Well something really rather cruel has happened to our yacht. Yesterday while leaving La Rochelle we made a silly mistake. We passed the wrong side of a mark of the course (a buoy) and did not realise this error until we had sailed some 15 miles west. Rather than be disqualified (the penalty for missing a mark) we had to return to the buoy and pass the correct side of it.
Imagine the scene as this news was revealed to the on watch. Only hours into the final leg, powering west, the thrill of the chase to Portsmouth and the finish in our imaginations. We had to turn away from our competitors, hoist a kite, and sail backwards, until eventually they disappeared over the horizon. The disappointment was intense, there were tears for some, and many felt their dreams slipping away too.
By the time we had rounded the mark and returned to our original position we were 30 miles behind the leaders. I can only imagine the atmosphere onboard the boats in 3rd and 4th overall position - Spirit of Sark and Barclays Adventurer and indeed BG SPIRIT in 1st they just won't be able to believe it.
As for us we are racing to catch up. This team has been tested in so many ways in the latter stages of this race. I wrote once in the Atlantic 'tread softly for you tread on my dreams' but yacht racing cares nothing for this. It truly can be a bloody business. The mark of a person, or a team, is how they react in the bad times not the triumphs. Each person onboard carries around a sort of leaden feeling of slight sadness somewhere in their stomachs, but we are determined not to be defeated by this, not to let this one silly mistake define our campaign.
There are light winds until Portsmouth and even some calms. There may be the opportunity that the fleet ahead will park up and we will catch them. Such things have occurred before during the race and may occur during this leg. There is nothing we can do but hope for this and race the boat as hard as we can in anticipation.
The team has been fantastic; people have put aside their disappointment and seek to support each other. Before all this took place we had a team-build on a beach in La Rochelle. One of our leg objectives was to analyse our motives and mindset during each hour on watch. Were we in the right mindset to bring about a positive result, were we 'in the moment' focused on the task at hand? We take the business of mental preparation seriously on BP Explorer. Well it was never more needed than now. Everybody is digging deep to be the best they can be. To be the kind of people that family, friends and supporters will feel proud of. People that can overcome setback and be resolute, acting with determination and integrity.
Showing posts with label David Melville. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Melville. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Thursday, June 30, 2005
46' 52N 26' 52W
Tactically we have become one of the southerly boats - not what we planned. Tuesday night in varied conditions we all slid north, but most of the boats did some more spectacular sliding than us! There is 48 hours of strong downwind sailing and it remains to be seen which boat gets the better wind/sea combination. For the time being all seems well.
We are rolling along downwind with the No1 yankee poled out and full main. The wind is almost dead astern and every hour sees around 11miles knocked of the total distance to La Rochelle - easy miles.
This point of sail is a pleasure for a skipper, because its lowrisk and relatively high reward in terms of distance sailed. The poled out no1 means you roll a bit, but it is what is known as 'bullet proof'' i.e. you can have quite high deviations from the helmsman but not break anything. The onlydisadvantage is that the rolls dip the boom into the water. When this occurs it is forced upwards and this creates a lot of strain on the rig. Two people have to sit in the snake pit area holding onto ropes and release them each time the boom takes a hit. This is easy stuff though. The net result is that I am relaxed, so are the crew. Our only fear is that some 'uber crew' are able to fly the kite in conditions that we are not and are powering away from us.
All this is a far cry from the conditions this afternoon when we dropped the kite (flanker). The trouble with downwind sailing in 30kts of breeze is thatit is very fast - right up until the point when you loose control of theboat and either break one of the crew or the spinnaker. As the boat edges up to the outside of the 'control envelope' there is a lot of nervy conversation between helm, skipper and trimmer.
''Are you in control or is the boat in control of you?'' is the question I ask the helms. Often toward the end I will either be on the helm or standing by the helmsman's side as we surf and plough down the back of waves at speeds of up to 19kts. The crew will have been looking at the numbers as well as I have, and they know by the feel of the boat that it's all starting to get edgy. They will be anxious to get the kite down too - they just don't want to break it - no way do we want to have to hand stitch a spinnaker together at this stage of the game. Plus pulling down a flanker in a heavily rolling boat is frightening. Last leg a crewman on Team Stelmar was injured when he became entangled in a rope. We have had crew dragged towards the rail, only coming up short by their safety harnesses.
This afternoon was no exception, the wind rose and with it the seas and in the end we got caught by two big swells that pushed the boat into two massive rolls. Holger, the helm at the time, kept his nerve and held the boat on course and the rest of us shouted and cursed and hauled the flanker down out of the sky and into the cockpit. Once we had poled out the no1 it was all smiles again, the relief causes a nice positive feeling to flood around the boat.
''We did it - the flanker lives!'' The kettle goes on, the helms relax and we look forward to some easy miles.
Sitting on the back of the boat some time later I stared at the wake boiling and churning astern, as if released from some unseen lock gate. Many images of the trip passed through my mind and the noise of the rushing water smoothed away some creases. The volume made conversation difficult - it sounded to me as if an infinite number of crisp autumn leaves had left their branches in unison and were passing through a forest in a sustained russssshhhhh.
We are rolling along downwind with the No1 yankee poled out and full main. The wind is almost dead astern and every hour sees around 11miles knocked of the total distance to La Rochelle - easy miles.
This point of sail is a pleasure for a skipper, because its lowrisk and relatively high reward in terms of distance sailed. The poled out no1 means you roll a bit, but it is what is known as 'bullet proof'' i.e. you can have quite high deviations from the helmsman but not break anything. The onlydisadvantage is that the rolls dip the boom into the water. When this occurs it is forced upwards and this creates a lot of strain on the rig. Two people have to sit in the snake pit area holding onto ropes and release them each time the boom takes a hit. This is easy stuff though. The net result is that I am relaxed, so are the crew. Our only fear is that some 'uber crew' are able to fly the kite in conditions that we are not and are powering away from us.
All this is a far cry from the conditions this afternoon when we dropped the kite (flanker). The trouble with downwind sailing in 30kts of breeze is thatit is very fast - right up until the point when you loose control of theboat and either break one of the crew or the spinnaker. As the boat edges up to the outside of the 'control envelope' there is a lot of nervy conversation between helm, skipper and trimmer.
''Are you in control or is the boat in control of you?'' is the question I ask the helms. Often toward the end I will either be on the helm or standing by the helmsman's side as we surf and plough down the back of waves at speeds of up to 19kts. The crew will have been looking at the numbers as well as I have, and they know by the feel of the boat that it's all starting to get edgy. They will be anxious to get the kite down too - they just don't want to break it - no way do we want to have to hand stitch a spinnaker together at this stage of the game. Plus pulling down a flanker in a heavily rolling boat is frightening. Last leg a crewman on Team Stelmar was injured when he became entangled in a rope. We have had crew dragged towards the rail, only coming up short by their safety harnesses.
This afternoon was no exception, the wind rose and with it the seas and in the end we got caught by two big swells that pushed the boat into two massive rolls. Holger, the helm at the time, kept his nerve and held the boat on course and the rest of us shouted and cursed and hauled the flanker down out of the sky and into the cockpit. Once we had poled out the no1 it was all smiles again, the relief causes a nice positive feeling to flood around the boat.
''We did it - the flanker lives!'' The kettle goes on, the helms relax and we look forward to some easy miles.
Sitting on the back of the boat some time later I stared at the wake boiling and churning astern, as if released from some unseen lock gate. Many images of the trip passed through my mind and the noise of the rushing water smoothed away some creases. The volume made conversation difficult - it sounded to me as if an infinite number of crisp autumn leaves had left their branches in unison and were passing through a forest in a sustained russssshhhhh.
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Approaching Waypoint Charlie
Well we are not exactly where we want to be, but it's close. Side by side with Spirit of Sark for much of the night we can see the lead boats 3 to 4 miles ahead.
Spirit of Sark and BP Explorer - sometimes it feels like we would be better off welding the boats together and making a catamaran. Both crews would get more sleep and the finishes tend to be that close anyway.
The potential fly in the ointment is SAIC La Jolla, they have taken a jump forward by sailing the southern line of the course. When they went south the wind looked to be best in the north and I thought - good luck to them. A low was set to pass over Nova Scotia and it did not look like the winds would reach as far south as SAIC La Jolla. But the low passed further south than predicted and the dead winds in the middle sat over the fleet for over 24 hours. We all went nowhere while 80m to the south SAIC La Jolla powered away and for now we follow their progress with interest. They are a few points behind us and are dangerous in that they could knock us out of the podium three.
As I send this log off, there is bright morning sunshine on deck and a cold wind blowing from the west. We can count eight yachts on the horizon, all with spinnakers up, all making for Waypoint Charlie at the tip of the Grand Banks - the racing is close, close, close. Onboard the atmosphere is different on this leg, we have all travelled so far and seen so much at sea. All of the manoeuvres on deck are routine and we have to be on guard for complacency - we don't want any injuries and we don't want to break anything. We know each other very well and know how to live without conflict.
Nobody has even come close to getting off for interpersonal reasons and that is a very positive statement about the crew. We always discuss with interest things like the sudden departure of Spirit of Sark's navigator in Boston and speculate about what that might mean for crew dynamics.
After a slow start the weather is shaping up and we look like we will have some good daily runs for the next week as we enter the main body of the Atlantic. Onboard BP Explorer all is well. The main difference this trip is that the calorie count is much lower. We were not allowed to import any foodstuffs into the USA (so much for free trade) and so our daily freeze dried packs that have been shipped out to all the other ports were not an option.
