Race 8 - Day 9
Crew Diary - Race 8 Day 9: Sanya to Qingdao
13 March
Hello sailors!
So, before I get to the actual content of my blog, a little hot off the press update on the joys of sailing the Taiwanese Sea. Or 'fishing boat bingo', as I like to call it.
I was happily snoozing in my high side bunk yesterday evening, when the noises on deck started to change. After a while you pick up what 'normal' noises are: bangs, laughs, shouts over the waves, and what are 'oh oh' noises like: extra loud bangs when the halyard breaks, shout for hands on deck etc. Conversation seemed a bit more urgent, and then I heard Phil say in a voice that was more strained than usual, "engine ON!". I looked through my porthole into the darkness, and saw Sarah's face, lit up by a bright bright flashing light that we don't have on our deck, looking very concerned (translate: looking in terror), and Jayne's voice going 'holy sh**, holy sh**, holy sh**'. Scrambling out of my bunk, we saw a fishing trawler, about 3 feet away from our boat, rounding us, with many Chinese men shouting at us. Jack Watch, who was down below, naturally thought these were the pirates we had been warned about, and our anti-piracy training we had received from Mark Light in Airlie immediately kicked in. We put on our life jackets, and scrambled on deck, ready to protect our GREAT Britain boat. We had gotten the urgency bit right, but the preparation bit was clearly lacking: Richard was wearing his short shorts, ready to lob is plastic flip flop at the invaders, I was barefoot, and was preparing our chief anti piracy device, our oversized frying pan, and Skipper Dave was rocking the underpants and life jacket look. We must have been a scary sight.
It turned out that we weren't being entered however, they merely wanted us to steer clear of their nets. After the initial shock wore off at a near collision, we followed them as they guided us around their nets, and Jack Watch returned down below, content that they had done their utmost to support the calm and collected Union Watch, who managed this madness up on deck. ('Calm and collected', for all but one pint sized sailor who was ready to jump ship :))
In the last 5 months, I've learned that being on this boat is all about redundancy. Two helming stations, to move to the high side, and in case one breaks, two of each halyard, again, in case of breakage. Two ways to inflate your life jacket etc. etc. After 15000 odd miles sailed, I have learned that this applies to personal kit as well:
Two torches in case one runs out of battery, two knives in case you lend your good one to somebody in Fremantle and that somebody loses it (Krishna, it was Krishna), two toothbrushes in case you lose one on the way to the helm, two pairs of deck shoes in case one gets co-opted into the Unicef bag, two pairs of foulies in case you are seasick in an unfortunate way and the collar smells slightly of vomit, two eye masks in case somebody (that would be Phil) has subtly 'borrowed' one without the hope of return, two pairs of salopettes in case one rips when you're up the mast, two bunks in case one is on the high side and too hard to sleep in...you get the idea!
Ok, that last bunk is not true, but all the other ones have definitely been needed. However, two pairs of deck shoes may not even be enough! Whilst my fancy Chinese sailing shoes (or 'soviet looking trainers') were in the Unicef bag, I lost one of my crocs over the side whilst enthusiastically trying to tie a sail tie around the tack of the Code 2 while it was under the boat. JP, your croc! I am so sorry, I will return something equally or more amazing to you in Liverpool, I promise. So I'm down to one shoe, except for flip flops and sailing boots, but I have high hopes for the raffle at lunch time.
UPDATE: Since this was written, I have now also lost one of my Chinese deck shoes up the mast while trying to get the Code 1 back down. Kitemares giveth and kitemares taketh away. Luckily, I lost one left and one right shoe, so I've been walking around Sanya and the deck with odd shoes. I'm still in the mourning phase I think, because I did not want to buy new shoes in Sanya.
Walking on deck is also all about preparation. Jayne says I look like i'm going on a 3-day hike, as I have various bits and pieces strapped to my life jacket: My hat, my water bottle, my torch, a knife, some tape, and lately also my toothbrush in my knife pocket, as well as a sewing kit handy to help Jayne out with the holes in her shorts. When the sea state gets rough, you never know what you might need (90% of the time, it's tape or your toothbrush. I find dental hygiene is the only part of hygiene that has not taken a major hit on this boat.
The last couple of days the weather was so rough, and we were all feeling a bit queasy, that every little movement on the boat is something you try to minimise. I was on deck brushing my teeth, when another crew member desperately needed toothbrush and toothpaste. Well, crew love is true love, so I am here to tell you that Jayne and I now share a toothbrush.
Sending all our love to our families, friends and GREAT crew supporters,
With any luck in 3 days time we'll be hollering at you from Qingdao!
Luise for the GREAT crew