At 2200 last night, we emerged on deck to find Imagine it. Done. close by on our port beam, with Spirit of Sark visible out to the east to starboard; three yachts, reaching hard under spinnakers for the waypoint which lies 50-odd miles from Boston. Sticking out our noses for fifth place, we were so close that Eolus, the god of wind, could have strung his washing line between our three masts.
As a gauze of mauve and gold dissolved into the flat chill of the water, the sea turned from a mermaid silver-green to inky black. Polaris peeped out beside the shivering fabric of the kite and night fell. A drift of stars showered the skies above Cape Cod and mingled with the flashing undercarriages of a dozen trans-Atlantic flights.
Across the water, the lights from other vessels criss-cross from every direction, whilst we keep a razor-sharp eye on the relative bearings of our competitors to see who is making or losing ground with each passing minute. The points between us are absolutely crucial for the overall leader-board. Come fifth and BP Explorer will be level-pegging with BG SPIRIT; six or seventh means that we will lose our lead. Spirit of Sark currently lie two points behind us, so if they achieved fifth and Imagine It. Done. sixth, being in seventh would mean that we would be level-pegging with them in equal second.
It was clearly going to be a tough watch; figures on a screen do not have the immediacy of lights flanking us neck and neck. Our fate is unfolding before us and we are doing everything humanly possible to make sure it goes the right way. There is no time to check the scheds, but no matter; it is laid out within our own glimmering horizon for all the protagonists to see.
The communication on deck is about fine-tuning BP Explorer to get her flying along at her absolute best - and this in the face of difficult, shifty winds. Commands and confirmations are ping-ponging back and forth between helm and trimmer, trimmer and winchman, cockpit ad snakepit - batting back and forth as sheets and guys, foreguys and preventers are altered every couple of minutes.
Then there is that fabulous call: 'Laaand-Ho!' Chris, trimming the kite at the shrouds, has spotted a lighthouse about 20 degrees off the port bow. Slowly the low orange glow of Boston dims our ceiling of starlight and we count down to the waypoint. As I head for bed, I can hear the new watch continuing the game. We are about half a mile in front of Imagine It. Done. and Spirit of Sark. David is at this moment overseeing progress right above my head in the cockpit. 'Well done everybody, we are now round the first waypoint! Let's just keep it going, stay focussed and trim the ass off this boat!'
Stick with us. We are sailing our hearts out. We are nearly there.
Showing posts with label Leg5. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Leg5. Show all posts
Monday, June 6, 2005
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.
Saturday, June 4, 2005
38o55N 63o44W
The stage is set for the final few days of this leg; it looks like it's going to be a bit of a nail-biter. For all our friends and family watching the website at home I'm sure it'll be the start of an anxious few days. For us too trying to defend our current position and maybe, just maybe steal another place before the finish line, it's going to be a finger tapping, position report watching, 48 hours. For BG SPIRIT the leg is almost over but they will be watching with interest to see where Spirit of Sark and we come in because that will affect the overall positions going into the next leg to La Rochelle. We need fourth or better to maintain our lead; it is going to be
tough. Barclays Adventurer are 90 miles ahead of us, VAIO are 50. These are miles that could disappear in one day but it would require a lot of luck to be on our side. Next in fourth place, at the moment, is SAIC La Jolla, that's who we have our sights on. It has happened before, we've thought the positions were pretty much set and then on the last day everything has changed.
The weather still has a couple of hands to play and it is set to go light again in the next 24 hours which could create an opening for us - conversely it could also create an opening for those behind. It has been so close this leg and it will go down to the last few hours I'm sure. Spirit of Sark, our constant companions on this leg, are only eight miles behind and Imagine It Done less than a mile. Seeing them on the radar and occasionally over our shoulders has the affect of keeping us very, very focused. On the white board one of the crew has put the message 'it ain't over until the fat lady sings' and we know from previous legs it certainly isn't.
We all start planning our stopover activities about now. Unfortunately we may only have one day off in Boston so we are not going to be able to do much. Shopping is top of the list for most of us. The excellent exchange rate means that most things are going to be about half the price they are in
the UK. Casual enquiries as to what are the best laptops have been made to Richard and myself and it looks like the electronics shops of Boston may do very well out of this crew at least.
It's strange to think that the 2004-5 Global Challenge is almost over. This is the last of the long legs and the next two are a couple of weeks and less than a week. That would have been a long sail back when I started the training, now they are short hops. I'm sure all too soon I'll miss it all and I'll wonder why I wished away the days, at this precise moment, I can't
wait to get into Boston.
tough. Barclays Adventurer are 90 miles ahead of us, VAIO are 50. These are miles that could disappear in one day but it would require a lot of luck to be on our side. Next in fourth place, at the moment, is SAIC La Jolla, that's who we have our sights on. It has happened before, we've thought the positions were pretty much set and then on the last day everything has changed.
The weather still has a couple of hands to play and it is set to go light again in the next 24 hours which could create an opening for us - conversely it could also create an opening for those behind. It has been so close this leg and it will go down to the last few hours I'm sure. Spirit of Sark, our constant companions on this leg, are only eight miles behind and Imagine It Done less than a mile. Seeing them on the radar and occasionally over our shoulders has the affect of keeping us very, very focused. On the white board one of the crew has put the message 'it ain't over until the fat lady sings' and we know from previous legs it certainly isn't.
We all start planning our stopover activities about now. Unfortunately we may only have one day off in Boston so we are not going to be able to do much. Shopping is top of the list for most of us. The excellent exchange rate means that most things are going to be about half the price they are in
the UK. Casual enquiries as to what are the best laptops have been made to Richard and myself and it looks like the electronics shops of Boston may do very well out of this crew at least.
It's strange to think that the 2004-5 Global Challenge is almost over. This is the last of the long legs and the next two are a couple of weeks and less than a week. That would have been a long sail back when I started the training, now they are short hops. I'm sure all too soon I'll miss it all and I'll wonder why I wished away the days, at this precise moment, I can't
wait to get into Boston.
