Race 3 - Day 16
Crew Diary - Race 3, Day 16
07 November
A Damp Squid
This morning we shook out a reef to discover our mainsail had been vandalised. The scourge of the North Atlantic – the flying fish – has in the South Atlantic has been replaced by the far more sinister flying squid. To be fair, no one has ever seen these mid-air, but they appear on deck and it is easier on our nerves to assume they fly rather than climb. One of these creatures made its way into the bunt of the reefed mainsail and, to borrow a phrase from Mike Miller, was marmalised. The result is a dark brown ink stain right across the centre of the main, or as we have come to think of it – a Squid Mark.
Yesterday we changed the clocks here on CV31. We have a straightforward system to move the clocks forward, on the appointed day, 12.30 lunchtime becomes 13.30, and the result is our two midday watches lose half an hour each. Simple enough in theory. The interesting bit is how this process is triggered. Who gets to play Dr Who? Initially, this was Mike Miller, but in recent weeks Dan and I have started to seize control of the process. There is a specific and peculiar pleasure that comes from watching the sunrise, looking at your watch and deciding “I don’t think this is quite right. All change!”. Obviously, there are celestial limits on how often one can indulge this pleasure, so I find myself eagerly watching the sunrise and set, trying to beat Mike and Dan to the call.
We have now had a few of these clock changes since Punta and should be in Cape Town within 24 hours (touch wood). Night watch conversation has naturally turned towards what people are looking forward to and highlights from the crew so far (beyond the usual beer, bath, sleep) include:
Personally, I am looking forward to seeing my sister and friend Leo who are coming out, steak and eggs, and sleep.
p.s. I am sorry to report that David Attenborough is a liar. All that chat on Blue Planet about the wandering albatross flying majestically round the world never stopping, never landing, indefinitely airborne. They just sit there on the waves like bloody ducks in Victoria Park! I may never trust anyone ever again.