The food team were sent out to the local supermarkets with the remit of keeping the boat light. This they have, there is enough food but no more. For those that put on a few pounds on our leg up the Atlantic this is a last minute chance to get fighting fit for those pictures on arrival in Portsmouth
Spirit of Sark and BP Explorer - sometimes it feels like we would be better off welding the boats together and making a catamaran. Both crews would get more sleep and the finishes tend to be that close anyway.
The potential fly in the ointment is SAIC La Jolla, they have taken a jump forward by sailing the southern line of the course. When they went south the wind looked to be best in the north and I thought - good luck to them. A low was set to pass over Nova Scotia and it did not look like the winds would reach as far south as SAIC La Jolla. But the low passed further south than predicted and the dead winds in the middle sat over the fleet for over 24 hours. We all went nowhere while 80m to the south SAIC La Jolla powered away and for now we follow their progress with interest. They are a few points behind us and are dangerous in that they could knock us out of the podium three.
As I send this log off, there is bright morning sunshine on deck and a cold wind blowing from the west. We can count eight yachts on the horizon, all with spinnakers up, all making for Waypoint Charlie at the tip of the Grand Banks - the racing is close, close, close. Onboard the atmosphere is different on this leg, we have all travelled so far and seen so much at sea. All of the manoeuvres on deck are routine and we have to be on guard for complacency - we don't want any injuries and we don't want to break anything. We know each other very well and know how to live without conflict.
Nobody has even come close to getting off for interpersonal reasons and that is a very positive statement about the crew. We always discuss with interest things like the sudden departure of Spirit of Sark's navigator in Boston and speculate about what that might mean for crew dynamics.
After a slow start the weather is shaping up and we look like we will have some good daily runs for the next week as we enter the main body of the Atlantic. Onboard BP Explorer all is well. The main difference this trip is that the calorie count is much lower. We were not allowed to import any foodstuffs into the USA (so much for free trade) and so our daily freeze dried packs that have been shipped out to all the other ports were not an option.
The food team were sent out to the local supermarkets with the remit of keeping the boat light. This they have, there is enough food but no more. For those that put on a few pounds on our leg up the Atlantic this is a last minute chance to get fighting fit for those pictures on arrival in Portsmouth
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
42 58n 61 00w
It has been a gentle start to leg 6 and at present we are reaching with the spinnaker up making around 10kts straight for the waypoint. We are just on the edge of the Grand Banks continental shelf and keep encountering little pockets of current - sometimes 0.5kt with us and annoyingly for a while Tuesday afternoon, over 1kt against us. The fleet is spread out north to south with just a few miles separating first and tenth. This will be another very tight leg with minutes between the yachts at the finish.
We have maps of the Gulf Stream which lies to the south and the warm water eddies which spin off it. Then there is the cold water Labrador current that lies to the north and opposes us. There are a number of good websites which detail all of this, and maps downloaded before we left are spread all over the chart table. (try putting in rads/tudelft in google) Its even possible to buy up to £1,000 worth of Gulf Stream information from experts in the field (we have not). Needless to say that while we encountered 1 kt of current against us, the maps clearly showed that we should be enjoying half a knot from astern - doh! I guess nobody told the Gulf Stream.
We are all glad to be on our way back across the Atlantic and me in particular. I had a lousy time in Boston. I spent the first week worrying about the protest and the second week dealing with the fallout. I very much hope that the results of the competition are not decided by the few points that we were deducted. What was good was seeing my son Jasper do his 'Frankenstein walk' as he mastered the art of life on two feet.
Laura said to me that ''when we leave Boston you will be able to hear the wheels skidding on the gravel as we pull out of the car park'' I knew exactly what she meant. We went out to the start meaning business. While others took a more relaxed approach we put the sails up early and with the Boston skyline behind us, timed a number runs to the start. Normally I take a modest approach to leg starts, but this time I felt it would be nice to show the fleet that our heads were up and we were back in business. We hit the line with seconds to spare and lead the fleet out of Boston. It was a great lift for us all, meaningless in the long run, but still a magic little moment.
Tactically it is slow stuff at the moment. We are reaching along in relatively constant winds and there may be a slight advantage for the boats to the north. We hope to get little lifts from the current being slightly south. If it would only co-operate. A lot of the small changes that you see may well be due to boats running into little eddies. What we like on this boat is change. Putting sails up and down and reacting to changing circumstances is like going through the gears of a car. Both watches are fast and proficient now and we look forward to the weather livening up a bit.
We have maps of the Gulf Stream which lies to the south and the warm water eddies which spin off it. Then there is the cold water Labrador current that lies to the north and opposes us. There are a number of good websites which detail all of this, and maps downloaded before we left are spread all over the chart table. (try putting in rads/tudelft in google) Its even possible to buy up to £1,000 worth of Gulf Stream information from experts in the field (we have not). Needless to say that while we encountered 1 kt of current against us, the maps clearly showed that we should be enjoying half a knot from astern - doh! I guess nobody told the Gulf Stream.
We are all glad to be on our way back across the Atlantic and me in particular. I had a lousy time in Boston. I spent the first week worrying about the protest and the second week dealing with the fallout. I very much hope that the results of the competition are not decided by the few points that we were deducted. What was good was seeing my son Jasper do his 'Frankenstein walk' as he mastered the art of life on two feet.
Laura said to me that ''when we leave Boston you will be able to hear the wheels skidding on the gravel as we pull out of the car park'' I knew exactly what she meant. We went out to the start meaning business. While others took a more relaxed approach we put the sails up early and with the Boston skyline behind us, timed a number runs to the start. Normally I take a modest approach to leg starts, but this time I felt it would be nice to show the fleet that our heads were up and we were back in business. We hit the line with seconds to spare and lead the fleet out of Boston. It was a great lift for us all, meaningless in the long run, but still a magic little moment.
Tactically it is slow stuff at the moment. We are reaching along in relatively constant winds and there may be a slight advantage for the boats to the north. We hope to get little lifts from the current being slightly south. If it would only co-operate. A lot of the small changes that you see may well be due to boats running into little eddies. What we like on this boat is change. Putting sails up and down and reacting to changing circumstances is like going through the gears of a car. Both watches are fast and proficient now and we look forward to the weather livening up a bit.
Sunday, June 5, 2005
40' 0N 68' 01W
BP Explorer is 87 miles south east of Cape Cod, sailing slowly in a light north westerly breeze (yes a headwind..) The air is cold and damp with fog covering the first 10m of the sea. We can see the sky above, but cannot see more than 100m in front. Its very cold and the crew are raiding their curver boxes for extra t-shirts and socks.
If we cross our fingers and view the winds optimistically, we shall get in end of Monday. Finishing this race reminds me of the frog hopping across a table, the first time he jumps he gets half way across the table, the second jump takes him half the remaining distance..and so on forever.
While the distance to the finish seems to shrink but never reaches an end the same cannot be said for our competitors Imagine It. Done and Spirit of Sark - who are 2 and 6 miles behind respectively. Spirit of Sark in particular has done better overnight and I am sure they will be visible once this fog lifts.
So with 6880 miles under the keel since Cape Town we shall cross a finish line in sight of two other yachts. Although we are no longer competing for a podium place, these positions are important. If we finish in our present ranking, we shall still be joint first overall, While Spirit of Sark will be four points behind. They will be desperate to get into our position and with the very light winds ahead, this is a possibility.
We must endure one more 24 hour period of light winds lottery, with no chance to rectify any damage. Keep your fingers crossed, and for those waiting in Boston rest assured that we are going as fast as we can.
If we cross our fingers and view the winds optimistically, we shall get in end of Monday. Finishing this race reminds me of the frog hopping across a table, the first time he jumps he gets half way across the table, the second jump takes him half the remaining distance..and so on forever.
While the distance to the finish seems to shrink but never reaches an end the same cannot be said for our competitors Imagine It. Done and Spirit of Sark - who are 2 and 6 miles behind respectively. Spirit of Sark in particular has done better overnight and I am sure they will be visible once this fog lifts.
So with 6880 miles under the keel since Cape Town we shall cross a finish line in sight of two other yachts. Although we are no longer competing for a podium place, these positions are important. If we finish in our present ranking, we shall still be joint first overall, While Spirit of Sark will be four points behind. They will be desperate to get into our position and with the very light winds ahead, this is a possibility.
We must endure one more 24 hour period of light winds lottery, with no chance to rectify any damage. Keep your fingers crossed, and for those waiting in Boston rest assured that we are going as fast as we can.
Thursday, June 2, 2005
37' 32N 58' 20W
Well even the most optimistic of BP Explorer's supporters must be able to see that we are in a difficult position. Four days to go and four yachts are locked into a scrappy fight for 5th place - 5th! And the yachts that are in
this battle were 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th in the last leg to Cape Town. Not what we hoped for, not at all. 3rd and 4th place are achievable, but overnight, it is the yachts behind which occupy my thoughts. As for second, there is hope, but we will need a lot of wind holes to slow them up and the
next time I see the crew of BG SPIRIT will be in a bar in Boston!
When I started this campaign, the first person I got in contact with was a sports psychologist - Simon Timson. We talked about mental toughness for both the skipper and the crew. When we talk about ocean yacht racing being tough, it's not just physical, at least half (and I think more) is mental
robustness. This leg had not been difficult physically, in fact with the warm weather and plentiful food onboard a number of crew are getting rounder. It has been hard mentally. Despite all our best efforts - and an excellent 4 week run up the Atlantic which saw us in the top two for all our objective points of Tropic of Cancer, Equator, Tropic of Capricorn - here we are.
The crew handle it with the slogan ''control the controllables and forget the rest''. If they work hard all watch and sail the boat well that is a definition of success. The crew also now have an innate confidence in the boat's abilities. Perhaps the person whose mental robustness takes the biggest hammering is my own.