Friday, June 3, 2005
38o11N 62o05W
On Tuesday we were bemoaning our prolonged light-winds fate; all around us the drifts of ochre-coloured Sargasso weed seemed to be travelling faster thanBP Explorer and we wondered if the three turtles we had seen were actually the same one as we spun around going nowhere.
We demanded that the navigators order us some better wind - and they certainly took us at our word. By the early hours of Wednesday morning, somebody had 'packed up the stars' and we were exchanging our 1.5oz kite for the heavier-weight flanker. Under rain clouds by dawn, the crew began to change down through the gears, donning their foulies and dropping the sails until we were left with No.3 headsail,
storm staysail and three reefs - the standard gale sail-plan.
With gusts of 52 knots across the deck as we approached the middle of the low-pressure system, even the mainsail had to come down, albeit briefly. But whereas we have on occasion groaned at the prospect of a Force 8-9, the general consensus was 'bring it on'. Lumps of old flapjack in hidden
recesses of the deck, weeks of unidentified fluff lodged here and there, most of all our energy levels - all called for a good blast of wind and water; a gale was just what was needed to refresh and energise BP Explorer, blowing away the ennui and frustration. We took the weather in our stride
and by afternoon were reversing the sail changes again, the new watch undoing what the morning watch had done and now belting back up through the gears.
Last night, having watched a huge cadmium sunset melting into the still-choppy sea, I allowed myself a peek at the scheds for the first time in days; it looked promising, Barclays Adventurer and Team Stelmar having both conceded around ten miles to us, from in front and behind respectively. Further north than BP Explorer, it might be that they are suffering adverse effects of the
Gulf Stream. Meanwhile, to the south, SAIC La Jolla and VAIO had grown closer, having already arrived at the lighter winds which we are now also beginning to encounter. The important thing is certainly to hold on tight to fifth, but it does seem possible that we might improve upon this, Barclays Adventurer (currently third) being now 38 miles distant, and SAIC La Jolla (fourth) 28.
As a visible reminder that we have to keep going - and going fast - we can see the masthead light of Imagine It. Done. about three miles dead astern, pointing straight up towards a grapefruit-yellow crescent moon. Now on a
level with Washington DC, we have just 424 miles to go to the Cape Cod waypoint. So with any luck the next log from me will be written just a few hours away from a bottle - or seven, or eight - of Bud, followed shortly by bath and a big bed!
As I went to send this I noticed that the new scheds had come in. If you take a look at the race viewer this morning you will see that these distances have been eaten up even more! A new light-winds lottery unfolding just a few miles ahead of us, you could even soon be watching the start to
the race - at least for second place - beginning all over again.
We demanded that the navigators order us some better wind - and they certainly took us at our word. By the early hours of Wednesday morning, somebody had 'packed up the stars' and we were exchanging our 1.5oz kite for the heavier-weight flanker. Under rain clouds by dawn, the crew began to change down through the gears, donning their foulies and dropping the sails until we were left with No.3 headsail,
storm staysail and three reefs - the standard gale sail-plan.
With gusts of 52 knots across the deck as we approached the middle of the low-pressure system, even the mainsail had to come down, albeit briefly. But whereas we have on occasion groaned at the prospect of a Force 8-9, the general consensus was 'bring it on'. Lumps of old flapjack in hidden
recesses of the deck, weeks of unidentified fluff lodged here and there, most of all our energy levels - all called for a good blast of wind and water; a gale was just what was needed to refresh and energise BP Explorer, blowing away the ennui and frustration. We took the weather in our stride
and by afternoon were reversing the sail changes again, the new watch undoing what the morning watch had done and now belting back up through the gears.
Last night, having watched a huge cadmium sunset melting into the still-choppy sea, I allowed myself a peek at the scheds for the first time in days; it looked promising, Barclays Adventurer and Team Stelmar having both conceded around ten miles to us, from in front and behind respectively. Further north than BP Explorer, it might be that they are suffering adverse effects of the
Gulf Stream. Meanwhile, to the south, SAIC La Jolla and VAIO had grown closer, having already arrived at the lighter winds which we are now also beginning to encounter. The important thing is certainly to hold on tight to fifth, but it does seem possible that we might improve upon this, Barclays Adventurer (currently third) being now 38 miles distant, and SAIC La Jolla (fourth) 28.
As a visible reminder that we have to keep going - and going fast - we can see the masthead light of Imagine It. Done. about three miles dead astern, pointing straight up towards a grapefruit-yellow crescent moon. Now on a
level with Washington DC, we have just 424 miles to go to the Cape Cod waypoint. So with any luck the next log from me will be written just a few hours away from a bottle - or seven, or eight - of Bud, followed shortly by bath and a big bed!
As I went to send this I noticed that the new scheds had come in. If you take a look at the race viewer this morning you will see that these distances have been eaten up even more! A new light-winds lottery unfolding just a few miles ahead of us, you could even soon be watching the start to
the race - at least for second place - beginning all over again.
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.
Wednesday, June 1, 2005
35' 45N 53' 39W
OK, I must admit, this is getting a bit boring now. We are back in light airs, long sunny days and cloudless nights wistfully floating along with little or no boat speed.
Goldie Raley said today "You know, we shouldn't complain, if this was a day sail these would be near perfect conditions" The trouble is we are in our fifth week now and we would really like to get to Boston and finish this confounded leg. The position reports are changing so frequently, and in such a way, that we could understand if people have contacted the Challenge Business asking if the website is reporting the correct information. We have to double-check the figures ourselves as we type them in too. In a 24-hour period our position will go from third to eighth to fifth with no indication where we will end up as we get the next reports -it's all so random. It has reached a stage where I for one pretty much ignore them.
Once the wind picks up and there is once again an equal playing field, then can we analyse how we are doing in the race. For now we can pretty much assume that BG SPIRIT has it in the bag for first place, Team Save The Children and Pindar are going to need some help to get out of the last two places but every other position is there to play for - though VAIO are building a nice distance with about 60 miles between them in second place and SAIC La Jolla in third.
