As the last heat of the sun faded opposite Table Mountain, BP Explorer languished in a fickle breeze and we watched as Stelmar ghosted along beside us to port and Imagine it. Done flanked the golden beaches hugging the coastline to the west of the last of our three great capes - the Cape of Good Hope. The mast of Spirit of Sark, meanwhile, crept quietly away from us dead ahead in the building fog. The line of wind to starboard seemed to favour Imagine inshore and our genoa flapped sickeningly whilst we began to fear the worst - the possibility of losing the podium place which we have fought so relentlessly for over five tough weeks. The sun sank, and a band of colour melted behind Team Stelmar, lighting up a purple line of fog in front of their hull.
Suddenly, the breeze shifted. Imagine appeared to slide backwards and with a wind-shift aft, we unexpectedly found ourselves able to hoist the lightweight kite. It went up like a dream - everyone performing their roles seamlessly just when they needed to! BP Explorer lifted her skirts and began to glide away from Stelmar, who pursued us under No.1 yankee and staysail. All too soon, however, they were kiting it as well and hot on our heels. Spirit of Sark for now swallowed up into the fog, we played each gentle breath of breeze sent our way and inched away from Stelmar slowly but surely, covering her every move as she bore away and tried to sail cross behind us to starboard. The time for watch changeover came and went and with all 18 crew on deck we nurtured every 0.1 of a knot of speed out of our spinnaker. Each little move that you make in these conditions affects boat speed and nothing was left to chance. By 11pm boat time we were over a mile ahead of her and thinks were looking up!
Over the evening and into the night, the winds have shifted and built, stabilised and dropped and built again. Everyone is tired and digging deep to make the necessary sail changes (and even a reef at one point!) slick and fast. Accompanied by spectacular phosphorescence, which lights up atop the
welcome waves - and even the ominous forms of sharks - we have by turns inched and flown our way towards the last waypoint, Cape Town!
Our final position of second place has been hard-won; and the light-winds lottery which looked set to betray our efforts has not done so. The gods have been kind but here on BP Explorer we certainly feel like we deserve it. Each and every crew member has given their all and David, the watch leaders and our navigators have made great tactical calls throughout these final tense hours. Finally we are here and boy it feels good! It is an experience none of us will ever forget. How do we feel? ELATED one and all!
Naomi Cudmore
Showing posts with label Leg4. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Leg4. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 5, 2005
Monday, April 4, 2005
35o41S 21o46E
With any luck, if the Gods are with us, we have about 24 hours to go. That said there is a good chance that the favourable winds that should carry us to within sight of Cape Town might die as we approach, leaving us wallowing in a windless sea. The good news is that we have caught up with Spirit of Sark once more and can see them on the horizon about five miles away.
Imagine It. Done. is some 15 miles ahead of us. It is all getting very exciting. All around us are quite large waves, which mean that we are rolling around a lot making steering and controlling (trimming) the kite very difficult. The helms have to fight the wheel and there are some spectacular boom dips, which send the snake pit crew lurching for the winches to protect us if it escalates into a broach. The important thing for us is to not look necessarily at how to go even faster but to make sure we don't do something wrong and damage something thus throwing away all we've done in the last weeks. Through all this, David and the watch leaders are the epitome of total calm and laugh and joke with the rest of the crew whenever they can. Yeah right! I'm sure anyone reading this is not going to fall for a tale as tall as the poo in a bucket one of a few days ago. They are less than calm because they know that when there is only five miles separating us and second place and a further ten for first, a one knot difference in boat speed is a massive advantage and one cock up total disaster.
Another layer, if not most of our layers, has been removed and it's down to shorts and t-shirts on deck. The skies are clear but for a few wispy clouds and the sea, for the first time that I can recall, is a jade green rather than the deep blue we've seen for most of the voyage. I don't know why, it just is. There is, a last, some would say desperate, hunt for any goodies/treats before the end of the leg and such things become plentiful again and the market for trading disappears. This will be my last log for this leg and, as is customary, I'd just like to thank everyone for their support and complements regarding my often-rushed efforts. Stay tuned for Naomi's log tomorrow and the continued exploits of the BP Ocean Racing Team on the next leg - Cape Town to Boston.
John Stewart would like to add some birthday greetings to Maura and Kevin. Happy Birthday, I'm sure he'll be having a few beers in your honour tomorrow - we hope.
John Bass
Imagine It. Done. is some 15 miles ahead of us. It is all getting very exciting. All around us are quite large waves, which mean that we are rolling around a lot making steering and controlling (trimming) the kite very difficult. The helms have to fight the wheel and there are some spectacular boom dips, which send the snake pit crew lurching for the winches to protect us if it escalates into a broach. The important thing for us is to not look necessarily at how to go even faster but to make sure we don't do something wrong and damage something thus throwing away all we've done in the last weeks. Through all this, David and the watch leaders are the epitome of total calm and laugh and joke with the rest of the crew whenever they can. Yeah right! I'm sure anyone reading this is not going to fall for a tale as tall as the poo in a bucket one of a few days ago. They are less than calm because they know that when there is only five miles separating us and second place and a further ten for first, a one knot difference in boat speed is a massive advantage and one cock up total disaster.
Another layer, if not most of our layers, has been removed and it's down to shorts and t-shirts on deck. The skies are clear but for a few wispy clouds and the sea, for the first time that I can recall, is a jade green rather than the deep blue we've seen for most of the voyage. I don't know why, it just is. There is, a last, some would say desperate, hunt for any goodies/treats before the end of the leg and such things become plentiful again and the market for trading disappears. This will be my last log for this leg and, as is customary, I'd just like to thank everyone for their support and complements regarding my often-rushed efforts. Stay tuned for Naomi's log tomorrow and the continued exploits of the BP Ocean Racing Team on the next leg - Cape Town to Boston.
John Stewart would like to add some birthday greetings to Maura and Kevin. Happy Birthday, I'm sure he'll be having a few beers in your honour tomorrow - we hope.
John Bass
Sunday, April 3, 2005
36 52 S 26 42 E
As we emerged on deck last night, we were greeted with a spectacular starry display punctuated by the unblinking beacon of Venus. The moon not yet up, the southern-hemisphere constellations decorated our perfect canopy with a blaze of light, casting their own white star-paths on the water. There is nothing quite as lovely as helming in a fair wind with a star as your guide; it beats the red gloaming of the compass which we have followed through the endless greys of the dark latitudes hands down. Unfortunately, however, the stars have been more like a kaleidoscope on a slow spin than the source of any 'ever-fixed mark' during the past night - as our track on the MaxSea will testify. We have been labouring in swirling, feather-light puffs of breeze and cursing a strong Agulhas current coming towards us. Together, these factors have resulted in the quite demoralising sight of minus-speeds towards the waypoint lit up on the instruments in front of the wheel. We have drawn a picture not dissimilar to the outline of England minus the West Country and East Anglia in a ragged and circuitous red line on the chart (see picture)! Yesterday we ended a 24-hour run having travelled 240 miles; by comparison, over the last 6-hour session we sliced just 2.6 miles off our distance to waypoint. Most of us have temporarily stopped plaguing Andrew and Stephen for an ETA, which at this speed will be some time next Christmas.
As we ooo'd and aaah'd at an incredible moonrise come one in the morning, things did not improve. But there is no denying that this was a beautiful sight. Like a wedge of Edam cheese melting around the edges, the yellow moon slid, sylph-like, up out of the sharp black horizon, lying on it's side in a sleepy man-in-the-moon pose as it took up it's rightful place in the sky and stole brilliance from all the stars around it. Even better than the moon though was the pinprick light which, after some debate, we were soon able to identify out to the west, also just on the horizon. Some thought it impossible given our glacially-slow progress, but the navigation light of Spirit of Sark it could only be. It got our hearts racing and all of us running up and down the companionway to check if the latest scheds had come in yet. Finally, after a cruel delay, they arrived and confirmed our hopes - just in front of us, at four-and-a-half miles distant, there they were!
Sadly, our pleasure was to prove as short-lived as a meagre boat ration of chocolate. As Cop's watch came on deck at two, they joined in our elation and took over the onerous task of trying desperately to get BP Explorer going and escape the useless slap of still water on her hull. But, inch by inch, Spirit of Sark slipped away on a stolen breeze. This morning's scheds show them once again over ten miles away. Meanwhile, with the lightweight kite up, we wade as if through mud to try to reach her. The battle of the bog-doors-on versus the bog-doors-off goes, and on.
