Race 9 - Day 22
Crew Diary - Race 9: Qingdao to Seattle
14 April

'A night in the North Pacific' or 'Attempting to recreate the inner monologue of the longest 40 minutes of my life'

Ok, it's pitch black, the wind is howling, the massive waves are foaming, fighting, breaking over the boat. John and Nic have done more than their stint on the helm. Here I go.

Helming a Clipper 70 down 14m waves in 50 knots of winds in complete darkness is much like going down a steep, moguled ski slope at full speed in the middle of the night (which no one in their right mind would ever do!) So I do now what I would do then: Get low, grit my teeth, make sure my knees are soft like butter and hope to god that I don't hit a rock...

Ok, I've got the wheel. I can barely see with all the spray. But I can see shapes either side of the boat. Oh good, those shapes are massive towering waves. That's helpful. Ignore, focus on staying on course.

A quick glance at the instruments, trying to take in seven numbers at a time. True wind speed: 57 knots. Hmm, that's a lot. Breathe. Apparent wind speed: 48 knots. That's less than 57, that's good. Apparent wind angle, 130. Not crash gybing yet, also good. Course over ground: 110. Nic said stay between 90 and 120 on compass, so all good. Compass: All clear. GPS speed: Just went from 8 to 18 knots. Ok, I'll strike that one of my list to check, I really don't care.

Look up! Make sure that in the split second that I have taken to check all this, the boat hasn't done anything. I can feel the bow moving into the wind! Ok, here comes a wave. Ok, I can hear it coming from the back, it's a big one. Stay calm, grip the wheel. Hold steady. I can feel the stern buck up like a bronco at a country fair as we hit the top of the wave and start going down. “Oh good, the bow of the boat is now a solid 5 to 10 meters below where I am standing at the stern, we are literally just pointing DOWN. That's helpful.

We're going so fast, hold it steady!!

I've never been more acutely aware of the responsibility for 17 other people that are currently depending on me not losing control of this boat as we hurtle down the biggest wave I have ever seen. Keep holding it, you can do this! Can you? Yes!! Ok, so fast, so fast, so fast, too fast, too fast, too fast, just keep watching the compass to make sure you're going straight.

True wind speed: 72 knots. Why do I keep checking it?! Nothing but a number, hold it straight. Ok, out of that wave. Phew. How long has it been? Ah, it's been all but two minutes. Hmm, this is not good. I wonder if anything else in life is this terrifying. What about having kids? If it is, I'm definitely not doing it.

“WELL DONE” That was Nic yelling over from the other side. Ok, I can do this. Next wave, let's move!

Right, I've got the hang of these big surfing waves now, I think. But these little ones from the wrong direction are so mean. Oh no, I can see nothing but white foam out of the corner of my eyes. No, no, there's one coming from starboard, this is not going to be pretty...WHAM. The wall of water has just come over me and hit me like a train.

Ouch, where am I? Alright, knocked to the back of the helming station, I think my leg is still attached, but it definitely hurts. No time, find the helm again through the water masses! Spit out salt water to avoid suffocation! Ok, got the wheel. Look at the compass, are we still ok?! Compass pinnacle has shut!! Quick, open it!! Icy wet hands in icy wet gloves. Quick flick, still at 110 degrees. Ok, we're good. Holding it steady. Mental note to check leg at later point

Where is Nic? Quick glance, he's shaking some water off him at the low side helm. I wonder what his internal monologue is when he helms. Maybe the theme song to some badass movie? Look in the pit, Max is still there. He seems to have taken a tumble. Can't worry about it, focus on the helm!

Next wave, surfing down, wow, this is kind of fun! Well, fun if you take away the terror. 26.7 knots GPS speed. No time, focus! The wave is trying to push you downwind. Throw your body weight behind the wheel and bring it back. Why don't you have more body weight?! Keep holding it. Arrrrrrgghhhh. Ok, back on course.

After a further 38 minutes of this, I collapsed into a happy, exhilarated, salty, wet lump of exhaustion in the pit.

With three days perspective, I can honestly say that I feel so humbled, and still pretty terrified when I think back on those conditions. But water no longer tips out of my boots when putting them back on, and my gal-pal John Worby and I are about to make some eggs and bacon. So, all is well on the good ship GREAT Britain.

Niclas, Ray, John Worby and Max: You guys are legends, and I feel so lucky to have gone through this storm with you and came out the other side with nothing but minor bruises :)

Lots of love to our family friends and supporters,
Luise

P.S. Mutti, I'm really fine!