Skippers have a tendency to personalise yacht racing. Skippers that are ahead can be seen as ''better''. Not better crews or, more to the point, lucky crews - but better skippers. This way lies madness! and was discussed with Simon Timson at length in the cold winter months that preceded this race. Once you start talking about better or worse skippers, then your ego is tied into the performance of the yacht. Now as we all know, the ego is a very vulnerable entity. If you tie your own ego into the performance of the yacht then your own mental health is going to take a real battering. The end result can be ''my yacht is in a bad place therefore I am a bad person'' kind of a mindset.
You can see it in some of the stopovers, a bad result can start to crush a skipper and they become slightly 'down' for their time in port. It's tough on them, and tough on the crew. One thing I try to think about is that my wife Kate and our little baby boy Jasper will be waiting for me on the
pontoon in Boston. What sort of person do they want to be greeted by? Someone defeated by events out of their control, or a positive person still confident in their abilities? Well the answer's obvious.
This has been a difficult leg and it's not over yet. Places are still up for grabs in front, and dangerous yachts lurk just a few miles astern. But whatever the result, this team is going to walk off the yacht (and straight into the first bar) with heads high.
this battle were 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th in the last leg to Cape Town. Not what we hoped for, not at all. 3rd and 4th place are achievable, but overnight, it is the yachts behind which occupy my thoughts. As for second, there is hope, but we will need a lot of wind holes to slow them up and the
next time I see the crew of BG SPIRIT will be in a bar in Boston!
When I started this campaign, the first person I got in contact with was a sports psychologist - Simon Timson. We talked about mental toughness for both the skipper and the crew. When we talk about ocean yacht racing being tough, it's not just physical, at least half (and I think more) is mental
robustness. This leg had not been difficult physically, in fact with the warm weather and plentiful food onboard a number of crew are getting rounder. It has been hard mentally. Despite all our best efforts - and an excellent 4 week run up the Atlantic which saw us in the top two for all our objective points of Tropic of Cancer, Equator, Tropic of Capricorn - here we are.
The crew handle it with the slogan ''control the controllables and forget the rest''. If they work hard all watch and sail the boat well that is a definition of success. The crew also now have an innate confidence in the boat's abilities. Perhaps the person whose mental robustness takes the biggest hammering is my own.
Skippers have a tendency to personalise yacht racing. Skippers that are ahead can be seen as ''better''. Not better crews or, more to the point, lucky crews - but better skippers. This way lies madness! and was discussed with Simon Timson at length in the cold winter months that preceded this race. Once you start talking about better or worse skippers, then your ego is tied into the performance of the yacht. Now as we all know, the ego is a very vulnerable entity. If you tie your own ego into the performance of the yacht then your own mental health is going to take a real battering. The end result can be ''my yacht is in a bad place therefore I am a bad person'' kind of a mindset.
You can see it in some of the stopovers, a bad result can start to crush a skipper and they become slightly 'down' for their time in port. It's tough on them, and tough on the crew. One thing I try to think about is that my wife Kate and our little baby boy Jasper will be waiting for me on the
pontoon in Boston. What sort of person do they want to be greeted by? Someone defeated by events out of their control, or a positive person still confident in their abilities? Well the answer's obvious.
This has been a difficult leg and it's not over yet. Places are still up for grabs in front, and dangerous yachts lurk just a few miles astern. But whatever the result, this team is going to walk off the yacht (and straight into the first bar) with heads high.
Monday, May 30, 2005
32' 45N 50' 27W
I need to choose my words carefully if I am to describe the last 48 hours or so. Light Winds Lottery is a phrase racing sailors sometimes use to describe such conditions and perhaps I will leave it at that.
Working in the hot sun, with sails slatting overhead, boat speeds close to zero and schedules that show others nearby in differing wind speeds - in many ways these conditions have been the most trying we have encountered in the circumnavigation. We have laboured away stoically, trying to stay cheerful, each crewmember hoping for wind and some equal conditions to fight in.
Last night the random nature of yacht movements continued apace. We gained 10 miles on Team Stelmar, meanwhile SAIC La Jolla overtook us and from even further behind
Imagine It. Done. overtook all of us.
All of us are capable of being a little tetchy and in an effort to make light of this I asked Naomi to create two 30cm diameter medals. Made of Dacron and proudly worn around the recipient's neck, they declare:
With smiling face ''I am a happy bugger''
And
With unhappy face ''I am a miserable git''
Both watches were made aware that these medals were to be issued at the daily 1200 meeting, one of each type, for each watch. A kangaroo court was hastily organised and a 'happy bugger' and 'miserable git' for each watch were duly presented with their medals. To be frank the sins of the miserable were rather mild and in some cases frankly misquoted. They did allow us to once again focus on the issues of morale and team spirit. If you are laughing and stitching each other up over 'miserable git' medals your team
is invariably ok. They also allowed us to humorously make the point that negative behaviour would be highlighted by the awarding of a large medal in a group environment. There's only one way to avoid getting the 'mis' medal and that's to be cheerful.
There is photographic evidence of the first recipients - but as for names I am sworn to silence. There will be more presentations with each medal being proudly inscribed with the name of past winners. Seven more days to Boston and seven more winners!
It feels very much like we have escaped the prolonged calms and for the next 36 hours we should have moderate westerlies. We have a challenging task ahead and some varied conditions over the next seven days - including another
period of calm. We are determined to win the battle of the becalmed boats, but part of it appears to be in the lap of the wind gods.
Working in the hot sun, with sails slatting overhead, boat speeds close to zero and schedules that show others nearby in differing wind speeds - in many ways these conditions have been the most trying we have encountered in the circumnavigation. We have laboured away stoically, trying to stay cheerful, each crewmember hoping for wind and some equal conditions to fight in.
Last night the random nature of yacht movements continued apace. We gained 10 miles on Team Stelmar, meanwhile SAIC La Jolla overtook us and from even further behind
Imagine It. Done. overtook all of us.
All of us are capable of being a little tetchy and in an effort to make light of this I asked Naomi to create two 30cm diameter medals. Made of Dacron and proudly worn around the recipient's neck, they declare:
With smiling face ''I am a happy bugger''
And
With unhappy face ''I am a miserable git''
Both watches were made aware that these medals were to be issued at the daily 1200 meeting, one of each type, for each watch. A kangaroo court was hastily organised and a 'happy bugger' and 'miserable git' for each watch were duly presented with their medals. To be frank the sins of the miserable were rather mild and in some cases frankly misquoted. They did allow us to once again focus on the issues of morale and team spirit. If you are laughing and stitching each other up over 'miserable git' medals your team
is invariably ok. They also allowed us to humorously make the point that negative behaviour would be highlighted by the awarding of a large medal in a group environment. There's only one way to avoid getting the 'mis' medal and that's to be cheerful.
There is photographic evidence of the first recipients - but as for names I am sworn to silence. There will be more presentations with each medal being proudly inscribed with the name of past winners. Seven more days to Boston and seven more winners!
It feels very much like we have escaped the prolonged calms and for the next 36 hours we should have moderate westerlies. We have a challenging task ahead and some varied conditions over the next seven days - including another
period of calm. We are determined to win the battle of the becalmed boats, but part of it appears to be in the lap of the wind gods.
Friday, May 27, 2005
29' 12N 46' 50W
Well we have been here before this trip, have we not? I am not sure if it's easier to put up with because of its familiarity or more frustrating because of the ''Oh no, not again'' feel to it all.
Yesterday under a baking hot sun, we sat with no wind, watching yellow sails appear on the horizon astern. Ghosting closer on the dying breeze came first Spirit of Sark and then Team Stelmar and all the hard won miles began to run backwards. Out to the east, Barclays Adventurer were doing the same. Further indignity was to follow
as Spirit of Sark glided slowly around us and settled 2 miles in front slightly off the port bow. In the middle of all this I received an email from Kate my wife, telling me that she and baby Jasper would be unable to make the finish in Boston due to a booking error with the tickets...they will arrive later. For much of yesterday I had a kind of mental image of Edvard Munch's ''The Scream'' playing inside my head.
I suppose if I am honest, what I really begrudge the other yachts, is the feeling of relief and happiness such a reversal of fortune brings. Two days ago Spirit of Sark was 25 miles behind sailing with furrowed brow, agonising over sail
trim wondering how they were going to claw back the distance - marvellous! Now they are back in it.
BG SPIRIT has pulled a bold move relentlessly pushing out to the north to find new wind first. They are 124m out to our right. There is a downside to what they have done, they must find a way back to the line. Westerlies are forecast
for the end of the leg and this might prove difficult for them. Well it's something to watch for anyway.
As for us, we are the same as usual. People are frustrated, but not visibly so. We have a confidence in our sailing skills and don't feel the distance between 5th and 2nd is significant in the medium term. As for first, well we will just have to watch the westerlies at the end. But time is running short, 7 to 8 days to go and the pressure is on.
As for Jasper, he is just a few weeks over one year and I have missed him a great deal on this leg (the last of the 5 week odysseys). I receive regular reports of how he proudly pushes his brick trolley along, using the handle as a support, but have never seen it myself. He is still to take his first
steps unaided and I very much hope to see this take place in Boston. So if there is a little more progress on the sailing front - and temporarily, a little less progress on the walking front, I will be a happy man!