On which, happier note I would like to point out that any of you who are worried about our sanitary well-being in the wake of Friday's log might like to check the date on which it was written! We are, in fact, still delighting in the dubious pleasures of plenty of Kimberley-Clarke public-toilet-style loo roll AND fully-functioning heads.
And on a personal but important front I would like to wish my brother Tom a VERY Happy Birthday. With lots of love and hugs Tommy. I will see you in La Rochelle. Xxx
Naomi Cudmore
As we ooo'd and aaah'd at an incredible moonrise come one in the morning, things did not improve. But there is no denying that this was a beautiful sight. Like a wedge of Edam cheese melting around the edges, the yellow moon slid, sylph-like, up out of the sharp black horizon, lying on it's side in a sleepy man-in-the-moon pose as it took up it's rightful place in the sky and stole brilliance from all the stars around it. Even better than the moon though was the pinprick light which, after some debate, we were soon able to identify out to the west, also just on the horizon. Some thought it impossible given our glacially-slow progress, but the navigation light of Spirit of Sark it could only be. It got our hearts racing and all of us running up and down the companionway to check if the latest scheds had come in yet. Finally, after a cruel delay, they arrived and confirmed our hopes - just in front of us, at four-and-a-half miles distant, there they were!
Sadly, our pleasure was to prove as short-lived as a meagre boat ration of chocolate. As Cop's watch came on deck at two, they joined in our elation and took over the onerous task of trying desperately to get BP Explorer going and escape the useless slap of still water on her hull. But, inch by inch, Spirit of Sark slipped away on a stolen breeze. This morning's scheds show them once again over ten miles away. Meanwhile, with the lightweight kite up, we wade as if through mud to try to reach her. The battle of the bog-doors-on versus the bog-doors-off goes, and on.
On which, happier note I would like to point out that any of you who are worried about our sanitary well-being in the wake of Friday's log might like to check the date on which it was written! We are, in fact, still delighting in the dubious pleasures of plenty of Kimberley-Clarke public-toilet-style loo roll AND fully-functioning heads.
And on a personal but important front I would like to wish my brother Tom a VERY Happy Birthday. With lots of love and hugs Tommy. I will see you in La Rochelle. Xxx
Naomi Cudmore
Saturday, April 2, 2005
37' 07S 27' 12E
Holes! Some as tiny as your fingernail others bigger, that's what we are looking for and dreading. It's spinnaker weather on BP Explorer and every time we hoist we scan the kite for any damage. To be able to fly in light winds the spinnakers are made of a very light nylon similar to the material used in the pack-away rain jackets you get from camping shops. This makes them very susceptible to damage especially if they wrap around some of the rigging or catch on something as they're dropped. The winds are a bit fluky at the moment so that means a lot of hoists and drops. The ones at night are the most worrying. The nights are very dark when there is no moon and everything is checked and re-checked to make sure there are no costly mistakes. When it is hoisted torches sweep over it like search lights during the blitz. When the slightest of holes is spotted we drop and hoist another kite in its place and fix the hole before it gets any bigger. Extra care during these procedures can mean gained miles on yachts that are not so diligent and have had something go wrong - often the only advantage you can get. We have been gaining steadily on Imagine It. Done. during the times when the spinnaker is up and we hope that this may be a weakness in their sailing that we can exploit. Spirit of Sark are more elusive and are pretty much holding their distance between us, they are also gaining on Imagine It. Done. Today has been very hectic and before the end of it we'll have probably hoisted all our kites and the headsails. The sun shines on deck and we are down to green mid-layer bottoms and long sleeved shirts, though in the shade a jacket is needed. Below, the flatter sea means showers and a chance to clean off the last few weeks grime. The thick Mountain Equipment sleeping bags have been replaced with just a thermal liner and maybe thermals though most of us are now down to the minimum (just enough to keep our mystique you understand). Major Malhi gave us another one of his inspirational speeches today and although we tease him over his 'football manager' style what he says is spot on. "We deserve a win because every one of us has put the 100% effort in what is the most difficult leg of the race," he said. "What we have to do now is hold it together and find that extra 1% for the last few days".
Squid are proving something of a hazard and they seem to be firing themselves onto the deck in large numbers. Such is the risk of injury to the helm they have taken to wearing riot police type helmets as protection. Just when you think you've seen everything in this race something else slaps you in the face - quite literally.
John Bass
Squid are proving something of a hazard and they seem to be firing themselves onto the deck in large numbers. Such is the risk of injury to the helm they have taken to wearing riot police type helmets as protection. Just when you think you've seen everything in this race something else slaps you in the face - quite literally.
John Bass
Friday, April 1, 2005
38' 36S 32' 50E
The whole of March spent at sea, almost 6,000 miles sailed and just 740 miles to Cape Town! We celebrated all of this, plus the fact that we have now officially left the Southern Ocean and the Roaring Forties behind us, with that elusive bottle of Jura which we yesterday found safely wedged in the box of toilet roll. (And, unlike Spirit of Sark, we are lucky enough not to have any shortage of that.)
On which note, it has to be said that although we are in pretty good spirits above decks - we have pulled away from those behind us and second place is there for the taking just 12 miles in front - the same cannot be said for life 'downstairs'. Here we have been having a pretty crap time of it (excuse the language). On starboard tack, it has for some time been impossible to use the starboard head (the one on the high side), because it back-pumps and presents the user with a nasty surprise about 30 seconds after use. This has never before been a problem, however. We have grown accustomed to long queues to use the bathroom but the simple solution has just been to only use the low-side head when on starboard tack. Unfortunately, yesterday, one of the beefier men among the crew (no names mentioned, and it was not their fault anyway!) was quietly sitting wedged in the port head when a massive wave hit. They clearly had not wedged themselves in tightly enough though, and flew up into the air (otherwise known in the trade as a 'heads bronco'). They landed back down on the toilet with such a thump that they completely cracked the bowl, thus rendering the port head totally unusable. As everyone knows, David takes his racing seriously and he refuses to tack the boat at intervals to enable us all to go to the loo, so whilst on starboard tack we have only one choice. Our safety rules include an absolute ban on relieving oneself over the side, thus we have now installed a bucket in the port head.
Use of the bucket is not a lot of fun! For a start it is not a very sturdy bucket, the handle came off weeks ago and it just has a rope as a carrying device. Short of someone being landed with the horrible job of emptying other people's offerings, the only option is for each and every crew member is to empty the bucket each and every time. The boat is beginning to smell. very, very badly. Wet, five-week-old socks have a note of bluebells and an English spring about them by comparison. We are not celebrities but, as we screamed out at our first passing ship late last night, 'please, PLEASE - GET US OUT OF HERE!'
Naomi Cudmore
On which note, it has to be said that although we are in pretty good spirits above decks - we have pulled away from those behind us and second place is there for the taking just 12 miles in front - the same cannot be said for life 'downstairs'. Here we have been having a pretty crap time of it (excuse the language). On starboard tack, it has for some time been impossible to use the starboard head (the one on the high side), because it back-pumps and presents the user with a nasty surprise about 30 seconds after use. This has never before been a problem, however. We have grown accustomed to long queues to use the bathroom but the simple solution has just been to only use the low-side head when on starboard tack. Unfortunately, yesterday, one of the beefier men among the crew (no names mentioned, and it was not their fault anyway!) was quietly sitting wedged in the port head when a massive wave hit. They clearly had not wedged themselves in tightly enough though, and flew up into the air (otherwise known in the trade as a 'heads bronco'). They landed back down on the toilet with such a thump that they completely cracked the bowl, thus rendering the port head totally unusable. As everyone knows, David takes his racing seriously and he refuses to tack the boat at intervals to enable us all to go to the loo, so whilst on starboard tack we have only one choice. Our safety rules include an absolute ban on relieving oneself over the side, thus we have now installed a bucket in the port head.
Use of the bucket is not a lot of fun! For a start it is not a very sturdy bucket, the handle came off weeks ago and it just has a rope as a carrying device. Short of someone being landed with the horrible job of emptying other people's offerings, the only option is for each and every crew member is to empty the bucket each and every time. The boat is beginning to smell. very, very badly. Wet, five-week-old socks have a note of bluebells and an English spring about them by comparison. We are not celebrities but, as we screamed out at our first passing ship late last night, 'please, PLEASE - GET US OUT OF HERE!'