The weather predictions are suggesting a change in the conditions in the next 24 hours with winds of 30 knots and a possibility of 50 knots, however these are not set to last more than about eight hours or so.
The talk on deck and at the midday briefings has been can we do anything? David confirmed that we are sailing the boat as well as we can for the conditions but there is not much more we can do. Yachts either side of us gain one moment and we and the yachts behind gain the next. For the first time in the race so far I think luck is playing a huge part. Amongst the crew it's a new emotion to deal with - are we destined to be lucky? We've had some luck in the past but our ability to sail the boat better in most conditions has been the key factor in putting us two points ahead overall.
With such variable conditions controlling our destiny, at least in the short term, we have to dig deep to a new place, let the uncontrollables deal their hand and play it the best we can.
Goldie Raley said today "You know, we shouldn't complain, if this was a day sail these would be near perfect conditions" The trouble is we are in our fifth week now and we would really like to get to Boston and finish this confounded leg. The position reports are changing so frequently, and in such a way, that we could understand if people have contacted the Challenge Business asking if the website is reporting the correct information. We have to double-check the figures ourselves as we type them in too. In a 24-hour period our position will go from third to eighth to fifth with no indication where we will end up as we get the next reports -it's all so random. It has reached a stage where I for one pretty much ignore them.
Once the wind picks up and there is once again an equal playing field, then can we analyse how we are doing in the race. For now we can pretty much assume that BG SPIRIT has it in the bag for first place, Team Save The Children and Pindar are going to need some help to get out of the last two places but every other position is there to play for - though VAIO are building a nice distance with about 60 miles between them in second place and SAIC La Jolla in third.
The weather predictions are suggesting a change in the conditions in the next 24 hours with winds of 30 knots and a possibility of 50 knots, however these are not set to last more than about eight hours or so.
The talk on deck and at the midday briefings has been can we do anything? David confirmed that we are sailing the boat as well as we can for the conditions but there is not much more we can do. Yachts either side of us gain one moment and we and the yachts behind gain the next. For the first time in the race so far I think luck is playing a huge part. Amongst the crew it's a new emotion to deal with - are we destined to be lucky? We've had some luck in the past but our ability to sail the boat better in most conditions has been the key factor in putting us two points ahead overall.
With such variable conditions controlling our destiny, at least in the short term, we have to dig deep to a new place, let the uncontrollables deal their hand and play it the best we can.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
34o11N 52o24W
One of BP Explorer's mottos is 'control the controllables'. It has served us well, but for much of the time over recent days it has been more a case of reacting to the hand we are dealt. We had day after day of glassy, carribbean-blue waters, negligible - or even negative - speeds towards Boston and ripples of restless boredom amongst those torturing their weary bottoms on the rail. Then, the night before last, we went from swimming-pool-flat waters to reaching along under the flanker. Somebody had switched the wind on. Then they changed their minds and turned it off again. The spinnaker was out of its bag, flying, down the companionway and back in its bag in less time than it takes to nip out for as pint of milk.
And, as the scheds have shown all too clearly, if the wind can change so radically over a couple of hundred yards, it is not surprising that the yachts fighting it out behind BG SPIRIT and VAIO are playing musical chairs.
If I had a bit more self-discipline I would avoid looking at the figures until the situation regains some semblance of normality, especially when they read as they did half an hour ago, putting us back from fourth to eighth. But for now it is in some ways meaningless; less than seven miles separate us from third and we have at least made gains on Imagine it. Done. in third. The wind that we are currently enjoying will help us knock a few more miles off before daylight. Then, after tomorrow's return to light winds, a gale is predicted to serve as the introduction to the final few days of the voyage.
Sunday saw the last of the alcohol come and go with Christian's birthday, so it was with some relief that we passed on to the right side of '1,000 miles to the waypoint' yesterday afternoon - Boston is now 946 miles distant.
Right on cue to rouse Chris from his worries about ageing, we were also treated to yet more wildlife; every time that he talked about wanting to go for a birthday swim another shark would appear. Several sperm whales also kept us company, spouting in the sunshine, and yesterday we saw our first turtle - swimming in an ungainly, flapping kind of way past the hull, one leathery 'arm' in the air, waving us on. 'Hurry up,' he seemed to be saying. 'They're waiting for you!'
And, as the scheds have shown all too clearly, if the wind can change so radically over a couple of hundred yards, it is not surprising that the yachts fighting it out behind BG SPIRIT and VAIO are playing musical chairs.
If I had a bit more self-discipline I would avoid looking at the figures until the situation regains some semblance of normality, especially when they read as they did half an hour ago, putting us back from fourth to eighth. But for now it is in some ways meaningless; less than seven miles separate us from third and we have at least made gains on Imagine it. Done. in third. The wind that we are currently enjoying will help us knock a few more miles off before daylight. Then, after tomorrow's return to light winds, a gale is predicted to serve as the introduction to the final few days of the voyage.
Sunday saw the last of the alcohol come and go with Christian's birthday, so it was with some relief that we passed on to the right side of '1,000 miles to the waypoint' yesterday afternoon - Boston is now 946 miles distant.
Right on cue to rouse Chris from his worries about ageing, we were also treated to yet more wildlife; every time that he talked about wanting to go for a birthday swim another shark would appear. Several sperm whales also kept us company, spouting in the sunshine, and yesterday we saw our first turtle - swimming in an ungainly, flapping kind of way past the hull, one leathery 'arm' in the air, waving us on. 'Hurry up,' he seemed to be saying. 'They're waiting for you!'
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.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
31o37N 49o03W
We're still here! Just in case you were thinking the Challenge website was on the blink and the display of our position has frozen - believe it or not we are still racing. One could, not surprisingly, think that we'd had enough of all that rushing about and decided to take life at a more leisurely pace.
