Crew Blog

Moonlight and blown spinnakers

27 September 2007

It’s easy to see the on/off nature of the watch rota as monotonous but anyone who has sailed the Atlantic knows that each one brings a different array of activities and surprises with, yes, the mundane – constant trimming of the spinnaker, ‘easing grinding, easing grinding’; the beautiful – the ever differing and breathtaking sunsets and sun rises; but also the dramatic.

In the early hours Wednesday, the gut wrenching ‘all hands on deck’ cry rang out, preceded by the most enormous and sickening crash. And as we spilled out on deck in strong winds and a merciless sea, our worst fears were realised. We had blown the spinnaker. 

This was a far cry from a few days earlier at the race start in La Rochelle when ten Clippers, each one weighing over forty tonnes, danced and pirouetted delicately and gracefully around the start-markers in the beautiful waters off the French coast. These beasts came within a few feet of each other as they contested the quickest start and set off across the cavernous and ominous waters of the Biscay.

And as (at the time of writing) we pass down the coast of Portugal, just south of Lisbon, the change in temperature is noticeable with night watches requiring less layers and daytime attire more scant.

We were gob-smacked at the number of responses to our first blog when we had the opportunity to surf the net in La Rochelle – sadly we won’t have access again until Salvador but we all look forward to that. One wag suggested Russ’s cooking may not be up to scratch but this is not the case; his meals are second to none and their presentation would put Gordon Ramsey to shame.  The fact that Russ is six-foot-two and built like a masonry lavatory has nothing to do with how we respond to his cooking.

So, the vision of the spinnaker silhouetted by the full moon and licking the sky like an enormous white flame could have been described as spectacular if it hadn’t have been so devastating.  Each of us drew a heavy sigh as we saw one of the most important tools to winning this race flap and rip through the sky with a deafening scream.

So we set to task trying to pull in by hand what was left of the spinnaker.  Will Little on the foredeck stood far larger than his eighteen years and led the almost impossible task of pulling in by hand a sail which had earlier been held by winches. Inch by inch we heaved and very, very slowly lowered the remnants below deck for assessment. Through all this, Skipper Ben was a rock, leading us to turn chaos into order and get the boat up and racing as quickly as possible.

The whole episode quickly showed how the crew of Liverpool 08 have come together to work as a finely tuned unit.  Our thanks now go to Tiina and Paul Scannell who are working tirelessly below deck to repair and rebuild the spinnaker as we continue in the race to Brazil.

Ian Tomo