Naomi Cudmore
Thursday, March 31, 2005
39o50S 35o14E
It's dragging on a bit now! Four and a half weeks at sea is long enough in my book and I think everyone is looking forward to getting in. The hot chocolate has run out as has the mayonnaise, the peanut butter and most of the treats - all those things that brought a little ray of sunshine into a cold damp yacht. When you first set out it would be self destructive to think of the end, or the last days, of the leg. But, as we enter the last five days or so you can't help it. When you have five days to go a change in the weather (meaning lighter winds) can effectively double the estimated time of arrival so there is a much more instant reaction to such information. The arrival of the position reports also has a more significant effect as we realise there is less and less time to make miles. Position wise, we'd be happy for the race to end now. We would have third place, a good position after so much heavy weather sailing, and we'd be in the lead overall with two points separating us and Spirit of Sark in second place in the leg and overall. BG SPIRIT are well back in the fleet and so would loose their overall first position and the three point lead they currently enjoy. But, as we witnessed, and benefited from, in leg two, anything can happen, regardless of how safe you think your position is. If Spirit of Sark passes Imagine It. Done. and we don't, only one point will separate us overall and that's providing Pindar and Team Stelmar don't get past us. These are the things that up the stress levels in the last few days. The weather is looking ok and has, so far, followed forecasts. Last night we had about 15 knots with heavy squalls topping out at 40 knots. We watch for these on the radar and they show up as bright yellow areas on the screen. The squalls are large rain clouds, often in the middle of an area of clear skies that are dumping their cargo of rain. The rapid cooling of the air causes strong winds down and out from all sides of the clouds. Science aside it means you are happily sailing along with sails nicely trimmed and the on-the-rail conversation centring around the delights waiting for you in Cape Town. Suddenly, the wind changes, builds, builds and builds some more. We hold on tight and prepare to drop sails as rain blasts across the deck. Then it all goes quiet as we sit directly under the cloud. Then just when you think it's over the wind builds again, this time in the opposite direction, and you are blasted out the other side. The thought of first place is a tantalising possibility and we are giving 100% into getting the most out of BP Explorer. We are due for a win and it would be so sweet to get it on this, the most difficult leg. It will soon be over and we'd know for sure we'd done everything we could if our first beer was holding the leg winners trophy.
The email system has worked out it's bugs and is once again delivering messages from our friends and family again (I should add including several from my brother, thanks bro). John Stewart would just like me to point out that he is washing with baby wipes just not showering.
John Bass
The email system has worked out it's bugs and is once again delivering messages from our friends and family again (I should add including several from my brother, thanks bro). John Stewart would just like me to point out that he is washing with baby wipes just not showering.
John Bass
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
41' 55S 39' 27E
This time next week we will, hopefully, be busily dragging out the mooring lines and fenders which for the past five weeks have been consigned to the lazarette. (A storage locker at the aft of the yacht behind the wheel -Ed.) Very soon now we will be dropping the mainsail, donning our green t-shirts and, perhaps, the men will be scraping off their Southern Ocean beards before meeting their loved ones again (at least we hope so, for their sake!)
For now, though, we are ploughing into the beginnings of our final gale, which is set to build over the next 12 hours. We had a mini-gale yesterday, followed by a calm, so the sail-change teams have been making that trip up to the foredeck time and time again over the last 24 hours or so. Sleeping the sleep of the dead in between each tiring shift, we are counting down the hours to the arrival of some southerly winds which look set to take us screaming all the way to Cape Town with the kites up. Fingers crossed that we do not get caught in the notorious 'parking lot' in sight of Table Mountain, where windless bubbles often see yachts parked up and eeking their way inch by painful inch towards that longed-for pint. This said, if the familiar piece of bungee that is once again stretched between ourselves and Spirit of Sark does not make a decided pull in our direction soon, it may be that flukey winds and light airs could well work in our favour as we approach the finish. We are doing all we can to chip away at the distance between ourselves and the lead boats - not without some success - but as soon as we have picked away another couple of miles, they seem to pull away from us once again; Imagine it. Done. currently lying at a distance of 35 miles and Spirit of Sark just under half that at 16.5.
It is hard to think of any celebration now except the finish and hopefully a podium one), but we do have the 1,000-mile barrier to the waypoint to cheer about later today - truly the beginning of the end. Plus (if we can remember where we hid it), there is a bottle of Jura single malt to enjoy once we have left the Roaring Forties behind us for good; perhaps this will be a good time to reflect on just how far we have come and what we have achieved since our first tentative team training sail together last spring. It feels like a lifetime ago!
Naomi Cudmore
For now, though, we are ploughing into the beginnings of our final gale, which is set to build over the next 12 hours. We had a mini-gale yesterday, followed by a calm, so the sail-change teams have been making that trip up to the foredeck time and time again over the last 24 hours or so. Sleeping the sleep of the dead in between each tiring shift, we are counting down the hours to the arrival of some southerly winds which look set to take us screaming all the way to Cape Town with the kites up. Fingers crossed that we do not get caught in the notorious 'parking lot' in sight of Table Mountain, where windless bubbles often see yachts parked up and eeking their way inch by painful inch towards that longed-for pint. This said, if the familiar piece of bungee that is once again stretched between ourselves and Spirit of Sark does not make a decided pull in our direction soon, it may be that flukey winds and light airs could well work in our favour as we approach the finish. We are doing all we can to chip away at the distance between ourselves and the lead boats - not without some success - but as soon as we have picked away another couple of miles, they seem to pull away from us once again; Imagine it. Done. currently lying at a distance of 35 miles and Spirit of Sark just under half that at 16.5.
It is hard to think of any celebration now except the finish and hopefully a podium one), but we do have the 1,000-mile barrier to the waypoint to cheer about later today - truly the beginning of the end. Plus (if we can remember where we hid it), there is a bottle of Jura single malt to enjoy once we have left the Roaring Forties behind us for good; perhaps this will be a good time to reflect on just how far we have come and what we have achieved since our first tentative team training sail together last spring. It feels like a lifetime ago!
Naomi Cudmore
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
42o36S 42o02E
A battle is taking place out here at the moment, a royal battle between us and the two yachts in front of us, Spirit of Sark and Imagine It. Done. We are, in the main, looking forward but we still have to cover our rear from attack by Pindar and Team Stelmar who, if not in firing range, still have us in their long range sights. Every watch the trimmers at the shrouds check and re-check the trim and scan the horizon for a glimpse of our old enemy Spirit of Sark.
Analysis of the fleet positions show we are making gains on them and keeping our pursuers at bay but it is not enough, we want to see the whites of their eyes. We sailed into the predicted gale in the early hours of this morning and, with winds reaching 37 knots, the orange storm staysail and no 3 yankee were hoisted once more in anger. But, by midday today the winds have eased and the yellow staysail is back up. We are currently sailing in 20-24 knots and it's only a matter of time before we drop the three and go to the number two yankee. That said, there is still a lot of water coming over the deck and the occasional bone-shuddering crash as we leap some giant waves.
This log comes to you by Telaurus, a system whereby e-mails and voice calls are sent via the Iridium satellite system and is one of the many communications systems we have on BP Explorer. Unfortunately, today, the Telaurus e-mail system has gone down and we are left without e-mail for 3-6 hours. This would not normally present much of a problem however, we also use the same system to receive weather updates and fleet positions. That e-mail to auntie telling of her brave nephew's exploits on the high seas can wait but 3-6 hours is a long time in ocean yacht-racing and not knowing what the other yachts are doing or if a weather system is moving is quite frustrating. (All Telaurus systems are now back up and running! - Ed)
Thankfully it doesn't happen that often and all things considered it's pretty remarkable that we can be in the remotest and most inhospitable place on Earth and send that e-mail to auntie, indeed, we could even pick up the phone and call her. It is also a real treat when we receive e-mails of news from home or messages of support from our friends and family. So if you read this and haven't sent a message recently, go on, it'll make our day (This is specifically a hint to my little brother Stephen who hasn't e-mailed me in ages).
