Race 3 - Day 7
Crew Diary - Race 3, Day 7
29 October
Of Penguins and Icebergs
A few days ago we’re all languishing in conditions anything but like the roaring forties reputation. Our good ship Dare To Lead was dragging her code across the ocean like a young maiden walking through a wet field and soaking her petticoats leaving a trail of champagne effervescence as she skipped and rolled on the waves. And then the mighty ocean roared…
Me at the helm as the wind rose rapidly past 27 knots was too much for me to stop the oscillation of the kite out in front. The waves had built and Dare To Lead was too quick pivoting at the tops of each. Skipper popped up and asked whether I was OK, and I answered, “No!” Dario quickly came to my aid at the helm and did an amazing job through the dropping of the code and subsequently all sails. Skipper, Mate, Stuart and Graeme and others unseen or down below hung and swung on the letterbox drop until the wind finally relented its grasp of the Dacron. One, two, three reefs and with none left the main was wrestled to the deck and lashed to the boom.
(Boom Lashed to Deck, see Skipper Guy Waites blog for more info)
Running along under bare poles, a wind speed of 76 knots was reached. Hughes coached me through my fear the next morning and got me back in the saddle at the helm with 58 – 62 knots of wind in a now fairly lumpy sea with the associated whistling wind in the rigging. Confidence returned with the steering but healthy respect remains. Getting to sleep, off watch, is remarkably easy even with the banging and crashing and being slapped about by waves intent on a punching bout. I was knocked over and hit my head on the helm cage, luckily breaking the impact as I led with my butt.
The days and nights now require an expletive to adequately describe the sucking of heat that the antarctic achieves. Getting in and out of waterproof socks, four layers and finally the rebirthing of your head from inside the gore-Tex outer smock, which now it seems a normal way of dressing.
Recovery has been slow with repairs needed to the reefing lines, two of which had chafed through and a number of broken battens required replacing. The wind is now gusting up and down with remarkable ease.
The galley continues to churn out bread and warming meals to keep the crew fueled. None of us has lost our sense of humour and are all back in the game with Cape Town our goal.
Though close I suspect, not close enough for penguins and icebergs … yet. (There will always be Boulder’s beach).