We've done over 27,000 miles through the world's toughest oceans, we've smashed through huge waves, fought to put up sails in howling winds and stood trimming at the shrouds in freezing temperatures. Even in port it's a mad rush to get the boat ready for the next leg and the stress of packing
your bag three days before you leave and trying to get it to 30 kilos even thought you've just brought ten kilos of stuff in port should not be underestimated. You could be forgiven for thinking - I recon they're taking advantage of the sun and having a bit of a rest. Even now as you sit at our desks with a full day ahead, deadlines to meet, bosses to please you may
wonder - I bet they are sunning themselves on deck and drinking some of that Gin & tonic that we know they've got on board. They don't seem to be moving very fast that's for sure. Well you would be nearly right actually, we are
catching up on our tans and there's not much to do so, but for the helm, nav and trimmers we are sat on the rail chatting amongst ourselves. However it's like being stuck in a traffic jam, stuck on the tube or delayed at the airport - it's a gap in the hectic schedule but you can't rest. Your brain
knows you've got to be somewhere and it won't relax until you're there. You are constantly looking at your watch counting how much time has been wasted, feverishly looking at alternative routes and wondering what the rest of the
world is doing while you are stuck in that same spot for what seems like an age. It's not free time it's time not doing something when you should be doing something and that's worse than no free time. We are eating the same food we would be if we were working hard so we're getting fatter. We're not as tired (physically) so it is actually more difficult to sleep during the off watches. The tendency is to stay awake and read or catch up on the e-mails, the problem then is that you disrupt your sleep patterns and you'll
be tired on watch and awake off watch again. Believe us when we say we are wishing and praying for wind. It's not good for the soul all this floating about.
BG SPIRIT's bold move to the North looks to be paying off. They are over 100 miles in front. It's by no means over yet but you have to tip your hat at the move they made going out on their own as they did. Such a move could have spelt disaster and they deserve their moment of glory. The next four positions are being traded almost by the hour and there is less than a mile between second, third and forth place and thereafter 15 and 18 miles for fifth and sixth place - nothing at all in these conditions. So, we wait, and wait, and wait.
Such is the nature of this game that I doubt if, even with their lead, BG SPIRIT is able to relax and until we cross the finish line neither can we - even if we do, deserve a bit of a rest.
We've done over 27,000 miles through the world's toughest oceans, we've smashed through huge waves, fought to put up sails in howling winds and stood trimming at the shrouds in freezing temperatures. Even in port it's a mad rush to get the boat ready for the next leg and the stress of packing
your bag three days before you leave and trying to get it to 30 kilos even thought you've just brought ten kilos of stuff in port should not be underestimated. You could be forgiven for thinking - I recon they're taking advantage of the sun and having a bit of a rest. Even now as you sit at our desks with a full day ahead, deadlines to meet, bosses to please you may
wonder - I bet they are sunning themselves on deck and drinking some of that Gin & tonic that we know they've got on board. They don't seem to be moving very fast that's for sure. Well you would be nearly right actually, we are
catching up on our tans and there's not much to do so, but for the helm, nav and trimmers we are sat on the rail chatting amongst ourselves. However it's like being stuck in a traffic jam, stuck on the tube or delayed at the airport - it's a gap in the hectic schedule but you can't rest. Your brain
knows you've got to be somewhere and it won't relax until you're there. You are constantly looking at your watch counting how much time has been wasted, feverishly looking at alternative routes and wondering what the rest of the
world is doing while you are stuck in that same spot for what seems like an age. It's not free time it's time not doing something when you should be doing something and that's worse than no free time. We are eating the same food we would be if we were working hard so we're getting fatter. We're not as tired (physically) so it is actually more difficult to sleep during the off watches. The tendency is to stay awake and read or catch up on the e-mails, the problem then is that you disrupt your sleep patterns and you'll
be tired on watch and awake off watch again. Believe us when we say we are wishing and praying for wind. It's not good for the soul all this floating about.
BG SPIRIT's bold move to the North looks to be paying off. They are over 100 miles in front. It's by no means over yet but you have to tip your hat at the move they made going out on their own as they did. Such a move could have spelt disaster and they deserve their moment of glory. The next four positions are being traded almost by the hour and there is less than a mile between second, third and forth place and thereafter 15 and 18 miles for fifth and sixth place - nothing at all in these conditions. So, we wait, and wait, and wait.
Such is the nature of this game that I doubt if, even with their lead, BG SPIRIT is able to relax and until we cross the finish line neither can we - even if we do, deserve a bit of a rest.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
31o08N 48o04W
Tonight BP Explorer is becalmed in a slight swell. She is making that particular noise - a gentle thudding slap of hull against the gloopy-sounding water - 'thwump. pause. thwump. pause. thwump'. This is not exactly music to the ears of the helms who wait patiently for enough wind to make it possible to sail course. Every few moments the navigator pops his head up like a meerkat through the companionway. Squinting into the gloom of the cockpit, he delivers a running commentary on our progress, which he has been watching
below on the MAXSea. In this case it is Stephen.
Up the steps he goes. 'That's course Holger. Keep steering 345 degrees.' Down he goes. Five minutes later, up he goes: 'You are 25 low, we need to start thinking about a gybe.'
And so we yo-yo back and forth, back and forth.
People are trying to contain their sighs and remain patient, but even a saint would struggle right now. Our probable arrival date is slipping back (it looks like Saturday at the moment), and the prognosis for the next 24 hours or so is not brilliant. The navigators order new weather forecasts
almost every day via email, and BG SPIRIT, around 150 miles to the north, can clearly see the same thing as us. They have continued their flyer but have been sacrificing miles to us as they sail due north. 'They are keeping an
eye on this lousy mess and are trying to avoid it,' I am told. This 'lousy mess' (a technical meteorological term) is, crudely speaking, caused by two highs, with north-flowing wind on one side, south-flowing wind on the other and very little - just light, flukey winds - between. This is where we are.
Those of us at 31oN or thereabouts are fighting a battle through similar conditions. Within our own horizon, we are engaged in an ungainly dance, with Spirit of Sark watching us watching them, and Team Stelmar watching us watching Spirit of Sark watching them. If you see what I mean. Meanwhile, some 20 or so miles to
the east, Barclays Adventurer and SAIC La Jolla are also experiencing much the same pattern of events and are now three miles and almost seven miles behind respectively - which at least puts us back in third.