PS. Those following John Stewart's record attempt for the longest time without a shower will be interested to know that he is on day 31 (he basically hasn't had a shower since we left!) However he hasn't broken his record of 37 days yet.
John Bass
Analysis of the fleet positions show we are making gains on them and keeping our pursuers at bay but it is not enough, we want to see the whites of their eyes. We sailed into the predicted gale in the early hours of this morning and, with winds reaching 37 knots, the orange storm staysail and no 3 yankee were hoisted once more in anger. But, by midday today the winds have eased and the yellow staysail is back up. We are currently sailing in 20-24 knots and it's only a matter of time before we drop the three and go to the number two yankee. That said, there is still a lot of water coming over the deck and the occasional bone-shuddering crash as we leap some giant waves.
This log comes to you by Telaurus, a system whereby e-mails and voice calls are sent via the Iridium satellite system and is one of the many communications systems we have on BP Explorer. Unfortunately, today, the Telaurus e-mail system has gone down and we are left without e-mail for 3-6 hours. This would not normally present much of a problem however, we also use the same system to receive weather updates and fleet positions. That e-mail to auntie telling of her brave nephew's exploits on the high seas can wait but 3-6 hours is a long time in ocean yacht-racing and not knowing what the other yachts are doing or if a weather system is moving is quite frustrating. (All Telaurus systems are now back up and running! - Ed)
Thankfully it doesn't happen that often and all things considered it's pretty remarkable that we can be in the remotest and most inhospitable place on Earth and send that e-mail to auntie, indeed, we could even pick up the phone and call her. It is also a real treat when we receive e-mails of news from home or messages of support from our friends and family. So if you read this and haven't sent a message recently, go on, it'll make our day (This is specifically a hint to my little brother Stephen who hasn't e-mailed me in ages).
PS. Those following John Stewart's record attempt for the longest time without a shower will be interested to know that he is on day 31 (he basically hasn't had a shower since we left!) However he hasn't broken his record of 37 days yet.
John Bass
Monday, March 28, 2005
44o42S 46o19E
The last 24 hours have been pretty eventful on the BP Explorer scale it has to be said; as we approach what will hopefully transpire to be our last big gale of the leg (expected in the next day or so), we can celebrate breaking the 1,500-mile-to-Cape-Town barrier! Not only that, but last night's googah was followed by a spectacular wildlife display which more than made up for the bleak and empty water canvas which we have gazed upon for the last month. Until now its surface has been broken only by its own tempestuous waves, a couple of seals and an awful lot of kelp. As it turns out, however, there is life around us after all.
As Cop's watch exited the companionway for the 6-10 watch yesterday, they spied a whale some distance from the boat, repeatedly surfacing and diving at breakneck speed. As we all piled on deck to watch, the whale disobligingly exited the scene and we all trooped back downstairs to prepare for our bunks. Within minutes, however, a chorus of whoops and ooohs and ahhs drew us back on deck; there, literally right next to the boat to starboard, was a 40-foot sleek, grey form accompanying us effortlessly towards a misty sunset (these measurements have been verified by those with better spatial awareness than myself!). Within minutes there were two, and they re-appeaared time and time again, their heads rearing up through the grey waves to reveal a white underside, before they arched back below the surface once again, showing the small, upright pointed fins near their tails which have helped us to identify them as Sei whales (or, if not, then Fins).
The two Seis stayed close for quite a while, but they were undoubtedly in a rush. Like us, they had clearly decided not to hang around the Crozet Islands which now lie in our wake and slightly to the south of us. It seems like a sensible decision; the five islands and two reefs which make up the French-owned-and-occupied archipelago do not sound tempting! Characterised by cold, wet and cloudy weather, the islands endure rain for 300 days of the year, temperatures not exceeding 18°C and winds in excess of 100Km/Hr almost every third day. The 35 inhabitants who now live there are served by a Post Office, a church, a research station and memories concentrated largely on sealing on an immense scale and countless shipwrecks. A potted history of the islands makes interesting reading, but if our motley crew is going to get stranded anywhere right now it had better be in a Cape Town bar and nowhere else! We are on our way.
Naomi Cudmore
As Cop's watch exited the companionway for the 6-10 watch yesterday, they spied a whale some distance from the boat, repeatedly surfacing and diving at breakneck speed. As we all piled on deck to watch, the whale disobligingly exited the scene and we all trooped back downstairs to prepare for our bunks. Within minutes, however, a chorus of whoops and ooohs and ahhs drew us back on deck; there, literally right next to the boat to starboard, was a 40-foot sleek, grey form accompanying us effortlessly towards a misty sunset (these measurements have been verified by those with better spatial awareness than myself!). Within minutes there were two, and they re-appeaared time and time again, their heads rearing up through the grey waves to reveal a white underside, before they arched back below the surface once again, showing the small, upright pointed fins near their tails which have helped us to identify them as Sei whales (or, if not, then Fins).
The two Seis stayed close for quite a while, but they were undoubtedly in a rush. Like us, they had clearly decided not to hang around the Crozet Islands which now lie in our wake and slightly to the south of us. It seems like a sensible decision; the five islands and two reefs which make up the French-owned-and-occupied archipelago do not sound tempting! Characterised by cold, wet and cloudy weather, the islands endure rain for 300 days of the year, temperatures not exceeding 18°C and winds in excess of 100Km/Hr almost every third day. The 35 inhabitants who now live there are served by a Post Office, a church, a research station and memories concentrated largely on sealing on an immense scale and countless shipwrecks. A potted history of the islands makes interesting reading, but if our motley crew is going to get stranded anywhere right now it had better be in a Cape Town bar and nowhere else! We are on our way.
Naomi Cudmore
Sunday, March 27, 2005
44' 56S 50' 26E
Happy Easter everybody! Unfortunately no long weekend holiday for the crew of BP Explorer. We suggested to David that it was an official bank holiday at home and that even the DIY stores would not be open but he was unrelenting so we soldier on. As it happens we have been the fastest boat over the last six hours averaging 9.6 knots and are making some impact on the general positions up front. The gains really are quite small in the last 24 hours though, as least smaller than we'd like. We have taken two miles out of Imagine It. Done but nothing out of Spirit of Sark who seem to be matching our efforts almost mile by mile. We have however, taken nine miles from Pindar and Team Stelmar but we are far from safe yet. Better news is the expanding gap between BG Spirit and us to get a good overall points result for this leg we need plenty of boats separating us so every mile added is a good one.
By the end of today we should have passed the Crozet Islands which are about 70 miles to the South of us, then it's only 1600 miles to Cape Town. The first of the layers has been shed as the temperatures, even at night, have got a bit warmer. During the day there is even some sunshine and the sunglasses are being dug out from deep within our Curver boxes in recognition of this fact. Yesterday we had the spinnakers out again and we flattened out but as I write this log the wind has come forward again and we are back to the familiar yellow sails and 28 degrees of heel. We are set to keep this point of sail for the next 24 hours. Giles Mackey, on Cops watch, has been doing an excellent job of picture taking however; it has highlighted a strange fact. It would seem that most of the fellas on Olly's watch are clean-shaven while those on Cop's have a fine thatch of facial hair. John Stewart claims it's because their watch are more macho, we are convinced that they are a bit shy of getting their chins cold. It is often the best indicator of whether someone has seized the opportunity, in the calm conditions, to take a shower. A possible explanation is that John is trying to beat his current record of over three weeks between soakings and has encouraged his watch to do the same. The exceptions are Stephen Allberry on Olly's watch with his wizard-like beard and Cop who is as smooth as a baby's bum. We have celebrated Easter in the customary fashion of chocolate Easter eggs and chocolate bunnies but I'm not convinced they were delivered by the enormous Albatross, with the eleven-metre wingspan, as mentioned in Naomi's log yesterday. She did, I'm sure, mean eleven feet. However, when it comes to Albatross delivering chocolate eggs to Challenge racing yachts why let facts get in the way of a good story.