Yesterday under a baking hot sun, we sat with no wind, watching yellow sails appear on the horizon astern. Ghosting closer on the dying breeze came first Spirit of Sark and then Team Stelmar and all the hard won miles began to run backwards. Out to the east, Barclays Adventurer were doing the same. Further indignity was to follow
as Spirit of Sark glided slowly around us and settled 2 miles in front slightly off the port bow. In the middle of all this I received an email from Kate my wife, telling me that she and baby Jasper would be unable to make the finish in Boston due to a booking error with the tickets...they will arrive later. For much of yesterday I had a kind of mental image of Edvard Munch's ''The Scream'' playing inside my head.
I suppose if I am honest, what I really begrudge the other yachts, is the feeling of relief and happiness such a reversal of fortune brings. Two days ago Spirit of Sark was 25 miles behind sailing with furrowed brow, agonising over sail
trim wondering how they were going to claw back the distance - marvellous! Now they are back in it.
BG SPIRIT has pulled a bold move relentlessly pushing out to the north to find new wind first. They are 124m out to our right. There is a downside to what they have done, they must find a way back to the line. Westerlies are forecast
for the end of the leg and this might prove difficult for them. Well it's something to watch for anyway.
As for us, we are the same as usual. People are frustrated, but not visibly so. We have a confidence in our sailing skills and don't feel the distance between 5th and 2nd is significant in the medium term. As for first, well we will just have to watch the westerlies at the end. But time is running short, 7 to 8 days to go and the pressure is on.
As for Jasper, he is just a few weeks over one year and I have missed him a great deal on this leg (the last of the 5 week odysseys). I receive regular reports of how he proudly pushes his brick trolley along, using the handle as a support, but have never seen it myself. He is still to take his first
steps unaided and I very much hope to see this take place in Boston. So if there is a little more progress on the sailing front - and temporarily, a little less progress on the walking front, I will be a happy man!
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
22' 27N 42' 10W
Tactics, tactics. Imagine having to think about the same problem, every 6 hours every day for 35 days - that's tactics (that's looking after a baby I hear Kate, my wife, cry). There is the predicted wind and the frustrating nature of the wind that materialises. Your analysis of what the competitors will get up to and their actual track on the ground. All of us, to some degree or another, are playing a cat and mouse game with each other.
We know exactly what time we are 'pinged' by satellite and you can time your manoeuvres around this - hiding for six hours any changes in course that you might wish to make. There are even rumours that 'some yachts' have resorted to placing a saucepan over the satellite receiver to deflect the incoming 'ping' signal and thus prevent their position from being revealed - however, I have never liked conspiracy theories and prefer to put it down to atmospherics.
This has always been a tricky race for us tactically. We started with Spirit of Sark 2 points behind us and BG SPIRIT 4 points. We want to beat them both, but the need to beat Spirit of Sark is greater than that of BG SPIRIT. Ideally our two competitors would sail in the same area of ocean, we would seek to place ourselves in an advantaged position relative to the wind and hope to profit by it. However, BG SPIRIT and Spirit of Sark sail tactically different races. Spirit of Sark always tend to sail the line, i.e. the shortest distance between two points. BG SPIRIT prefer to sail right out to the margins of the course, where the opportunity for gain (and loss) are highest. The two boats are rarely in the same place at the same time and as a result present a continual headache to us. Where best to place yourself to cover two boats 80 miles apart?
Looking at positions now shows the dilemma. Out to the right BG SPIRIT, over to the left Spirit of Sark - somewhere in the middle us. This afternoon we went on a losing gybe for a number of hours in an effort to move closer to BG SPIRIT. We fretted for 3 hours, convinced that the others in the fleet must be making ground on us as they took the making gybe (the course that most closest matches the bearing to Boston). By the end of it we were 40 degrees off course and we could stand it no longer. We gybed and immediately began to sail down the bearing to Boston. When the schedules came I was sure that we would see movement towards BG SPIRIT and away from Spirit of Sark. We got the latter, but as for movement towards BG SPIRIT, not a drop. During that time they had sailed an even more extreme course than ours and had moved further north. The gap had widened not reduced.
Obviously BG SPIRIT feel there is an advantage to being out to the right of the course and I tend to share their opinion. For the next four days we are going through variable wind conditions and they may well overtake us. After that period the advantage shifts to the boats on the left and certainly in the last week in the run up to Boston boats to the left of the course should do a bit better. As to who will prosper over the entire route - well that depends upon the wind - and the wind is nobody's master. Or as I have been misquoted in the past 'the wind will make a monkey out of you.'
What I would really like is a fast-forward button. Let's skip all the waiting and agonising and find out what happens at the end. That way we could all just sit back and relax. In the absence of that I must wait six hours at a time to see who is a winner and who the loser. The positions and potentials can endlessly play on my mind in the hours in between. If I'm not careful I can be consumed by fruitless worrying, endlessly obsessing about boats I cannot affect. The answer lies in constructively sailing BP Explorer and between the covers of a good book. My entire personal weight allowance is made up of novels and disappearing into a wonderful fiction is my greatest pleasure. In the last two weeks I have travelled in Vichy France courtesy of Sebastian Faulks and Charlotte Grey and to the outer reaches of the Universe via Iain M. Banks and Look to Windward.
We know exactly what time we are 'pinged' by satellite and you can time your manoeuvres around this - hiding for six hours any changes in course that you might wish to make. There are even rumours that 'some yachts' have resorted to placing a saucepan over the satellite receiver to deflect the incoming 'ping' signal and thus prevent their position from being revealed - however, I have never liked conspiracy theories and prefer to put it down to atmospherics.
This has always been a tricky race for us tactically. We started with Spirit of Sark 2 points behind us and BG SPIRIT 4 points. We want to beat them both, but the need to beat Spirit of Sark is greater than that of BG SPIRIT. Ideally our two competitors would sail in the same area of ocean, we would seek to place ourselves in an advantaged position relative to the wind and hope to profit by it. However, BG SPIRIT and Spirit of Sark sail tactically different races. Spirit of Sark always tend to sail the line, i.e. the shortest distance between two points. BG SPIRIT prefer to sail right out to the margins of the course, where the opportunity for gain (and loss) are highest. The two boats are rarely in the same place at the same time and as a result present a continual headache to us. Where best to place yourself to cover two boats 80 miles apart?
Looking at positions now shows the dilemma. Out to the right BG SPIRIT, over to the left Spirit of Sark - somewhere in the middle us. This afternoon we went on a losing gybe for a number of hours in an effort to move closer to BG SPIRIT. We fretted for 3 hours, convinced that the others in the fleet must be making ground on us as they took the making gybe (the course that most closest matches the bearing to Boston). By the end of it we were 40 degrees off course and we could stand it no longer. We gybed and immediately began to sail down the bearing to Boston. When the schedules came I was sure that we would see movement towards BG SPIRIT and away from Spirit of Sark. We got the latter, but as for movement towards BG SPIRIT, not a drop. During that time they had sailed an even more extreme course than ours and had moved further north. The gap had widened not reduced.
Obviously BG SPIRIT feel there is an advantage to being out to the right of the course and I tend to share their opinion. For the next four days we are going through variable wind conditions and they may well overtake us. After that period the advantage shifts to the boats on the left and certainly in the last week in the run up to Boston boats to the left of the course should do a bit better. As to who will prosper over the entire route - well that depends upon the wind - and the wind is nobody's master. Or as I have been misquoted in the past 'the wind will make a monkey out of you.'
What I would really like is a fast-forward button. Let's skip all the waiting and agonising and find out what happens at the end. That way we could all just sit back and relax. In the absence of that I must wait six hours at a time to see who is a winner and who the loser. The positions and potentials can endlessly play on my mind in the hours in between. If I'm not careful I can be consumed by fruitless worrying, endlessly obsessing about boats I cannot affect. The answer lies in constructively sailing BP Explorer and between the covers of a good book. My entire personal weight allowance is made up of novels and disappearing into a wonderful fiction is my greatest pleasure. In the last two weeks I have travelled in Vichy France courtesy of Sebastian Faulks and Charlotte Grey and to the outer reaches of the Universe via Iain M. Banks and Look to Windward.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
13' 38N 36' 26W
BP Explorer is reaching an arrow straight on a course across the North East trades. 322 True takes us straight to Boston and our average speed is around 9.8kts. The spinnakers are safely packed away and sturdy yellow sails power the boat. Some of the easiest miles across the ocean that we have ever had. It has been this way for 48 hours and looks set for another 48 hours. During these 4 days we hope to cover some 1000 miles towards the finish. Stress free miles they may be, but it takes some concentration.
On watch there is a constant flow of information:
''Are you on course?'' calls the headsail trimmer who stands midway up the yacht staring at the tell tales on the headsails.
''I am high'' replies the helmsman and then ''that is course'' as the yacht is nudged down 5 degrees onto the 335 compass.
''In on the headsail'' calls the trimmer again.
The headsail winchman responds with ''Coming in on the yankee'' and grinds in around 4cm of rope.
''Hold'' comes the call from the trimmer.
''How's the mainsail?'' questions the helm.
''Looks good' answers the main trimmer.
In front of the helm are six displays providing 7 different types of information and less they forget a large sign that proclaims ''HELM ARE YOU FOCUSED?''
We are trying to sail 1 percent faster than the opposition. Sailing at 10 knots, being 1 percent better than the others would see us gain 0.6 miles in six hours = 2.4 miles in 24 hours. In four days we would have gained 9.6 miles and regained the lead we lost in the doldrums. You wouldn't think it would be so difficult. I mean 1 percent, who's going to notice? But it is difficult and not always possible. Some watches we manage it, some we don't. But we can't expect to do it all the time; the others are trying just the same. This is how difficult and competitive this race has become. We are finding it hard to go 1 percent faster than the boats around us.
These gains and losses are calculated by the navigators and they periodically appear on deck to inform the helms to ''Come up 5'' depending upon how our overall course on the computer charts are showing. This constant flow of information around the deck is the sound of a successful racing boat. Silence is a sign that the crew have stopped working.