Bob Dylan sings 'The times they are a-changing' on the stereo, Christian is baking bread in the warm fug of the galley, time seems to be slooowing down. The meerkat, sleepy by now, appears again, huffing and puffing, exhaling his
words with a tired groan. 'We are still 25 low. We just need some more wind!'
'Well, YOU ordered this sh*t!' jokes the helm. 'Why don't you go and order something different - like about 20 knots!'
below on the MAXSea. In this case it is Stephen.
Up the steps he goes. 'That's course Holger. Keep steering 345 degrees.' Down he goes. Five minutes later, up he goes: 'You are 25 low, we need to start thinking about a gybe.'
And so we yo-yo back and forth, back and forth.
People are trying to contain their sighs and remain patient, but even a saint would struggle right now. Our probable arrival date is slipping back (it looks like Saturday at the moment), and the prognosis for the next 24 hours or so is not brilliant. The navigators order new weather forecasts
almost every day via email, and BG SPIRIT, around 150 miles to the north, can clearly see the same thing as us. They have continued their flyer but have been sacrificing miles to us as they sail due north. 'They are keeping an
eye on this lousy mess and are trying to avoid it,' I am told. This 'lousy mess' (a technical meteorological term) is, crudely speaking, caused by two highs, with north-flowing wind on one side, south-flowing wind on the other and very little - just light, flukey winds - between. This is where we are.
Those of us at 31oN or thereabouts are fighting a battle through similar conditions. Within our own horizon, we are engaged in an ungainly dance, with Spirit of Sark watching us watching them, and Team Stelmar watching us watching Spirit of Sark watching them. If you see what I mean. Meanwhile, some 20 or so miles to
the east, Barclays Adventurer and SAIC La Jolla are also experiencing much the same pattern of events and are now three miles and almost seven miles behind respectively - which at least puts us back in third.
Bob Dylan sings 'The times they are a-changing' on the stereo, Christian is baking bread in the warm fug of the galley, time seems to be slooowing down. The meerkat, sleepy by now, appears again, huffing and puffing, exhaling his
words with a tired groan. 'We are still 25 low. We just need some more wind!'
'Well, YOU ordered this sh*t!' jokes the helm. 'Why don't you go and order something different - like about 20 knots!'
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!
Thursday, May 26, 2005
27o49N 45o36W
We kind of knew it was going to happen, it always does! The once perfect position of us in first place, BG SPIRIT behind and Spirit of Sark way back in seventh place was bound to change - it has. For days we've been predicting light airs and they have been better than we expected. In the first leg from Portsmouth to Buenos Aires it seemed like we were sitting in the middle of a glassy sea, not going anywhere, loads of times. This leg we have been luckier. There have been light winds but they have not lasted long and after a short period of just going slow, we've been off again. It's now gone light in fact it's just gone! We woke this morning to the sullen faces of the on-watch who, during the night, had been zigzagging across the chart in search of some forward motion. A new set of position reports were in that although were not bad - we had actually gained a place (we were first), they were not good either. Our constant foe, Spirit of Sark has crept up into second place just 5 miles behind. It is a sign of how much we want to win this leg, indeed win the race, when even when we are in first place we are disappointed that the others are not further behind. We can now see Spirit of Sark over to our left, two yachts bobbing on a still pond, small puffy clouds littering the sky, the sun blazing a fiery trail across the water. It could be an idyllic scene, it is idyllic but for the fact that on both yachts there is a harnessed energy wanting, waiting for the wind to rise, standing poised to shuttle the crew into action steering, trimming and changing sails. Instead we are creeping about not wanting to affect the little boat speed we have.
We are nervously looking over at our nemesis and hoping that they don't move in front, don't catch some wind and don't sail off leaving us behind to wallow. There's not much we can do actually. All those speedy sail changes, perfect gybes mean nothing when there is no wind. We can send someone up the mast to look for wind; David is up there now. The helms and navigators can watch the numbers for anything that might help us get going and the rest of us can be alert, ready for the next tack to capture the little puff of available breeze. It is actually more stressful than when we've got 40 knots. It's another reason to send David up the mast!
Hopefully this will not last and we'll be on our way again soon. Hopefully the gods have not saved all the light stuff and are going to give it to us all at once. It's cruel really that a on a perfectly beautiful day in a spectacular environment where all worries should melt away like the ice in our imaginary gin & tonics we are instead fretting and fussing about racing. Still that's what we are doing - that's ocean racing I guess.
John Bass
All the crew would just like to wish our BP Explorer Project Manager, Claire Blakeway a very, very happy birthday today. We are so lucky to have you on our team and our thoughts will be with you. Our recommendation, take the day off from looking after us and leave answering any e-mails until tomorrow afternoon!
We are nervously looking over at our nemesis and hoping that they don't move in front, don't catch some wind and don't sail off leaving us behind to wallow. There's not much we can do actually. All those speedy sail changes, perfect gybes mean nothing when there is no wind. We can send someone up the mast to look for wind; David is up there now. The helms and navigators can watch the numbers for anything that might help us get going and the rest of us can be alert, ready for the next tack to capture the little puff of available breeze. It is actually more stressful than when we've got 40 knots. It's another reason to send David up the mast!
Hopefully this will not last and we'll be on our way again soon. Hopefully the gods have not saved all the light stuff and are going to give it to us all at once. It's cruel really that a on a perfectly beautiful day in a spectacular environment where all worries should melt away like the ice in our imaginary gin & tonics we are instead fretting and fussing about racing. Still that's what we are doing - that's ocean racing I guess.
John Bass
All the crew would just like to wish our BP Explorer Project Manager, Claire Blakeway a very, very happy birthday today. We are so lucky to have you on our team and our thoughts will be with you. Our recommendation, take the day off from looking after us and leave answering any e-mails until tomorrow afternoon!