John Bass
By the end of today we should have passed the Crozet Islands which are about 70 miles to the South of us, then it's only 1600 miles to Cape Town. The first of the layers has been shed as the temperatures, even at night, have got a bit warmer. During the day there is even some sunshine and the sunglasses are being dug out from deep within our Curver boxes in recognition of this fact. Yesterday we had the spinnakers out again and we flattened out but as I write this log the wind has come forward again and we are back to the familiar yellow sails and 28 degrees of heel. We are set to keep this point of sail for the next 24 hours. Giles Mackey, on Cops watch, has been doing an excellent job of picture taking however; it has highlighted a strange fact. It would seem that most of the fellas on Olly's watch are clean-shaven while those on Cop's have a fine thatch of facial hair. John Stewart claims it's because their watch are more macho, we are convinced that they are a bit shy of getting their chins cold. It is often the best indicator of whether someone has seized the opportunity, in the calm conditions, to take a shower. A possible explanation is that John is trying to beat his current record of over three weeks between soakings and has encouraged his watch to do the same. The exceptions are Stephen Allberry on Olly's watch with his wizard-like beard and Cop who is as smooth as a baby's bum. We have celebrated Easter in the customary fashion of chocolate Easter eggs and chocolate bunnies but I'm not convinced they were delivered by the enormous Albatross, with the eleven-metre wingspan, as mentioned in Naomi's log yesterday. She did, I'm sure, mean eleven feet. However, when it comes to Albatross delivering chocolate eggs to Challenge racing yachts why let facts get in the way of a good story.
John Bass
Saturday, March 26, 2005
45 35S 55' 35E
Well, the message in a bottle which we sent off over the waves a couple of days ago has failed to turn up any new friends as yet. We remain as an island in this solitary sea - and not a soul have we spied on the horizon for what seems like a year! Our constant companion, however, is the wandering albatross who paints dark curves and hoops with the shadows of his fine wingtips upon the chameleon surfaces of the ocean. Our journey, however protracted, is as nothing compared to the epic seven to ten years that an albatross may remain at sea after leaving the nest. Mating for life, greying with age until the dark-brown feathers of his infancy turn the ancient white of a snow-filled sky, the albatross is the sailor's friend with a remarkable memory - returning, when he finally regains terra firma, to the island where he was born.
Here he will search for that special mate and take part in a unique and complex courtship dance, strutting gawkishly around the female as she returns the compliment and the pair bob and rattle their bills, with their eleven-metre wingspan shown off for all to see. Once the performance is over there is a general pointing of beaks in the direction of the heavens and a jubilant screaming match! Faithful parenting from both birds is required; they produce just a single precious chick every one to three years, and should one parent perish, the offspring will almost certainly die. They feed mainly on squid, octopus and cuttlefish, and will also make shallow dives for fish too - although other favourites include the galley rejects from passing vessels - a fact which has not gone unnoticed aboard BP Explorer!
Here on the pea-green boat we are very fond of our stunning winged companions - they light up the worst of any Southern Ocean day and still seem impressively huge however often they put in an appearance. So we would not dream of harming one. This is just as well, for according to folklore it was the albatross who bore the souls of dead mariners across the briny deep, and bad luck would plague any sailor who killed one for the rest of his days. For now, we hope that the only real use the albatross will play in our own epic trek is perhaps a small delivery of chocolate eggs for us to feast upon tomorrow! This seems like a very good alternative to the traditional Easter delivery man - because as any seasoned salt will tell you, our furry friends with the sweet noses and flashing white tails are deemed decidedly bad luck on a boat! One should never even utter the 'R' word, let alone spy one hopping along the deck. (We are saying nothing about the same nautical beliefs that are attached to the appearance of the colour green!) Happy Easter to one and all back home!
Naomi Cudmore
Here he will search for that special mate and take part in a unique and complex courtship dance, strutting gawkishly around the female as she returns the compliment and the pair bob and rattle their bills, with their eleven-metre wingspan shown off for all to see. Once the performance is over there is a general pointing of beaks in the direction of the heavens and a jubilant screaming match! Faithful parenting from both birds is required; they produce just a single precious chick every one to three years, and should one parent perish, the offspring will almost certainly die. They feed mainly on squid, octopus and cuttlefish, and will also make shallow dives for fish too - although other favourites include the galley rejects from passing vessels - a fact which has not gone unnoticed aboard BP Explorer!
Here on the pea-green boat we are very fond of our stunning winged companions - they light up the worst of any Southern Ocean day and still seem impressively huge however often they put in an appearance. So we would not dream of harming one. This is just as well, for according to folklore it was the albatross who bore the souls of dead mariners across the briny deep, and bad luck would plague any sailor who killed one for the rest of his days. For now, we hope that the only real use the albatross will play in our own epic trek is perhaps a small delivery of chocolate eggs for us to feast upon tomorrow! This seems like a very good alternative to the traditional Easter delivery man - because as any seasoned salt will tell you, our furry friends with the sweet noses and flashing white tails are deemed decidedly bad luck on a boat! One should never even utter the 'R' word, let alone spy one hopping along the deck. (We are saying nothing about the same nautical beliefs that are attached to the appearance of the colour green!) Happy Easter to one and all back home!
Naomi Cudmore
Friday, March 25, 2005
46 42 S 59 35 E
Dead calm! As we came on watch yesterday at 6pm the sea was like glass. Not quite the flat glass of a secluded lake but more the gentle rippled variety you might have in your bathroom window. The sky was blue and the sun was shining but it was still brisk - somewhere between a bit chilly and blimey! It's a bit brass monkeys out here. There was a little wind, gentle puffs of about 5 knots, but we could see more coming. Cops' watch said it had been much worse and they had experienced patches of no wind at all. At one point they went backwards, something we are becoming quite practised at recently. It begs the question if we are going backwards in a round the world yacht race that says it's going the wrong way, are we going the right way during these brief moments? The navigators suggest we ae not. As we sat huddled on the low side we watched as the puffs gradually got bigger and more frequent and pretty soon BP Explorer began to pull at her harnesses and lurch forward. The grip tightened on the helm and there was a sigh of relief, we were going again. We thought about the Genoa a couple of times and she was unflatteringly winched out of the sail locker and through the hatch like a fat lady being pulled out of a well. But as the wind rose she was left on deck and we stayed with the no 1 yankee. We were glad we waited because before long we were screaming along at 9 knots in 18 knots of wind and, by the end of the watch, we were thinking of putting up the number two. As usual the position reports are unlikely to be good reading after a slow afternoon and they showed that we'd lost ground to Imagine It. Done. but the damage wasn't as great with Spirit of Sark. We are finding it difficult at the moment to grapple miles off of the two leaders but we are hoping that by focusing on trimming and helming well an opportunity will present itself.
The boat has been rippling with reports of strange dreams this week and the on-deck conversations are strange to say the least. This leg has seen less sail changes than the previous southern ocean leg and as such there is a lot more conversation and suggested talking points to fill the time. The latest has proved both fun and somewhat frustrating. We have been trying to remember the theme tunes to TV shows. We belted them out one after another to start with but there are now fewer and fewer and we are suffering from brains full of 70s comedy and cop shows. Worse still there are a few shows that we nearly have but not quite. Like having the birdie song trapped in your head - a slow descent into madness is sure to follow.
John Bass
The boat has been rippling with reports of strange dreams this week and the on-deck conversations are strange to say the least. This leg has seen less sail changes than the previous southern ocean leg and as such there is a lot more conversation and suggested talking points to fill the time. The latest has proved both fun and somewhat frustrating. We have been trying to remember the theme tunes to TV shows. We belted them out one after another to start with but there are now fewer and fewer and we are suffering from brains full of 70s comedy and cop shows. Worse still there are a few shows that we nearly have but not quite. Like having the birdie song trapped in your head - a slow descent into madness is sure to follow.
John Bass
Thursday, March 24, 2005
47 09 S 63 13 E
These are just some of the figures that define Day 26 of Leg Four:
19,401 (miles sailed since Portsmouth)
36 (the number of times we will have to get out of bed before the finish of this leg)
3 (the maximum number of showers enjoyed by each crew member in the last month),
4,891 (miles since the last pint),
915,840 (approximate number of waves crossed since Portsmouth),
2,147 (miles to the next pint),
190,800 (times that the heads have been pumped on the race so far),
and 15 (the number of mouthfuls it takes Cop to consume a cheesecake intended to serve 9).
And so our progress across the big blue is measured - the race involves a great deal of number-crunching as any seasoned sailor will tell you, and Cop's incredible capacity for fuel is no exception. Indeed, it is directly related to our performance!