It's not particularly quiet down below either. For over 8 hours a day the generator clatters noisily away providing power to the battery chargers and watermaker. The watermaker high-pressure pump whines away and there is a persistent hiss of water through the filters which operate at 850psi. In the aft accommodation two budget fans (acquired in Cape Town) are permanently on and the sound of their cheap motors creates a noise not unlike sitting in the back of a 747 long haul. The combined effect is that of a floating factory, where the workforce struggle to be heard above the machinery. The good news is that this loud background noise down below is also kind of hypnotic and can send you off to sleep - which is where I'm going.
Footnote: The regular calls of the headsail trimmer were replaced last night by an surprised and distressed ''Jesus Christ, bloody hell, what the, oh my eye'' Like King Harold in 1066, Stephen Albury the headsail trimmer had been struck in the eye by a flying fish and had to be relieved of his task and sent down below. This morning he is nursing a very red and inflamed eye. This has provided the crew with much amusement and even Stephen is laughing about it today. Inevitably this has become known as ''The Curious Incident of the Fish in the Night time''
On watch there is a constant flow of information:
''Are you on course?'' calls the headsail trimmer who stands midway up the yacht staring at the tell tales on the headsails.
''I am high'' replies the helmsman and then ''that is course'' as the yacht is nudged down 5 degrees onto the 335 compass.
''In on the headsail'' calls the trimmer again.
The headsail winchman responds with ''Coming in on the yankee'' and grinds in around 4cm of rope.
''Hold'' comes the call from the trimmer.
''How's the mainsail?'' questions the helm.
''Looks good' answers the main trimmer.
In front of the helm are six displays providing 7 different types of information and less they forget a large sign that proclaims ''HELM ARE YOU FOCUSED?''
We are trying to sail 1 percent faster than the opposition. Sailing at 10 knots, being 1 percent better than the others would see us gain 0.6 miles in six hours = 2.4 miles in 24 hours. In four days we would have gained 9.6 miles and regained the lead we lost in the doldrums. You wouldn't think it would be so difficult. I mean 1 percent, who's going to notice? But it is difficult and not always possible. Some watches we manage it, some we don't. But we can't expect to do it all the time; the others are trying just the same. This is how difficult and competitive this race has become. We are finding it hard to go 1 percent faster than the boats around us.
These gains and losses are calculated by the navigators and they periodically appear on deck to inform the helms to ''Come up 5'' depending upon how our overall course on the computer charts are showing. This constant flow of information around the deck is the sound of a successful racing boat. Silence is a sign that the crew have stopped working.
It's not particularly quiet down below either. For over 8 hours a day the generator clatters noisily away providing power to the battery chargers and watermaker. The watermaker high-pressure pump whines away and there is a persistent hiss of water through the filters which operate at 850psi. In the aft accommodation two budget fans (acquired in Cape Town) are permanently on and the sound of their cheap motors creates a noise not unlike sitting in the back of a 747 long haul. The combined effect is that of a floating factory, where the workforce struggle to be heard above the machinery. The good news is that this loud background noise down below is also kind of hypnotic and can send you off to sleep - which is where I'm going.
Footnote: The regular calls of the headsail trimmer were replaced last night by an surprised and distressed ''Jesus Christ, bloody hell, what the, oh my eye'' Like King Harold in 1066, Stephen Albury the headsail trimmer had been struck in the eye by a flying fish and had to be relieved of his task and sent down below. This morning he is nursing a very red and inflamed eye. This has provided the crew with much amusement and even Stephen is laughing about it today. Inevitably this has become known as ''The Curious Incident of the Fish in the Night time''
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Atlantic Ocean
Well it's disappointing isn't it? You went to bed looking at us somewhere in first / second and you wake up and we're in 4th. More to the point Spirit of Sark safely vanquished to 30miles astern is now 4 miles in front.... How is that
possible? Answer: the doldrums.
It is to say the least very frustrating. Yesterday the wind went very fickle ranging from 090 to 180 to 270degrees. Giant grey cumulonimbus clouds towered all around with dark rain falling like arrows from underneath. The clouds often move far quicker than we can. In front of them is wind, underneath them all is still. Through this minefield we crept at modest speed. VAIO shadowed us and towards the middle of the night we met up with BG SPIRIT. They lodged port and starboard of us 1 mile astern. From 0200 until 0600 the night was filled with rain, then squall then calm. Headsails and spinnakers went up and down and the crew laboured in shorts and t-shirts, drenched to the skin.
At 0730 we looked to the schedules to see how we had faired. BG SPIRIT, Spirit of Sark and SAIC, all in front. BG SPIRIT by a stomach churning 7.5miles. Of course it wasn't all bad - VAIO had done worse and were 6 miles behind, but that didn't really take the sting out of it.
Things tend to go quiet when the schedules turn mean on us. We have been behind before and always bounce back., ''We'll soon get them'' is muttered encouragingly between crew, but there is a childish sense of ''its just not fair'' as well. The business of sailing makes it all go away, but the situation does not really lift until we feel that the winds have become constant across the fleet and sailing parity is achieved - making it possible for us to catch up again. This has not yet taken place. We are almost out of the doldrums, but not quite, there may still be a few surprises left. A slight air of anxiety hangs in the air.
It was during this busy night that BP Explorer passed a significant milestone. We crossed the outbound track made from Portsmouth to Buenos Aires and all became sailing circumnavigators. For some this means little, the return to Portsmouth being the conclusion. For others onboard this event really does have significance. For many of my crew initially knew nothing of sailing and the sea. They dreamt of sailing around the world in a yacht race and even when they left from Portsmouth, the deep ocean was such an unknown quantity that there was no guarantee that the adventure would end in success. My relationship with the circumnavigation is completely different. One bit of ocean is pretty much like the next and I knew that I would get
around. Not so all onboard, it was a bold and optimistic step into the unknown and even now not all can completely articulate, why they felt it necessary to take such drastic action. But you do not leave your home and family, spend over £28,000 and to be honest put your life at risk unless you feel compelled to do so. The crew have made significant sacrifices to make this trip and so have their families. It is a fantastic achievement for them all to have crossed the outbound track and completed a circumnavigation.
They cross the line seasoned ocean sailors and a fine professional crew that any skipper would be proud of - and this one particularly so. So ''tread softly for you tread on my dreams''. Anything is possible in this life if you want it enough, including passing a few yachts who got lucky in the doldrums.
possible? Answer: the doldrums.
It is to say the least very frustrating. Yesterday the wind went very fickle ranging from 090 to 180 to 270degrees. Giant grey cumulonimbus clouds towered all around with dark rain falling like arrows from underneath. The clouds often move far quicker than we can. In front of them is wind, underneath them all is still. Through this minefield we crept at modest speed. VAIO shadowed us and towards the middle of the night we met up with BG SPIRIT. They lodged port and starboard of us 1 mile astern. From 0200 until 0600 the night was filled with rain, then squall then calm. Headsails and spinnakers went up and down and the crew laboured in shorts and t-shirts, drenched to the skin.
At 0730 we looked to the schedules to see how we had faired. BG SPIRIT, Spirit of Sark and SAIC, all in front. BG SPIRIT by a stomach churning 7.5miles. Of course it wasn't all bad - VAIO had done worse and were 6 miles behind, but that didn't really take the sting out of it.
Things tend to go quiet when the schedules turn mean on us. We have been behind before and always bounce back., ''We'll soon get them'' is muttered encouragingly between crew, but there is a childish sense of ''its just not fair'' as well. The business of sailing makes it all go away, but the situation does not really lift until we feel that the winds have become constant across the fleet and sailing parity is achieved - making it possible for us to catch up again. This has not yet taken place. We are almost out of the doldrums, but not quite, there may still be a few surprises left. A slight air of anxiety hangs in the air.
It was during this busy night that BP Explorer passed a significant milestone. We crossed the outbound track made from Portsmouth to Buenos Aires and all became sailing circumnavigators. For some this means little, the return to Portsmouth being the conclusion. For others onboard this event really does have significance. For many of my crew initially knew nothing of sailing and the sea. They dreamt of sailing around the world in a yacht race and even when they left from Portsmouth, the deep ocean was such an unknown quantity that there was no guarantee that the adventure would end in success. My relationship with the circumnavigation is completely different. One bit of ocean is pretty much like the next and I knew that I would get
around. Not so all onboard, it was a bold and optimistic step into the unknown and even now not all can completely articulate, why they felt it necessary to take such drastic action. But you do not leave your home and family, spend over £28,000 and to be honest put your life at risk unless you feel compelled to do so. The crew have made significant sacrifices to make this trip and so have their families. It is a fantastic achievement for them all to have crossed the outbound track and completed a circumnavigation.
They cross the line seasoned ocean sailors and a fine professional crew that any skipper would be proud of - and this one particularly so. So ''tread softly for you tread on my dreams''. Anything is possible in this life if you want it enough, including passing a few yachts who got lucky in the doldrums.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
2' 55S 22' 36W
Last night I went on deck at around 0130, half an hour before watch change at 0200. I had been awake for a while, feeling the large rolls of the yacht and listening to the slight tension and questioning in the helm's voices. We were sailing downwind with the 2.2oz kite and a reef in the main. The reef having gone in earlier in an effort to damp down the rolling caused by the rising wind. Boat speeds were often to be found at 18kts as the boat came down the back of waves.
The question in Olly and Holger's minds was that the wind was often to be found at 30kts (F7). Challenge yachts are really built to go upwind, they are relatively narrow and do not have a flat back section. The lack of surface area at the back means that the boats roll downwind, become hard to control, and eventually broach. During the broach the spinnaker flogs madly in the wind and is often torn or damaged. It's also dangerous and puts the crew at risk.