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
25o12N 44o07W
As the wind shifted forwards at 6pm watch changeover yesterday, we dropped the flanker and those left on deck took a well-needed bath as the heavens opened. Below decks it is the same temperature as a steel-works, so fireman Rob tells us, so the wash was a refreshing treat. Not that this was how everyone saw it. Holger, on the helm, was determined to stay dry and had somehow managed to reach for his foulie jacket just in time, whilst those at the shrouds and on the winches got as soaked as they would have done on any Southern Ocean watch, albeit in considerably warmer water this time. But it just didn't seem fair, so before coming off deck Chris and Rich poured two bottles of water down Holger's neck. Herr Doktor was not impressed!
Now, we are slipping through the early hours with the genoa up after a brief spell with the yankee and staysail, and the breeze is fading. Rain gave way to a wash of watercolour sunset before the full moon lit our path towards Boston. A net of bright stars emerging between fleeting white clouds promises a lovely dawn when we hope to discover that this dying wind has not lost us any ground to those following in our wake. Very light winds are expected over the next couple of days and it seems likely that we will lose some miles to those boats out to the east - fingers crossed that any reshuffling in their favour leaves plenty of scope for us to recover the lead in the final week.
The distance seems to have been eaten up so quickly - yesterday we again reached for the cocktail umbrellas and a couple of fresh limes to put the finishing touches to our G&Ts - poured in celebration of crossing the Tropic of Cancer in second place. So that's another of our objectives for the leg marked with a tick and something to feel very proud of. The only one left now unmarked on the wall is 'Win the Leg'. We have 1,600 miles left in which to achieve this and work continues around the clock to seize every opportunity to maximise boat speed. One of the most important objectives in the short term must be to keep our thoughts in the here and now. With emails coming thick and fast requesting decisions and information for the finish at Portsmouth, this can sometimes be harder than you might think. The conversation on deck is now less about the trading currency of a cereal bar versus sour jelly worms (priceless by the way), and more about what we will all do when we get back, what it is going to feel like racing up the Solent and what a party it is going to be!
But we do, after all, have around 5,000 miles of racing before us, valuable points for three of the seven legs left up for grabs and several weeks of sailing during which anything could happen. So it is a case of fixing our eye firmly on the ball. It's all about that feeling once you reach the end of a race; the beer tastes so much sweeter if you feel that you have done everything possible, given every ounce of your concentration and effort to get the best possible result. Do that and I am sure that Boston, La Rochelle and Portsmouth will be days that are hard to beat!
Now, we are slipping through the early hours with the genoa up after a brief spell with the yankee and staysail, and the breeze is fading. Rain gave way to a wash of watercolour sunset before the full moon lit our path towards Boston. A net of bright stars emerging between fleeting white clouds promises a lovely dawn when we hope to discover that this dying wind has not lost us any ground to those following in our wake. Very light winds are expected over the next couple of days and it seems likely that we will lose some miles to those boats out to the east - fingers crossed that any reshuffling in their favour leaves plenty of scope for us to recover the lead in the final week.
The distance seems to have been eaten up so quickly - yesterday we again reached for the cocktail umbrellas and a couple of fresh limes to put the finishing touches to our G&Ts - poured in celebration of crossing the Tropic of Cancer in second place. So that's another of our objectives for the leg marked with a tick and something to feel very proud of. The only one left now unmarked on the wall is 'Win the Leg'. We have 1,600 miles left in which to achieve this and work continues around the clock to seize every opportunity to maximise boat speed. One of the most important objectives in the short term must be to keep our thoughts in the here and now. With emails coming thick and fast requesting decisions and information for the finish at Portsmouth, this can sometimes be harder than you might think. The conversation on deck is now less about the trading currency of a cereal bar versus sour jelly worms (priceless by the way), and more about what we will all do when we get back, what it is going to feel like racing up the Solent and what a party it is going to be!
But we do, after all, have around 5,000 miles of racing before us, valuable points for three of the seven legs left up for grabs and several weeks of sailing during which anything could happen. So it is a case of fixing our eye firmly on the ball. It's all about that feeling once you reach the end of a race; the beer tastes so much sweeter if you feel that you have done everything possible, given every ounce of your concentration and effort to get the best possible result. Do that and I am sure that Boston, La Rochelle and Portsmouth will be days that are hard to beat!
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.
Monday, May 23, 2005
19 39N 40 26W
The other day Christian came up to me and said how would I like to change watches? As bowmen we share the same role on each watch and he suggested that he would like to see how Olly's watch did things - he has been on Cop's watch since the start in October. It would also give us both a chance to work with the rest of the crew which, although we'd worked together plenty of times in training and on start and finishes, had not spent day-to-day watches with before.
I was a little uneasy at first. Although we are all one team we are divided into two smaller mini teams for each watch and moving from the group I'd been with from the start would be strange. It did make me analyse just how much I thought I knew Cop, Major, Andrew, John Stewart, Giles and Goldie - though Giles and Goldie have been on Olly's watch before
now. Anyway, we agreed and last night I went to bed early from Olly's watch and was woken half way through Cop's watch. It's not very surprising that everything works pretty much the same. Both watches talk through how they perform procedures and pass tips and suggestions on to each other. At our daily crew de-brief, ways of doing things are agreed and issues such as safety, crew happiness and performance are discussed as one crew. The fundamental difference is the day-to-day personalities. Over time we get to know who, on our watch, is grumpy when first woken, who naturally migrates to certain jobs such as main trimming, running the spinnaker lines etc. or just what food they prefer at meal times for example. These are all things that I didn't, and still don't, know about my new watch. Nearly eight months into the race having circumnavigated the world under sail with this
crew I only intimately knew 'my watch'. So over the next ten to fourteen days or so, until the end of this leg, I'm going to get to know how they tick and they are going to get to know me a little better too - certainly something I hadn't thought about at the start of the leg. Already our swap has become something of a talking point and both watch leaders have reported a renewed vigour from us both, perhaps as a result of us trying to impress our new 'mini' team-mates.