Of course, another figure for the day is 9 (the number of Challenge yachts behind us). We would far rather this were 11, but according to our calculations, if everyone finished in their current positions, we would lie in first overall - which is not half bad. But the racing on this Global Challenge has been closer than ever before and no doubt final positions - quite possibly even podium places - will be decided on the last leg. So BP Explorer really could do with a few points extra in the bag and a leg win.
This morning's unpromising graveyard-hours start of cold drizzle and a moonless sky gave way, grudgingly, to a lovely dawn of muted gold, green and turquoise - and there is certainly a great deal more colour in our world than we have enjoyed over the past few weeks. Unfortunately, however, today's pretty heavens also presaged very light winds, so we can only pray that Spirit of Sark and Imagine It. Done. are suffering the same fate right now. After our mysterious loss of form which culminated in our blind backwards-sailing kelp attack, we seem capable of holding our own once again and are back in that familiar territory of a mile gained here, a mile lost there. So we keep plugging away, eyes glued to the fickle weather and the oh-so-slowly diminishing distance to waypoint. At least for us the slogan is true - 'We ARE getting there!'
Naomi Cudmore
19,401 (miles sailed since Portsmouth)
36 (the number of times we will have to get out of bed before the finish of this leg)
3 (the maximum number of showers enjoyed by each crew member in the last month),
4,891 (miles since the last pint),
915,840 (approximate number of waves crossed since Portsmouth),
2,147 (miles to the next pint),
190,800 (times that the heads have been pumped on the race so far),
and 15 (the number of mouthfuls it takes Cop to consume a cheesecake intended to serve 9).
And so our progress across the big blue is measured - the race involves a great deal of number-crunching as any seasoned sailor will tell you, and Cop's incredible capacity for fuel is no exception. Indeed, it is directly related to our performance!
Of course, another figure for the day is 9 (the number of Challenge yachts behind us). We would far rather this were 11, but according to our calculations, if everyone finished in their current positions, we would lie in first overall - which is not half bad. But the racing on this Global Challenge has been closer than ever before and no doubt final positions - quite possibly even podium places - will be decided on the last leg. So BP Explorer really could do with a few points extra in the bag and a leg win.
This morning's unpromising graveyard-hours start of cold drizzle and a moonless sky gave way, grudgingly, to a lovely dawn of muted gold, green and turquoise - and there is certainly a great deal more colour in our world than we have enjoyed over the past few weeks. Unfortunately, however, today's pretty heavens also presaged very light winds, so we can only pray that Spirit of Sark and Imagine It. Done. are suffering the same fate right now. After our mysterious loss of form which culminated in our blind backwards-sailing kelp attack, we seem capable of holding our own once again and are back in that familiar territory of a mile gained here, a mile lost there. So we keep plugging away, eyes glued to the fickle weather and the oh-so-slowly diminishing distance to waypoint. At least for us the slogan is true - 'We ARE getting there!'
Naomi Cudmore
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
47o15S 66o07E
Finally! Waypoint Bravo and the Kerguelen Islands disappear in our wake.
Things didn't quite go to plan but then we did have an uneasy feeling that things might not go our way for the whole leg. All in all it's not too bad, third is still a good position within the fleet and with some 2266 miles to go we have plenty of time to catch up and reacquire our lead. Spirit of Sark and Imagine It. Done. are about 20 miles in front and we now have someone to chase - always good for moral and the preservation of our fighting spirit. Talking of spirit, Joe and Warren smuggled onboard some surprise items to celebrate passing the waypoint. They thought it would be appropriate to bring something from as far north that they could find to mark being as far south as they had ever been. Warren came up with a litre bottle of Highland Park whisky, distilled in the most northern distillery on the Orkney Islands of Scotland. Joe produced 2.2 pounds of the finest Alaskan smoked salmon. There was certainly a party mood among the crew as they came off watch and dined on easily the finest food and drink we've had in the race so far. This morning the skies cleared and the sun shone. The now familiar yellow foulies were, for once, left in the locker as we went on deck in just our green mid-layers. For the first time in 3500 miles we had the spinnakers up, first the promo kite then the flanker. But, as the wind started to rise and the afternoon watch came on deck the flanker was dropped and we once again returned to the headsails. We've been racing along at over 10 knots but the Sun had now retreated behind its blanket of grey cloud and we have donned our foulies once more. More Dolphins have joined us but this time they are of the black and white variety and our ever-present companions of several Albatross, Shearwaters and a small flock of other sea birds swoop and glide behind us. Naomi got very excited last night when she saw an aeroplane. "It's just nice to see other people" she said. David borrowed my state of the art razor handle today (It vibrates!) and, arriving at my bunk clean shaven, was clearly overjoyed with the results. It really is the simple things out here you know, we're not going mad - honest!
John Bass
Things didn't quite go to plan but then we did have an uneasy feeling that things might not go our way for the whole leg. All in all it's not too bad, third is still a good position within the fleet and with some 2266 miles to go we have plenty of time to catch up and reacquire our lead. Spirit of Sark and Imagine It. Done. are about 20 miles in front and we now have someone to chase - always good for moral and the preservation of our fighting spirit. Talking of spirit, Joe and Warren smuggled onboard some surprise items to celebrate passing the waypoint. They thought it would be appropriate to bring something from as far north that they could find to mark being as far south as they had ever been. Warren came up with a litre bottle of Highland Park whisky, distilled in the most northern distillery on the Orkney Islands of Scotland. Joe produced 2.2 pounds of the finest Alaskan smoked salmon. There was certainly a party mood among the crew as they came off watch and dined on easily the finest food and drink we've had in the race so far. This morning the skies cleared and the sun shone. The now familiar yellow foulies were, for once, left in the locker as we went on deck in just our green mid-layers. For the first time in 3500 miles we had the spinnakers up, first the promo kite then the flanker. But, as the wind started to rise and the afternoon watch came on deck the flanker was dropped and we once again returned to the headsails. We've been racing along at over 10 knots but the Sun had now retreated behind its blanket of grey cloud and we have donned our foulies once more. More Dolphins have joined us but this time they are of the black and white variety and our ever-present companions of several Albatross, Shearwaters and a small flock of other sea birds swoop and glide behind us. Naomi got very excited last night when she saw an aeroplane. "It's just nice to see other people" she said. David borrowed my state of the art razor handle today (It vibrates!) and, arriving at my bunk clean shaven, was clearly overjoyed with the results. It really is the simple things out here you know, we're not going mad - honest!
John Bass
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
47o04S 71o49E
Why? Why? Why?
Everyone back at home must be wondering what on earth we are thinking of - hour by hour we have been losing ground to the rest of the fleet, and you would be forgiven for assuming that we have well and truly taken our eye off the ball. In fact, we are not holed away down below drinking rum and living it up; the pressure on deck has never been greater.
Just a few hours ago we rounded Waypoint Bravo in third - which is another of our objectives for the leg achieved (three cheers) - but the lead we held on to for so long has
slipped from our grasp. Well, the simple answer is that we are just as bewildered as our supporters must be by our apparent lack of form. We have been beating our brains, trying to work out what has been going wrong, and last night, with all other possibilities discounted, we decided to sail backwards for a while. Hove to, we attached the foreguy to the main and headed stern first for Australia. At the back of our minds had been the nagging suspicion that something was caught around the keel. There have been so many huge banks of kelp floating our way that this seemed a real possibility - and at night they are unavoidable. Whether or not there was anything there in need of dislodging time will tell, but for now David appears to be uninspired by the raft of treats which we will enjoy today in celebration of reaching the Kerguelen Islands.
At 6am boat time (1am GMT), the off-going watch was treated to a cooked breakfast of hash browns, beans, bacon and egg (dehydrated of course), all washed down with a drop of Jameson's, and later we have our champagne and crunchie bars. It is bittersweet though, we have to admit. We just cannot fathom it. Nothing has changed in terms of the way we do things, but we feel like we are trying to run through mud. At least the wakes of Spirit of Sark and Imagine It. Done. (7.5 and 15.9 miles in front respectively) give us a real goal to focus on. We had begun to suspect that the waypoint existed in some other dimension, so slow was it in coming; but we know for sure that they are out there and we are heading their way as fast as we can.
There are 2,497 miles to go to Cape Town and the fat lady is not singing yet!
