Race 7 - Day 5
Crew Diary - ​Oh! my word
28 February

"Oh! my word” is a phrase that gets used repeatedly on the boat. Never has it meant so much since hearing my niece Stephanie use it in the Kruger Park game reserve, when the gods dumped half a metre of rain on us, as we slept in a tent during a cyclone, in twelve short hours. We woke within an inch of being flooded as the rivers burst their banks. We watched thatched roofs of houses float past Skukuza camp and fridges getting lodged in trees. The river became half a kilometre wide and all the while Stephanie chanted, “Oh! my word”, at almost every new thing she witnessed. Watermarks on huts at roof level, uprooted trees, sodden books of history. The vibration of the bridges that normally spanned sandy riverbeds now trying to stand up to the torrents that raged in their valleys. And now… a first for me, dolphins that leave their mark by way of bioluminescent trails of their shapes and direction of swimming, playing for a long while, both sides of the good ship Dare To Lead. We are now becoming adept and recognising their arrival as they surface to breath with their distinctive powerful puffs. Never have I witnessed a spectacle this wished for, having heard tales, told thereof, by Guy’s Julie and others. No description could do the scene justice.

Sea birds have been seen diving like gannet, but this time catching airborne flying fish. Schools of fish leap out simultaneously and fly off in a group, crash diving in a flurry of silvery splashes. We got to witness a whale at close quarters, estimated at half the length of our yacht. We crept up to it on a zephyr of a breeze and watched it as it wallowed on the surface and blew repeatedly off the bow, only to come alongside soon after just shy of the surface, oddly with an intense sparkly blue mouth, possibly a trick of light. It blew many times more off the stern at around two hundred and fifty metres, after again surfacing. Two identities have been assigned so far, blue and hump-backed, I doubt either is correct as the whale was not big enough for either.

We like to think of ourselves as being closest to the finish on this upwind leg, rather than face the reality of our situation. Pushing hard and chasing down competitors is our favourite thing to do and we continue to try and run them all down.

Cherie has joined the crew as onboard video reporter and is going round the world on a variety of competition’s vessels. She’s great fun, and has an African history, and stories to tell of her childhood in Zimbabwe. Knowing the places, she speaks of, brings back memories of wonderful holidays spent if this beautiful country. We shared green bananas that looked short and fat. (plantains? Anyone). They tasted of potatoes we agreed, and once that thought was lodged in place our heads, easier to eat. Both of us eventually abandoned our fruit to Neptune in the end. When ripe they taste delicious out-competing the more familiar long, slightly curved hybrid we’re more used to, at home.

We’ll try and get back for your birthday Mum but doubt we will at the rate we’re sailing. Still this race provides an interesting, strategic exercise in skill and luck.

More lazy days spent at sea to come, interleaved with bursts of energy and respect for nature.