Set against this, was the fact that we were going very fast, and so was BG SPIRIT out to our left - and we had just overtaken VAIO who were 4 miles behind. Having said all that, the reason we had overtaken VAIO was because they had a poled out headsail and were all sitting down below trying to sew their flanker back together!
So as the guys struggled with the helm I sat by their side pondering the numbers and agonising over whether to take the spinnaker down, lose 1kt per hour, or leave it up and power along with BG. Of course the skipper of BG SPIRIT was thinking the reciprocal. Well Olly and Holger only had 30mins before the end of the watch and were becoming exhausted with it - I began to realise that I would have to take the helm to give them a break. As soon as the boys encouraged me to get on the wheel I began to feel apprehensive. It's one thing to spend 4 hours in a rising wind steering a yacht, your skill levels and reactions match the boat. The helm is literally 'in tune'. However the poor sap that is presented with what appears to be a madly out of control yacht at 0200 is in an entirely different position. There is no easing into it, you stand by the existing helm for a minute, and then when the boat comes upright and is momentarily on course he stands aside and the yacht is yours.
''Well I'm the skipper damn it, if I can't drive it who the hell can?'' was the thought I steeled myself with as I grabbed the wheel. As soon as Holger moved out the way and I had control, I knew it was a bad idea. It was pitch black, and I could not resolve the amount of helm to put on to counteract the corkscrewing motion of the following sea. I felt afraid - and the next thing the boat roared down a wave rolled to windward and went into a broach.
''EASE THE SHEET, EASE THE SHEET, EASE THE SHEET'' is screamed around the boat and organised panicking breaks out. There is no way I can control this boat, and I yell out in my most urgent voice ''GET IT DOWN, GET IT DOWN, GET IT DOWN''. The boat comes upright, accelerates down the next wave, and broaches again. One more time and there is not going to be a 2.2oz kite left to play with. ''OLLY FOR GOODNESS SAKE GET THIS ***** KITE DOWN NOW!''
'BANG' the guy is tripped and the kite flies away from the yacht ''Oh thank God for that'' I think, ''It's still in one piece''. It takes the whole watch to haul down the streaming spinnaker. Christian roars encouragement and fights like a mad thing ''2 - 6 Heave, 2-6 Heave''.
Fifteen minutes later we are sailing calmly along with a poled out No1 yankee, staysail and full main. Cups of tea are being handed around, and the question that everybody debates is ''What are the others doing? Will they have dropped the kites too or do they have super-helms that can control the yacht?'' What will the next schedules reveal? Potentially we are looking at a 1 mile per hour loss for every hour the kite is down. On the other hand the kite is lying safely on the cabin floor, being picked over by two diligent crewmembers. We live to fight another day.
Footnote: The 0742gmt schedules showed that speed within the lead boats remained relatively constant during the 4 hours we poled out the No1. As the sun rose we hoisted the kite again and are powering towards the equator.
The question in Olly and Holger's minds was that the wind was often to be found at 30kts (F7). Challenge yachts are really built to go upwind, they are relatively narrow and do not have a flat back section. The lack of surface area at the back means that the boats roll downwind, become hard to control, and eventually broach. During the broach the spinnaker flogs madly in the wind and is often torn or damaged. It's also dangerous and puts the crew at risk.
Set against this, was the fact that we were going very fast, and so was BG SPIRIT out to our left - and we had just overtaken VAIO who were 4 miles behind. Having said all that, the reason we had overtaken VAIO was because they had a poled out headsail and were all sitting down below trying to sew their flanker back together!
So as the guys struggled with the helm I sat by their side pondering the numbers and agonising over whether to take the spinnaker down, lose 1kt per hour, or leave it up and power along with BG. Of course the skipper of BG SPIRIT was thinking the reciprocal. Well Olly and Holger only had 30mins before the end of the watch and were becoming exhausted with it - I began to realise that I would have to take the helm to give them a break. As soon as the boys encouraged me to get on the wheel I began to feel apprehensive. It's one thing to spend 4 hours in a rising wind steering a yacht, your skill levels and reactions match the boat. The helm is literally 'in tune'. However the poor sap that is presented with what appears to be a madly out of control yacht at 0200 is in an entirely different position. There is no easing into it, you stand by the existing helm for a minute, and then when the boat comes upright and is momentarily on course he stands aside and the yacht is yours.
''Well I'm the skipper damn it, if I can't drive it who the hell can?'' was the thought I steeled myself with as I grabbed the wheel. As soon as Holger moved out the way and I had control, I knew it was a bad idea. It was pitch black, and I could not resolve the amount of helm to put on to counteract the corkscrewing motion of the following sea. I felt afraid - and the next thing the boat roared down a wave rolled to windward and went into a broach.
''EASE THE SHEET, EASE THE SHEET, EASE THE SHEET'' is screamed around the boat and organised panicking breaks out. There is no way I can control this boat, and I yell out in my most urgent voice ''GET IT DOWN, GET IT DOWN, GET IT DOWN''. The boat comes upright, accelerates down the next wave, and broaches again. One more time and there is not going to be a 2.2oz kite left to play with. ''OLLY FOR GOODNESS SAKE GET THIS ***** KITE DOWN NOW!''
'BANG' the guy is tripped and the kite flies away from the yacht ''Oh thank God for that'' I think, ''It's still in one piece''. It takes the whole watch to haul down the streaming spinnaker. Christian roars encouragement and fights like a mad thing ''2 - 6 Heave, 2-6 Heave''.
Fifteen minutes later we are sailing calmly along with a poled out No1 yankee, staysail and full main. Cups of tea are being handed around, and the question that everybody debates is ''What are the others doing? Will they have dropped the kites too or do they have super-helms that can control the yacht?'' What will the next schedules reveal? Potentially we are looking at a 1 mile per hour loss for every hour the kite is down. On the other hand the kite is lying safely on the cabin floor, being picked over by two diligent crewmembers. We live to fight another day.
Footnote: The 0742gmt schedules showed that speed within the lead boats remained relatively constant during the 4 hours we poled out the No1. As the sun rose we hoisted the kite again and are powering towards the equator.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
11 34s 12 32w
Keep the faith is a phrase that springs to mind on this long leg up the equator. The fleet is spread out over a 100 mile line NE to SW and the S Easterly trade winds blow more or less dead astern through this broad area. Inevitably there are variations in wind strengths and boats move forward and back depending upon what they find. You would not expect the wind in Southampton and Cherbourg to be the same all the time and so it is in the ocean. Over the long run you hope that the winds even out their favours across the whole area, but at present I have a feeling that the north end of the line is doing slightly better.
With the wind dead astern you are constantly offered two options, to go to the left or the right of the course. And as the wind oscillates + and - 10 degree one gybe or the other is favoured. When yachts are in sight of each other they often accompany each other on the same gybe for days upon end. Then the wind shifts in one area or another. One yacht takes one gybe, the other the opposite, and they begin to diverge and eventually lose sight of one another. Gybing to and fro over the last 24hours we have lost sight of Spirit of Sark and now have another companion behind us Team Stelmar.
Gybing a large yacht with spinnaker is a complex operation, which requires all of the watch to execute a role. The spinnaker is briefly flown with two spinnaker poles, the direction of the boat changed and the main transferred to the other side of the boat, and the redundant pole dropped. The stronger the wind the more difficult the operation. In the present conditions we may gybe as many as 16 times in 24 hours.
Teaching crews to gybe is something of a headache for the training crews in the UK. For a time nearly every rope and winch on the boat is in operation and eight or nine people must co-ordinate their activities. Crew volunteers face a very steep learning curve and all of them have their own training horror stories of exasperated skippers and confused crews. In discussion the other day it was estimated that gybes during training can take up to 20 minutes to complete, with the skipper and training mate running around like mad things trying to keep the spinnaker flying and the crew unharmed.
At present the fastest gybe performed on BP Explorer is 2.5 minutes and I don't think I was on deck at the time. Many of our manoeuvres are timed to gauge efficiency and this veteran crew do seem to get genuine satisfaction in their ability to understand a task and execute it quickly. The less direction they receive from me the more they can measure their progress from bumbling crew volunteer to skilled foredeck hand or spinnaker trimmer. Learning to sail the yacht and be confident onboard is as much of a journey
as the physical miles sailed.
With the wind dead astern you are constantly offered two options, to go to the left or the right of the course. And as the wind oscillates + and - 10 degree one gybe or the other is favoured. When yachts are in sight of each other they often accompany each other on the same gybe for days upon end. Then the wind shifts in one area or another. One yacht takes one gybe, the other the opposite, and they begin to diverge and eventually lose sight of one another. Gybing to and fro over the last 24hours we have lost sight of Spirit of Sark and now have another companion behind us Team Stelmar.
Gybing a large yacht with spinnaker is a complex operation, which requires all of the watch to execute a role. The spinnaker is briefly flown with two spinnaker poles, the direction of the boat changed and the main transferred to the other side of the boat, and the redundant pole dropped. The stronger the wind the more difficult the operation. In the present conditions we may gybe as many as 16 times in 24 hours.
Teaching crews to gybe is something of a headache for the training crews in the UK. For a time nearly every rope and winch on the boat is in operation and eight or nine people must co-ordinate their activities. Crew volunteers face a very steep learning curve and all of them have their own training horror stories of exasperated skippers and confused crews. In discussion the other day it was estimated that gybes during training can take up to 20 minutes to complete, with the skipper and training mate running around like mad things trying to keep the spinnaker flying and the crew unharmed.