Naomi Cudmore
Everyone back at home must be wondering what on earth we are thinking of - hour by hour we have been losing ground to the rest of the fleet, and you would be forgiven for assuming that we have well and truly taken our eye off the ball. In fact, we are not holed away down below drinking rum and living it up; the pressure on deck has never been greater.
Just a few hours ago we rounded Waypoint Bravo in third - which is another of our objectives for the leg achieved (three cheers) - but the lead we held on to for so long has
slipped from our grasp. Well, the simple answer is that we are just as bewildered as our supporters must be by our apparent lack of form. We have been beating our brains, trying to work out what has been going wrong, and last night, with all other possibilities discounted, we decided to sail backwards for a while. Hove to, we attached the foreguy to the main and headed stern first for Australia. At the back of our minds had been the nagging suspicion that something was caught around the keel. There have been so many huge banks of kelp floating our way that this seemed a real possibility - and at night they are unavoidable. Whether or not there was anything there in need of dislodging time will tell, but for now David appears to be uninspired by the raft of treats which we will enjoy today in celebration of reaching the Kerguelen Islands.
At 6am boat time (1am GMT), the off-going watch was treated to a cooked breakfast of hash browns, beans, bacon and egg (dehydrated of course), all washed down with a drop of Jameson's, and later we have our champagne and crunchie bars. It is bittersweet though, we have to admit. We just cannot fathom it. Nothing has changed in terms of the way we do things, but we feel like we are trying to run through mud. At least the wakes of Spirit of Sark and Imagine It. Done. (7.5 and 15.9 miles in front respectively) give us a real goal to focus on. We had begun to suspect that the waypoint existed in some other dimension, so slow was it in coming; but we know for sure that they are out there and we are heading their way as fast as we can.
There are 2,497 miles to go to Cape Town and the fat lady is not singing yet!
Naomi Cudmore
Monday, March 21, 2005
47' 49S 74' 51S
As we approach Waypoint Bravo, we are seeing more and more fragments of giant kelp, strands 20m long being swept eastwards by the Southern Ocean swell. This is a sure sign that we are passing to the leeward of the Kerguelen Islands, a small cluster of islands that straddle the Antarctic Convergence Zone. It's day 23 and we are 2,500 miles from Cape Town. The last couple of weeks have been non-stop gales of 30 - 45 knots and freezing temperatures. However so far, touch wood, we have not had a really scary Southern Ocean storm of 60 knots plus.
So, now that we are about two thirds of the way through our second Southern Ocean leg, how do some the crew feel about the experience so far? Despite, the cramped, cold and generally brutal conditions some of us are enjoying our Southern Ocean experience. As John Stewart put it, 'we didn't pay £27,000 to have a miserable time. We signed up to race around the world. The team camaraderie has been great and seeing things such as the Southern Lights in their full technicolor brilliance, pods of whales and the indescribable power and of the giant Southern Ocean rollers has made this adventure all the more worthwhile'.
For Goldie, this experience has left her with an overawing sense of the power of nature. Andrew, one of our helms agrees, 'helming has been truly exhilarating. We have been alternating the helms every 30 minutes, as there is a limit to how much cold, stinging spray and being knocked off your feet you can take. However, here I am, deep in the Southern Ocean steering a 72-foot racing yacht - I am living my dream!!'
Racing in the Southern Ocean is tough, but without that challenge none of us would have signed up. As Giles explains, 'There is little finesse to bashing into 40-foot waves; this leg is all about endurance and survival and so far we appear to be doing that quite well. However every so often, we climb a huge roller and surf down the other side at break neck speed. As we accelerate down the back of the wave I think, wow, this is awesome. I am one of the luckiest people alive!' Christian echoes these thoughts, 'when I am standing at the bow, it feels like I am on a different planet. The waves are incredible and should not be underestimated. Given a little respect, they let you pass and you feel like a conqueror'. The Southern Ocean is one of the wildest, untamed places on earth. It is the Mount Everest of sailing.
So hardship and sacrifice are part of the experience, but they do not dominate it. As Warren put it, 'I will only sail across the Southern Ocean once, but I will be telling my children about it for the rest of my life'. As always, Major has the last word and he sums up our feelings very well, 'The Southern Ocean is what the Global Challenge is all about and so far that challenge has not disappointed us'.
Giles Mackey
So, now that we are about two thirds of the way through our second Southern Ocean leg, how do some the crew feel about the experience so far? Despite, the cramped, cold and generally brutal conditions some of us are enjoying our Southern Ocean experience. As John Stewart put it, 'we didn't pay £27,000 to have a miserable time. We signed up to race around the world. The team camaraderie has been great and seeing things such as the Southern Lights in their full technicolor brilliance, pods of whales and the indescribable power and of the giant Southern Ocean rollers has made this adventure all the more worthwhile'.
For Goldie, this experience has left her with an overawing sense of the power of nature. Andrew, one of our helms agrees, 'helming has been truly exhilarating. We have been alternating the helms every 30 minutes, as there is a limit to how much cold, stinging spray and being knocked off your feet you can take. However, here I am, deep in the Southern Ocean steering a 72-foot racing yacht - I am living my dream!!'
Racing in the Southern Ocean is tough, but without that challenge none of us would have signed up. As Giles explains, 'There is little finesse to bashing into 40-foot waves; this leg is all about endurance and survival and so far we appear to be doing that quite well. However every so often, we climb a huge roller and surf down the other side at break neck speed. As we accelerate down the back of the wave I think, wow, this is awesome. I am one of the luckiest people alive!' Christian echoes these thoughts, 'when I am standing at the bow, it feels like I am on a different planet. The waves are incredible and should not be underestimated. Given a little respect, they let you pass and you feel like a conqueror'. The Southern Ocean is one of the wildest, untamed places on earth. It is the Mount Everest of sailing.
So hardship and sacrifice are part of the experience, but they do not dominate it. As Warren put it, 'I will only sail across the Southern Ocean once, but I will be telling my children about it for the rest of my life'. As always, Major has the last word and he sums up our feelings very well, 'The Southern Ocean is what the Global Challenge is all about and so far that challenge has not disappointed us'.
Giles Mackey
Sunday, March 20, 2005
49' 51S 78' 51E
Sunday means another week gone, another week closer to that warm sunshine and, in the more immediate term, time to open another barrel of hot chocolate (18 raucous cheers). We usually run out by Thursday as we have rationed ourselves to a weekly allowance to avoid plunging into no-hot-chocolate despair before this ordeal is over. Other news on deck today includes sightings of large swathes of kelp - pretty boring you might think, but not so for the land-hungry would-be circumnavigator. The kelp must have come, we reason, from those elusive islands we keep rabbitting on about - we are nearly at Waypoint Bravo! Admittedly it has been the longest week in the history of the world but after tomorrow it will truly be the beginning of the end. Last night saw a particularly vicious sea putting the on-watch to the test as they changed for the umpteenth time to the storm staysail and this morning there are tired arms all round on the part of the foredeck team. On Olly's watch this now includes BP crew Warren, who has swapped watches with Alaska Joe so that they can both get to know the entire crew and hopefully egg us along with some new jokes.
Here on BP Explorer we wonder what our friends and family are seeing back at home on the website. If you are seeing our position in relation to Waypoint Bravo then you will be under the impression that we have lost our lead. On the computer in front of me, however, we are measuring our progress against the more meaningful distance to Cape Town and with this as our yardstick, we are still in the lead - so never fear! We have, however, had a somewhat slow six hours and have lost some ground, so we are really having to pull our finger out to hold on to that top spot as we begin the final fortnight's push.
Naomi Cudmore
Here on BP Explorer we wonder what our friends and family are seeing back at home on the website. If you are seeing our position in relation to Waypoint Bravo then you will be under the impression that we have lost our lead. On the computer in front of me, however, we are measuring our progress against the more meaningful distance to Cape Town and with this as our yardstick, we are still in the lead - so never fear! We have, however, had a somewhat slow six hours and have lost some ground, so we are really having to pull our finger out to hold on to that top spot as we begin the final fortnight's push.
