find my own coping mechanism’s.
Saturday and less than 450 NM miles to go. GOSH has come out of stealth and we’ve closed in on them to 50 miles! They can see we’re faster than them with better wind, we’ve left that message, then gone into stealth ourselves, just to play with their minds. Punta has closed in on us, but we’ve held them to 50 miles. We’ve travelled nearly 4,500 NM miles and the top three boats are now within 100 miles of each other. It’s nuts. The wind has shifted and during the night whilst I was snoring my head off, we’ve dropped our code 1, raised our Yankee 1, wooled the kite and put it away for the next flight. I didn’t hear a bloody thing. Ear plugs are definitely one of the best investments I’ve made! So, we’re now making good speed under white sails.
It’s great to be back on deck after Mother watch. The sun is out, sails are filled and we’ve just been visited by a pod of 20 or so dolphins. They’ve been playing around our bow, jumping and flipping over. The main pod has moved away with a few juveniles hanging about, but eventually they’ve all headed off.
Up again for our 10pm watch. Good news is that we’ve secured 1ST spot in the ocean sprint, by some distance. Bad news. Punta have followed GOSH and gone lower, we assume, with their spinnaker and taken another chunk out of us and down to 45 miles. We’ve now got our code 1 up, but do we cover them off and drop down low, or do we remain high and hope the wind stays true? It’s a crucial call with pros & cons for either. If the wind stays with us, then it’s a no brainer, but I have a feeling there could be another twist.
Haribo Smuggling and a Podium Finish
Its the last full day with the news that GOSH and Punta have headed south of us. We’ve gained on GOSH and Punta has gained on us. The code 1 kite is up and flying well but not much wind about, so approx 80 miles between 1st and 3rd. Bloody incredible, with a grandstand finish on the cards.
On a secondary note, just to make sure we’re on track, Gavin and Maisie are trying out their sextants. Andy’s trying to figure out how they work, but he’s still looking through the wrong end. The conclusion is that we are approximately in the right place and that Gavin’s kit is better than Maisie’s kit.
I’ve been up on deck getting ready for border control, shaving my head to the bemusement of the crew. I mean, how weird is it for an old bugger dressed only in a pair of shorts and a lifejacket with a bucket of hot water, shaving foam on his head and a razor in his hand. You won’t get better on Netflix. On a more serious note, according to Australian customs, we are carrying half a ton of contraband. The restriction list takes a week to read. Lucy, bless her, has been cleansing our provisions, including flour, honey all meat products and even gummy bears! Seemingly, the gelatine is not allowed and all the secret stashes of Haribo are turning up to be either eaten or binned! The crew has agreed to take one for the team and stuff our faces with as much Haribo as one can stomach, so much so, I think we’ll all have to be treated for type 2 diabetes by the time we arrive. Other food stuffs we need to off-load and this is not the full list – All peanuts, all rice, South African Billtong, pepperoni, salami, hot dogs, fruit, all our tins of South African corned beef, all spices (Lucy is not happy), opened tea bags (Andy’s not happy) and vegetables (not all crew members have agreed to eat the vegetables). In fact, this may be the 1st leg in Clipper history where the crew arrive heavier than they left and I don’t want to see another fizzy cola or gummy bears for at least a year.
Up early in anticipation for our Last Sunday sundown of the race and an update of where we are in the race! No real change, so we just need to sail hard and make no mistakes along the way.
75 miles to go and we’ve been catching GOSH all day, bit by bit, but not quickly enough. Whilst we’ve got closer to GOSH, we’ve also pulled away from Punta, the wind is due to back and strengthen and we’ve made the call to drop our code 1 and raise our Yankee 1 and finish the race on white sails. There is no point in risking our position as we haven’t got enough water to catch GOSH, unless they make a mistake and we’re still fast enough to be able to take advantage of any mistakes they make.
On the home straight. It’s early in the morning and we can make out land ahead, with various navigation lights in the distance, but it’s still dark. Every port we go to is unfamiliar and so extra care is required to ensure we’re following the correct course and both understand and recognise the various navigation lights blinking in the distance. The majority of navigation lights have an individual flashing sequence to help sailors recognise each light. To add a bit of tension, we also need to be a certain distance off the shoreline, otherwise we’ll get a time penalty, so tensions are running high. We’ve rounded Rotness Island into a strong head wind, time to remind ourselves how to tack. It’s been a while! All the crew are on deck so a bit crowded, and for some, this will be the last time on LBS. So, I go up on the foredeck with David to set trim and stay out of the way. As suspected by Gavin, we’ve got too much sail up, so we drop our Yankee 1 and pull up our Yankee 2. Nothing like a headsail change early in the morning, coming into the finish line. A bit of extra graft for us all but gets the blood flowing and everybody is now fully awake for our arrival into Fremantle. As the sun rises, Anna, who hasn’t helmed that much on this race, takes LBS and herself home to Australia. She’s Australian and a local girl from Perth and a really nice ending to her journey to bring LBS over the finish line. We dodge around a few anchored ships in the bay before spotting the Clipper rib, a sure sign we’re heading in the right direction and a few other boats have come out to greet us.
With a big cheer from the crew, we cross the finish line in a very strong 2nd spot, another 9 points in the bag and another ocean completed. Big hugs and handshakes all round as the Clipper rib circles the boat for some photo opportunities. Then it’s back to the routine of dropping the sails and putting up our sponsors banners and flags. We’re getting fairly efficient at it now. Once completed and with the Sun shinning brightly, we head into Fremantle marina. My 1st time in Australia and leg 3 completed. Time for some beer (after we clear customs) and some R&R