The swap certainly hasn't affected our performance. As of this afternoon's position reports we have moved from third to be in first place again. Our constant attention to trimming and helming is paying off and we have crept up on and overtaken SAIC La Jolla and BG SPIRIT who are now four miles and seven miles behind us respectfully.
David reports that he has never sailed so fast and consistently in a straight line before and we have covered an amazing 4700 miles in three weeks with just under 2000 still to go. It's fingers crossed for continued good winds and an early entry into Boston. We currently have our 1.5 race kite up which has not been out for nearly a week so it's looking good.
I was a little uneasy at first. Although we are all one team we are divided into two smaller mini teams for each watch and moving from the group I'd been with from the start would be strange. It did make me analyse just how much I thought I knew Cop, Major, Andrew, John Stewart, Giles and Goldie - though Giles and Goldie have been on Olly's watch before
now. Anyway, we agreed and last night I went to bed early from Olly's watch and was woken half way through Cop's watch. It's not very surprising that everything works pretty much the same. Both watches talk through how they perform procedures and pass tips and suggestions on to each other. At our daily crew de-brief, ways of doing things are agreed and issues such as safety, crew happiness and performance are discussed as one crew. The fundamental difference is the day-to-day personalities. Over time we get to know who, on our watch, is grumpy when first woken, who naturally migrates to certain jobs such as main trimming, running the spinnaker lines etc. or just what food they prefer at meal times for example. These are all things that I didn't, and still don't, know about my new watch. Nearly eight months into the race having circumnavigated the world under sail with this
crew I only intimately knew 'my watch'. So over the next ten to fourteen days or so, until the end of this leg, I'm going to get to know how they tick and they are going to get to know me a little better too - certainly something I hadn't thought about at the start of the leg. Already our swap has become something of a talking point and both watch leaders have reported a renewed vigour from us both, perhaps as a result of us trying to impress our new 'mini' team-mates.
The swap certainly hasn't affected our performance. As of this afternoon's position reports we have moved from third to be in first place again. Our constant attention to trimming and helming is paying off and we have crept up on and overtaken SAIC La Jolla and BG SPIRIT who are now four miles and seven miles behind us respectfully.
David reports that he has never sailed so fast and consistently in a straight line before and we have covered an amazing 4700 miles in three weeks with just under 2000 still to go. It's fingers crossed for continued good winds and an early entry into Boston. We currently have our 1.5 race kite up which has not been out for nearly a week so it's looking good.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
16o29N 38o23W
Can we, can't we? Can we, can't we? The wind is see-sawing forwards and backwards, taking us in and out of the parameters for flying the kite at a frustrating rate. Still carrying our yellow headsails and sailing fast enough to slowly improve upon our position sched by sched, we are itching to hoist the flanker which will give us even better boat speed.
"Wind has gone aft," calls the helm, and the headsail trimmer disappears up front to re-check trim.
"Wind has gone aft another five degrees." Now the flanker seems possible. David stands by the wheel, huffing and puffing, brow furrowed.
"We'll give it five minutes and see. If this holds we'll go for it." Bowman, foredeck guys and snakepit get everything ready for a hoist.
"Wind has come forwards again," notes the yankee winchman, and we all stand down - for the umpteenth time.
This is the cycle of events which has kept us on our toes for watch after watch and it seems to take place about once an hour. It makes it impossible for David to switch off and he is regularly telling the navigator, 'wake me in an hour'. It's very tiring.
Of course, we could bear away and put the kite up no problem, but heading west may not be such a good idea bearing in mind the high-pressure system building ahead of us. Whether this system will herald a return to a light-winds lottery remains to be seen, but seems likely. Inevitably if the wind dies in front the yachts in front will slow down first, giving those behind a chance to make up considerable ground. We must wait and see, trying in the meantime to build up as many miles as possible between ourselves and those who follow on a similar course.
Luckily this situation, which is enough to test anyone's patience, is no longer exacerbated by a dripping, jungle-like sauna down below - rain-soaked clothes hanging everywhere, the limbs of restless sleepers flung over the sides of bunks. Now the back bedroom is almost liveable-in.
Stephen continues his recovery from The Curious Incident of the Fish in the Nightime, although his eye is not a pretty sight. Hopefully he can still see enough to keep us on the right course and in the meantime it should certainly be considered a safety issue - perhaps some kind of fish siren could be rigged up, clear fish goggles donned and the helmet worn by anyone going forwards.
"Wind has gone aft," calls the helm, and the headsail trimmer disappears up front to re-check trim.
"Wind has gone aft another five degrees." Now the flanker seems possible. David stands by the wheel, huffing and puffing, brow furrowed.
"We'll give it five minutes and see. If this holds we'll go for it." Bowman, foredeck guys and snakepit get everything ready for a hoist.
"Wind has come forwards again," notes the yankee winchman, and we all stand down - for the umpteenth time.
This is the cycle of events which has kept us on our toes for watch after watch and it seems to take place about once an hour. It makes it impossible for David to switch off and he is regularly telling the navigator, 'wake me in an hour'. It's very tiring.
Of course, we could bear away and put the kite up no problem, but heading west may not be such a good idea bearing in mind the high-pressure system building ahead of us. Whether this system will herald a return to a light-winds lottery remains to be seen, but seems likely. Inevitably if the wind dies in front the yachts in front will slow down first, giving those behind a chance to make up considerable ground. We must wait and see, trying in the meantime to build up as many miles as possible between ourselves and those who follow on a similar course.
Luckily this situation, which is enough to test anyone's patience, is no longer exacerbated by a dripping, jungle-like sauna down below - rain-soaked clothes hanging everywhere, the limbs of restless sleepers flung over the sides of bunks. Now the back bedroom is almost liveable-in.
Stephen continues his recovery from The Curious Incident of the Fish in the Nightime, although his eye is not a pretty sight. Hopefully he can still see enough to keep us on the right course and in the meantime it should certainly be considered a safety issue - perhaps some kind of fish siren could be rigged up, clear fish goggles donned and the helmet worn by anyone going forwards.