Naomi Cudmore
Saturday, March 19, 2005
49 56 S 81 02 E
Waypoint Bravo, that's what we are racing for now. It is something of a milestone in our trek across the Southern Ocean. We are hoping that when we pass it we can safely say the worst is over - at least we hope the worst is over. Another incentive to get there as quickly as possible it the promise of Champagne and ultra-large Crunchie bars which can incite a desperate crew to achieve almost anything. Apart from BG SPIRIT we are the most southerly boat and the fleet positions are probably showing us in second place. This is because we are positioning ourselves for Cape Town once we have passed the waypoint. We are hopeful that in a few days, once the fleet has rounded Bravo, we will be back in first place and looking good for the start of the two-week bit to the finish. We are now once again in the roaring forties but it is still very cold outside. As we enter our night watches there is something of a trade-off. On the one hand a clear sky means a fantastic display of the Southern Lights against a backdrop of stars, on the other, the lack of clouds means freezing temperatures and a watch where the maximum on-deck time is about 30 minutes. Standing at the cap shrouds trimming is a bit of an exciting affair as we dodge waves and freezing spray but 30 minutes of trimming is just a bit too much and so we stay as long as we can bear before crawling below to frantically wiggle fingers and toes back to life. Sailing has been made all the more difficult with the loss of our MkV TTS which was taken by a large wave over the deck. We have come to rely on this essential piece of equipment however we have cobbled something together that works, if not as efficiently. We are hoping that some friends and family visiting us in Cape Town will be able to bring a replacement. In contrast to the last Southern Ocean leg where spirits were far from high in the third week we are all still quite cheerful. We even come off some watches having enjoyed ourselves - not something we'll tell the Challenge Business of course they'll probably want to charge us more if we're having fun.
While searching for content for this log Stephen Allberry declared that he had been voted as hero of the leg, we agreed with him but what he didn't know is that we all voted for each other and so he has to share the prize with 17 others.
John Bass
While searching for content for this log Stephen Allberry declared that he had been voted as hero of the leg, we agreed with him but what he didn't know is that we all voted for each other and so he has to share the prize with 17 others.
John Bass
Friday, March 18, 2005
Global Challenge: BP Explorer Sacrifice 1st Place In Tactical Gamble
Taken from News Report on 09:03 18th March 2005
BP Explorer has sacrificed the lead in leg 4 of the Global Challenge in a tactical gamble on the approach to Waypoint Bravo, just north of the Kuergelen Islands in the Southern Indian Ocean.
In anticipation of the strong winds from the southwest that will soon fill in as a conventional Southern Ocean low passes under the fleet, they headed south to line themselves up for the mark.
The southwesterly winds will lift all the teams on the racecourse on the run in to the psychologically and tactically significant waypoint. David Melvile, skipper of BP Explorer, clearly believes his former position would have left him sailing too far north, and therefore further from the great circle route to Cape Town that will take the fleet south again after rounding the mark.
"We have purposefully cashed in our first-place position," reported BP Explorer Crew Volunteer, Naomi Cudmore, "getting some south in, hopefully to better set ourselves up for that 2,500-mile-long line to Cape Town. Whether or not this relatively bold move pays off will be impossible to determine until we finally round Bravo - probably on Monday."
BG SPIRIT has been heading south for some time, now in 10th place and also hoping the winds backing to the southwest and building in strength up to 30-35 knots will propel them through the rankings over the weekend.
At present though, former 2nd place Imagine It. Done. have taken the lead by 13nm; the team placed last on the overall leaderboard in 1st place on the water. After taking a few flyers that have not produced results in previous legs, skipper Dee Caffari promised her crew at the beginning of this leg in Sydney they would be concentrating on boat speed and staying in touch with the fleet. They have done exactly that and Dee's evaluation of their impressive performance was simple:
"We always knew we could sail the boat, but now we're pointing it in the right direction as well!"
Leaderboard DTF
1. Imagine It. Done. 3,088nm
2. BP Explorer 3,101nm
3. Spirit of Sark 3,108nm
4. Team Stelmar 3,114nm
5. Pindar 3,126nm
6. Barclays Adventurer 3,128nm
7. SAIC La Jolla 3,147nm
8. Samsung 3,152nm
9. Me to You 3,162nm
10.BG SPIRIT 3,170nm
11.VAIO 3,206nm
12.Team Save the Children 3,311nm
BP Explorer has sacrificed the lead in leg 4 of the Global Challenge in a tactical gamble on the approach to Waypoint Bravo, just north of the Kuergelen Islands in the Southern Indian Ocean.
In anticipation of the strong winds from the southwest that will soon fill in as a conventional Southern Ocean low passes under the fleet, they headed south to line themselves up for the mark.
The southwesterly winds will lift all the teams on the racecourse on the run in to the psychologically and tactically significant waypoint. David Melvile, skipper of BP Explorer, clearly believes his former position would have left him sailing too far north, and therefore further from the great circle route to Cape Town that will take the fleet south again after rounding the mark.
"We have purposefully cashed in our first-place position," reported BP Explorer Crew Volunteer, Naomi Cudmore, "getting some south in, hopefully to better set ourselves up for that 2,500-mile-long line to Cape Town. Whether or not this relatively bold move pays off will be impossible to determine until we finally round Bravo - probably on Monday."
BG SPIRIT has been heading south for some time, now in 10th place and also hoping the winds backing to the southwest and building in strength up to 30-35 knots will propel them through the rankings over the weekend.
At present though, former 2nd place Imagine It. Done. have taken the lead by 13nm; the team placed last on the overall leaderboard in 1st place on the water. After taking a few flyers that have not produced results in previous legs, skipper Dee Caffari promised her crew at the beginning of this leg in Sydney they would be concentrating on boat speed and staying in touch with the fleet. They have done exactly that and Dee's evaluation of their impressive performance was simple:
"We always knew we could sail the boat, but now we're pointing it in the right direction as well!"
Leaderboard DTF
1. Imagine It. Done. 3,088nm
2. BP Explorer 3,101nm
3. Spirit of Sark 3,108nm
4. Team Stelmar 3,114nm
5. Pindar 3,126nm
6. Barclays Adventurer 3,128nm
7. SAIC La Jolla 3,147nm
8. Samsung 3,152nm
9. Me to You 3,162nm
10.BG SPIRIT 3,170nm
11.VAIO 3,206nm
12.Team Save the Children 3,311nm
52' 03S 86' 30E
Waypoint Bravo, like Waypoint Alpha, feels about as elusive as a fat, juicy steak, as a warm dose of sunshine on bare skin, or perhaps even other life forms right now. We are, as usual, all wearing our greens, and are beginning to feel like as well as resemble aliens from another planet - walking around the boat like Michelin men in our ever-increasing layers, uninspired by the possibilities of getting clean given the temperature and peering out through salt-stung eyes at our strange world through the smallest possible slot between hood and snood. Any visitor to BP Explorer right now would assume that we all have about six hands and four feet - every nook and cranny is breeding big, dripping-wet gloves of every size and design imaginable, whilst the floors are lost beneath hundreds of boots. We have not seen another vessel for weeks and most news from home tells of a lovely English spring that is hard for us to imagine.
The waypoint is about 640 miles distant and overnight we have purposefully cashed in our first-place position, getting some south in, hopefully to better set ourselves up for that 2,500-mile-long line to Cape Town. Whether or not this relatively bold move pays off will be impossible to determine until we finally round Bravo - probably on Monday. Right now the winds are not proving hugely useful and we are experiencing a period of relatively light breezes, but we have great faith that we will fight our way back to the front and that we can dig deep enough into our admittedly somewhat weary bones to remain dedicated to the struggle for that leg win which we all want so very much. In the short term, we have champagne and a crunchy bar each, of monstrous proportions, to look forward to in celebration of Bravo when it eventually materialises!
Naomi Cudmore
The waypoint is about 640 miles distant and overnight we have purposefully cashed in our first-place position, getting some south in, hopefully to better set ourselves up for that 2,500-mile-long line to Cape Town. Whether or not this relatively bold move pays off will be impossible to determine until we finally round Bravo - probably on Monday. Right now the winds are not proving hugely useful and we are experiencing a period of relatively light breezes, but we have great faith that we will fight our way back to the front and that we can dig deep enough into our admittedly somewhat weary bones to remain dedicated to the struggle for that leg win which we all want so very much. In the short term, we have champagne and a crunchy bar each, of monstrous proportions, to look forward to in celebration of Bravo when it eventually materialises!
Naomi Cudmore
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