At present the fastest gybe performed on BP Explorer is 2.5 minutes and I don't think I was on deck at the time. Many of our manoeuvres are timed to gauge efficiency and this veteran crew do seem to get genuine satisfaction in their ability to understand a task and execute it quickly. The less direction they receive from me the more they can measure their progress from bumbling crew volunteer to skilled foredeck hand or spinnaker trimmer. Learning to sail the yacht and be confident onboard is as much of a journey
as the physical miles sailed.
Monday, May 9, 2005
17 05s 03 43w
0430 GMT is 0530 local time onboard BP Explorer. Its still dark, as the tropical southern nights are giving us some 11 hours of darkness a day. We, like the rest of the fleet, are currently sailing easy miles. The wind is dead astern, the spinnaker is permanently set, wind range is around 18-20kts and the yacht eats up the distance, heading straight for our waypoint on the equator. We are slowly gaining on the yachts in front and our rival Spirit of Sark is located 3 miles astern its lights doggedly following us all night.
The agonising of a few days ago is over. It was an annoying time and boats to the east Team Stelmar / VAIO and Barclays Adventurer made gains on us, but then so to the east did SAIC La Jolla. Stuck in the middle, ourselves and Spirit of Sark seemed to find a band of reduced wind that slowed us. It may have been better to have cracked off and slid east, but then again we might have prospered out to the west too. What we do know is that given equal conditions we feel that we can beat any boat in the fleet. This gives us a residual confidence that carries us through dissapointment and setback.
The very early morning is quite a convivial time onboard. From about 0430 the mother watch (this morning it is Giles M) start to knead out the bread in the galley, at 0500 a vast pan of porridge is placed on the stove and the smell of baking bread fills the boat. At 0530 the new watch are woken and drift bleary eyed into the saloon to spoon up their breakfast, before going on deck at 0600.
This leg, like all the others, has seen a slightly different relationship between myself and the crew. As the crews skills develop and their abilities increase, they need less direction from myself and want coaching, not instruction. An increasingly constructive relationship is possible, nicer for them and better for me. As long as I see that the crew want to constantly improve, I am encouraged. We have a whiteboard on the bulkhead (wall) on which one watch will write tips/improvements so that anything that they have learnt can be passed onto the other watch. What is there to learn after 23,000 plus miles I hear you wonder? Small things now, but that is the nature of constant improvement. This morning appeared ''watch out not to catch spinnaker on bottom of companionway steps when packing'' and when I looked two pieces of tape had appeared on the bottom of the steps to prevent the kite from snagging as it is dragged around the inside of the yacht.
It might make you laugh but as a skipper this sort of detail is tremendously encouraging. If the crew are interested in the small things, then invariably the larger issues are covered with the same amount of concern. We have tried to foster a constant learning culture with the opportunity to swap jobs and roles onboard the boat and I think that the yacht is the better for it.
If the bread that I can smell baking is good at 0600 then that to me is a sign that the person who cooked it is motivated and that the boat as a whole is thinking about winning. The feeling that I am not pushing 17 people forward anymore, but racing alongside 17 other motivated crewmembers is very positive indeed.
The agonising of a few days ago is over. It was an annoying time and boats to the east Team Stelmar / VAIO and Barclays Adventurer made gains on us, but then so to the east did SAIC La Jolla. Stuck in the middle, ourselves and Spirit of Sark seemed to find a band of reduced wind that slowed us. It may have been better to have cracked off and slid east, but then again we might have prospered out to the west too. What we do know is that given equal conditions we feel that we can beat any boat in the fleet. This gives us a residual confidence that carries us through dissapointment and setback.
The very early morning is quite a convivial time onboard. From about 0430 the mother watch (this morning it is Giles M) start to knead out the bread in the galley, at 0500 a vast pan of porridge is placed on the stove and the smell of baking bread fills the boat. At 0530 the new watch are woken and drift bleary eyed into the saloon to spoon up their breakfast, before going on deck at 0600.
This leg, like all the others, has seen a slightly different relationship between myself and the crew. As the crews skills develop and their abilities increase, they need less direction from myself and want coaching, not instruction. An increasingly constructive relationship is possible, nicer for them and better for me. As long as I see that the crew want to constantly improve, I am encouraged. We have a whiteboard on the bulkhead (wall) on which one watch will write tips/improvements so that anything that they have learnt can be passed onto the other watch. What is there to learn after 23,000 plus miles I hear you wonder? Small things now, but that is the nature of constant improvement. This morning appeared ''watch out not to catch spinnaker on bottom of companionway steps when packing'' and when I looked two pieces of tape had appeared on the bottom of the steps to prevent the kite from snagging as it is dragged around the inside of the yacht.
It might make you laugh but as a skipper this sort of detail is tremendously encouraging. If the crew are interested in the small things, then invariably the larger issues are covered with the same amount of concern. We have tried to foster a constant learning culture with the opportunity to swap jobs and roles onboard the boat and I think that the yacht is the better for it.
If the bread that I can smell baking is good at 0600 then that to me is a sign that the person who cooked it is motivated and that the boat as a whole is thinking about winning. The feeling that I am not pushing 17 people forward anymore, but racing alongside 17 other motivated crewmembers is very positive indeed.
Friday, May 6, 2005
23' 03S 4' 25E
Yesterday was a good day, the boat was powered up, we were in the right place tactically, all the numbers on the schedules looked good and the weather was clear. As a skipper this results in a very pleasant feeling. All is well in your world, its easy to sleep, and when you awake to more good news from the schedules, its easy to joke with the crew and praise their efforts.
Today is a tense day... Overnight we/I agonised about whether to drop the genoa and bear away and raise the 1.5oz race kite. Do we, don't we? Have the others? You get the crew to set up the spinnaker and pole and then change your mind and hold the situation. You can't sleep, you have a nagging feeling that things aren't going well and six hours later the schedules come in. '' the boats to the east have made some big gains on us'' is the gloomy analysis from the navigator. Your fears are confirmed. Finally the wind falls into a shape that you are comfortable with the kite goes up and some form of parity with the others in the race is achieved.
Looking at the schedules you see that for the next 18hours we are in a vulnerable position on the inside line of the high waiting for the winds to fill and the next stage of the race to take shape.
As a skipper I find that you are often in this kind of situation and it is the hardest part of the job for me. You can't just do what everybody else is doing all the time. But unfortunately I have not cracked the art of being right all the time either. We are more often right than wrong or we wouldn't be consistently up the front. Dealing with the days like to today is the real challenge of skippering a boat.
We are sailing slowly and there is a likelihood that the boats to the east will be/ could be sailing faster. There is six hours between knowing what everybody is doing and finding out via the schedules. Its tempting to sit like a bear with a sore head, or roam the boat making observations about how
the crew might sail the boat faster. But the crew hate this and have told me at numerous debriefs. It has often proved a mistake to voice my concerns to crewmembers as this seems to have a bigger negative effect on their morale than the positive effect on my own! So like bosses the world over you have to put on a positive face, squash down the feeling that the race is disappearing over the horizon and practice logical thought control.
What we have lost we shall regain. Being down only brings the crew down. We know how to sail the boat and have proved it time over. Get on deck and be positive.
Well I'm glad I've got that off my chest I feel better now!
N.B For those that don't realise we are supplied with the position of all the boats in the fleet every 6 hours. These are know as 'the schedules'. I often think of this constant 6 hours analysis of the situation (every day for 35 days) as ''the tyranny of the schedules''. Pre satellite, yachts in ocean races might learn of positions once a week or at best once a day. Or in some cases by waiting in the bar at the finish and seeing who turned up next!
Today is a tense day... Overnight we/I agonised about whether to drop the genoa and bear away and raise the 1.5oz race kite. Do we, don't we? Have the others? You get the crew to set up the spinnaker and pole and then change your mind and hold the situation. You can't sleep, you have a nagging feeling that things aren't going well and six hours later the schedules come in. '' the boats to the east have made some big gains on us'' is the gloomy analysis from the navigator. Your fears are confirmed. Finally the wind falls into a shape that you are comfortable with the kite goes up and some form of parity with the others in the race is achieved.
Looking at the schedules you see that for the next 18hours we are in a vulnerable position on the inside line of the high waiting for the winds to fill and the next stage of the race to take shape.
As a skipper I find that you are often in this kind of situation and it is the hardest part of the job for me. You can't just do what everybody else is doing all the time. But unfortunately I have not cracked the art of being right all the time either. We are more often right than wrong or we wouldn't be consistently up the front. Dealing with the days like to today is the real challenge of skippering a boat.
We are sailing slowly and there is a likelihood that the boats to the east will be/ could be sailing faster. There is six hours between knowing what everybody is doing and finding out via the schedules. Its tempting to sit like a bear with a sore head, or roam the boat making observations about how
the crew might sail the boat faster. But the crew hate this and have told me at numerous debriefs. It has often proved a mistake to voice my concerns to crewmembers as this seems to have a bigger negative effect on their morale than the positive effect on my own! So like bosses the world over you have to put on a positive face, squash down the feeling that the race is disappearing over the horizon and practice logical thought control.
What we have lost we shall regain. Being down only brings the crew down. We know how to sail the boat and have proved it time over. Get on deck and be positive.
Well I'm glad I've got that off my chest I feel better now!
N.B For those that don't realise we are supplied with the position of all the boats in the fleet every 6 hours. These are know as 'the schedules'. I often think of this constant 6 hours analysis of the situation (every day for 35 days) as ''the tyranny of the schedules''. Pre satellite, yachts in ocean races might learn of positions once a week or at best once a day. Or in some cases by waiting in the bar at the finish and seeing who turned up next!