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''
Friday, May 20, 2005
10o23N 33o48W
Well, we are out of the doldrums at least we hope so. I remember writing this in a log on the first leg and they moved up behind us to draw us back in again! We appear to have got through without too much lingering in light airs. Even when it was light we didn't do the bobbing at zero knots and spinning on the spot which is a relief. In fact we have made very good speed averaging about nine knots compared to previous races where the average has been seven knots to this point in the leg. We now have two or three days or so of steady north-easterlies. The yellow headsails are up and it's easy sailing. It leaves little opportunity to make great gains on SAIC La Jolla and BG SPIRIT in first and second place but we are creeping up on them. In the last 24 hours we have crept half a mile closer to SAIC La Jolla but it involved us losing then getting back five miles in that period and it's a similar story with BG SPIRIT. It is clearly frustrating for David who has taken to screaming into the skies - another familiar sight from leg one, though pounding the spinnaker bag is a new one on us. The skies have cleared from the confusion of clouds that blanketed us in the ITCZ a plethora of stars and a near full moon light the deck of BP Explorer and the surrounding sea. When we came on deck for the start of the six until ten watch we looked upward, as we often do, and noticed a bright spot close to the moon, if fact within it's circumference in the dark area. It obviously wasn't a star or planet and as we looked throughout the watch it appeared to orbit about half way round but then, as it reached the upper limb it started to move away. When we came off watch at ten it sat at about 2 o'clock about four times the distance from the moon it had been when it was orbiting. Somewhat perplexed I called my brother on the satellite phone. Unfortunately I'd not taken into consideration the time difference and he was in bed and I'm not sure I had his full attention, oops! When he wakes this morning I'm sure he'll wonder if he dreamt his big brother calling from the middle of the Atlantic Ocean to ask if he knew what was orbiting the moon. Our final conclusion was that is must have been a satellite but, if any friends and family reading this has any information then please let us know.
Today was 'everyone's mate' Major Malhi's birthday and it was chocolate cake and a rousing chorus of 'for he's a jolly good fellow' and not one, but two rounds of Happy Birthday. Happy Birthday Major.
Today was 'everyone's mate' Major Malhi's birthday and it was chocolate cake and a rousing chorus of 'for he's a jolly good fellow' and not one, but two rounds of Happy Birthday. Happy Birthday Major.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Atlantic Ocean
At the prize-giving in Cape Town, BP Explorer scored a hat-trick; not only did we pick up prizes for our second place on Leg 4 and the Cape-to-Cape trophy (fastest boat from Cape Horn to the Cape of Good Hope), but our favourite chef and general all-round good guy, Major Malhi, also collected an award for Best Mate in the Fleet. Our boat song is 'Right Here, Right Now' by Fatboy Slim, and, as the lyrics suggest, 'We've come a long way, through the hard times and the good.' Major was nominated for his unerring friendliness through those 20,000-plus miles of racing. His curries have lent flavour and colour to even the coldest, grey day, he is always funny and cheerful and selflessly agrees to sleep up front so that we do not have to suffer the sounds of his impressive snoring! What more can you ask? Today Major turns 21 again so it is a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY to him from his mates on BP Explorer and no doubt the rest of the fleet too (Major is a household name amongst the other crews).
Giving him the bumps might prove problematic though. After a difficult 24 hours hoisting and dropping spinnakers in the changeable winds of the doldrums, we are now heeled over with the yellow sails up, almost for the first time since Cape Town, and a steadying north-easterly is carrying us towards Boston. After repeated drenchings in the heavy downpours, alternated with unbelievably sweaty kite packs below decks (five alone last night in the 37°C heat), we are hoping that we have finally clawed our way out of the doldrums; we should know if this is the case by the end of the day.
Meanwhile, the boats further east are sailing a little faster, with SAIC La Jolla and BG SPIRIT twelve and seven miles in front respectively. Spirit of Sark are six-and-a-half miles behind and Barclays Adventurer have closed up to just eight miles distant. So we are doing everything we can to regain our lead and hold off those behind.
It is going to be a boozy week - whisky for the Equator, Champagne from Challenge Business and a bottle of Highland Park from Holger's parents, Herr und Frau Bindel, for crossing our track - and (hopefully soon) more bubbly to celebrate our escape into the north-easterlies. This should be almost enough to tide us through to our arrival in the USA, 2,908 miles away. We certainly know that we are on the way; last night Polaris put in an appearance for the first time in seven months, greeted with ooohs and aaahs from the more romantically-minded amongst the crew. It is beginning to feel like we are headed for our home stomping ground once again.
Giving him the bumps might prove problematic though. After a difficult 24 hours hoisting and dropping spinnakers in the changeable winds of the doldrums, we are now heeled over with the yellow sails up, almost for the first time since Cape Town, and a steadying north-easterly is carrying us towards Boston. After repeated drenchings in the heavy downpours, alternated with unbelievably sweaty kite packs below decks (five alone last night in the 37°C heat), we are hoping that we have finally clawed our way out of the doldrums; we should know if this is the case by the end of the day.
Meanwhile, the boats further east are sailing a little faster, with SAIC La Jolla and BG SPIRIT twelve and seven miles in front respectively. Spirit of Sark are six-and-a-half miles behind and Barclays Adventurer have closed up to just eight miles distant. So we are doing everything we can to regain our lead and hold off those behind.
It is going to be a boozy week - whisky for the Equator, Champagne from Challenge Business and a bottle of Highland Park from Holger's parents, Herr und Frau Bindel, for crossing our track - and (hopefully soon) more bubbly to celebrate our escape into the north-easterlies. This should be almost enough to tide us through to our arrival in the USA, 2,908 miles away. We certainly know that we are on the way; last night Polaris put in an appearance for the first time in seven months, greeted with ooohs and aaahs from the more romantically-minded amongst the crew. It is beginning to feel like we are headed for our home stomping ground once again.
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.
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