Tuesday, May 3, 2005
29' 2S 11' 15E
What are we up to? I hear you cry. Well its back to cat and mouse in the Atlantic. At present BP Explorer is aiming at a waypoint on the equator at the approximate position of a strange island Penedos St Pedro and St Paulo which is located right on the equator. This is a mark of the course and must be left to port. Traditionally it has paid off to be out on the left of the line as you go up to the equator and without this mark, some of us would probably have drifted even further to the left. Set against this is the South Atlantic High, the middle of which contains little wind. This pushes you right off the line. So go right and avoid possible light winds but possibly miss out later. Go left and look good for later and get caught by light winds in the process. Decisions, decisions.
Last night as Team Stelmar, Spirit of Sark and BP Explorer battled together under a weak trough line in the wind, Out to the left of the line SAIC La Jolla and Samsung sneaked past to take the top two positions. They look good today but will they suffer later?
The pattern for tropical weather is steady winds during the day and difficult changeable conditions at night. Between 0000 and 0500 the tops of clouds cool off and cool air descends from then creating rain and squalls. This changeable and rapid increase in wind threatens to blow spinnakers to pieces and with it race chances. Thus the night time is when we tend to work the hardest and last night was no exception. At one point during the night we dropped our flanker as winds built to a dangerous level. Out to our left Spirit of Sark choose to bear away rather than drop the kite. This forced them to run down on us and at one point you could have thrown a tennis ball between us. Rather than risk a collision they shot behind us at a rapid speed and were last seen heading over the horizon, where they remain to starboard. These hurried spinnaker drops can often be quite scary affairs. The crew hurriedly assemble beneath the boom and attempt to claw down a piece of cloth that would cover a tennis court. At one point in the last 24hours the spinnaker got the better of the team and threatened to pull a number of the crew overboard as the flanker blew away in a particularly gusty drop. Thankfully they were clipped on at the time.
So from a skippers perspective, there is much to keep you awake at night and my body and brain are slowly beginning to accept the broken sleep patterns that come with tropical spinnaker work.
Last night as Team Stelmar, Spirit of Sark and BP Explorer battled together under a weak trough line in the wind, Out to the left of the line SAIC La Jolla and Samsung sneaked past to take the top two positions. They look good today but will they suffer later?
The pattern for tropical weather is steady winds during the day and difficult changeable conditions at night. Between 0000 and 0500 the tops of clouds cool off and cool air descends from then creating rain and squalls. This changeable and rapid increase in wind threatens to blow spinnakers to pieces and with it race chances. Thus the night time is when we tend to work the hardest and last night was no exception. At one point during the night we dropped our flanker as winds built to a dangerous level. Out to our left Spirit of Sark choose to bear away rather than drop the kite. This forced them to run down on us and at one point you could have thrown a tennis ball between us. Rather than risk a collision they shot behind us at a rapid speed and were last seen heading over the horizon, where they remain to starboard. These hurried spinnaker drops can often be quite scary affairs. The crew hurriedly assemble beneath the boom and attempt to claw down a piece of cloth that would cover a tennis court. At one point in the last 24hours the spinnaker got the better of the team and threatened to pull a number of the crew overboard as the flanker blew away in a particularly gusty drop. Thankfully they were clipped on at the time.
So from a skippers perspective, there is much to keep you awake at night and my body and brain are slowly beginning to accept the broken sleep patterns that come with tropical spinnaker work.
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Leg 2 Day 25 : 52 31S 134 33W
Well in the week before xmas I thought it might be appropriate to hear a word from the skipper on progress to date. Our objectives are to be safe, happy and faster.
Safe:
John and Naomi have vividly described the conditions in which the crew have been working in. Nearly always cold, damp, arduous and sometimes dangerous. Our stated objective onboard is to ''be free from the unacceptable risk of harm''. We are trying to create an environment onboard where the crew can cross an ocean and not be injured - and have been assisted in this by Paul Everest a Safety Manager with BP.
Safety is a daily topic, formally discussed and changes continually made to our working practices. So far, on this our most risky passage, we have had only had two very minor injuries onboard - a bashed thumb and a pulled muscle in the back. You might get worse working in your back garden at the weekend!
All of the crew are committed to protecting each other and this might prove to be the most enduring achievement of the trip.
Happy:
We also discuss the morale onboard the boat on a daily basis. Another stated objective is that nobody should be unhappy during their time onboard the yacht. This is sometimes a challenging objective. Perhaps the most difficult aspect of racing a yacht is that you never have a day off.
Three times a day you must climb on deck and face a cold and biting wind that is rarely stable for more than an hour or so. There is an endless round of sail changes that require a high degree of effort and no respite until Wellington. The Southern Ocean is a bleak place with less wildlife than you might imagine - there is a continual greyness that cloaks the ocean and does little to lift the spirits.
But onboard the yacht laughter swirls around. The crew sit huddled together sniggering over their misfortunes. Where someone does become down, this is spotted and the story drawn out where possible. At the end of each watch issues must be communicated, resolved and forgotten.
Happiness is not left to chance. Each crewmember has an A4 laminate of people and places that they love. What I have noticed is that these are more often on hand than in the sunny Atlantic. People show each other their montages and while the faces are different, the images are the same.
Families pressed up around each other smiling at the camera. Friends crowd in holding drinks and smiling mischievously, pets look up loyally. Humans are such social animals, living in such close quarters down here does not seem oppressive, it's almost as if the harsh conditions require it.
Particularly at this emotional time of year I have been struck by the genuine warmth and affection that exists between the crewmembers of BP Explorer and their love for their friends and family at home.
Faster:
We have crossed 4000m of ocean and 50m separates 1st and 9th place. Those of you who don't regularly follow ocean racing might not realise, but this is extremely close and competitive racing. We are lying in second place at the moment, but our closest rival is only 1 mile behind and may well be 1 mile in front by the time this email reaches you.
BP Explorer is continually at the forefront of the fleet and this has taken an exceptional amount of effort from the crew. Sail changes are relentless and unless executed at speed lead to small reductions in speed which see you slowly fall back.
Everybody onboard must continually battle the wind and waves if we are not to be immediately overhauled by our competitors. In this the crew have been magnificent, their level of motivation and dedication to sailing the yacht is an inspiration. Months ago they arrived from disparate occupations and now labour together towards a single objective - the relentless pursuit of boat speed, where success is measured in a 1% advantage over your rivals.
As their skipper I am full of admiration for their energy, bravery, and cheerfulness.
So this xmas don't feel sorry for the crew of BP Explorer, they will soon be home to sit around fires and do the rounds of xmas parties. But this year they will experience something truly unique. The close comradeship that comes from working in a team for a worthwhile objective. They will miss the love of their families, but will be supported by the warmth and affection that exists onboard the boat. They will be safe, happy and faster.
David Melville
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Leg 1 Day 11 : 27°03'00.0"N 16°39'00.0"W
Well I suppose you would all like to know how you take a boat from first to the back of the pack in a few days. The answer is to take a holiday in the canaries. A lifetime ago we came out of a big storm battered but in front. The fleet had been scattered by the winds over a large distance and a new low pressure system was out to the west disrupting the more normal north easterly winds. To the east lay the Canaries. I have been planning weather for this trip for nearly a year and you always in the research try and avoid them, but our close rivals BG SPIRIT and Spirit of Sark were heading that way, some of the others in the fleet were heading west. Which way to go? We have always really rated BG SPIRIT and Spirit of Sark and so it a kind of fixed mindset I decided to go that way. it was something of a gamble and required going between Gran Canaria and Tenerife (at this point experienced sailors roll their eyes). So BG SPIRIT, Spirit of Sark and BP Explorer headed down between these islands in a kind of collective madness. We needed the wind to hold for this to work and inevitably it did not. We sailed slowly..... oh so slowly, between the islands and every position schedule showed a worse and worse picture. It was hell, there is nothing worse than being a skipper and leading your boat into a poor strategic position. I felt tense, anxious and miserable the whole day, it was so bad that I had stomach cramps. The only consolation was that we were not on our own. For most of this time Spirit of Sark were within close sight. First and second favourites, according to the bookies anyway, stuck behind an island where they should know better - ridiculous.
Well we are on our way again. We are out to the east and consider ourselves to be in a three boat race for the next week. Slightly higher speed trade winds are forecast out here and so we should be able to slowly claw back some mileage. Realistically we are not going to see any big changes in the short term. Things should be shaken into place by the Cape Verde islands which are a few days away yet. Of course it doesn't look good, but the thing to remember that this is a long race. So much has happened and we have only been going about 10 days there is probably another 25 days left to sort this mess out.
When I realised the true horror of the situation I sent a rather down email to my wife Kate. She replied that ''the lessons we are meant to learn in life are the ones we fear the most''. So here I am learning how to be a good skipper and not be in the lead. The crew are unperturbed and supportive. We have decided to work this one out as a team - control the controllables and let the rest do what they will.
Well we are on our way again. We are out to the east and consider ourselves to be in a three boat race for the next week. Slightly higher speed trade winds are forecast out here and so we should be able to slowly claw back some mileage. Realistically we are not going to see any big changes in the short term. Things should be shaken into place by the Cape Verde islands which are a few days away yet. Of course it doesn't look good, but the thing to remember that this is a long race. So much has happened and we have only been going about 10 days there is probably another 25 days left to sort this mess out.
When I realised the true horror of the situation I sent a rather down email to my wife Kate. She replied that ''the lessons we are meant to learn in life are the ones we fear the most''. So here I am learning how to be a good skipper and not be in the lead. The crew are unperturbed and supportive. We have decided to work this one out as a team - control the controllables and let the rest do what they will.
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