Race 4 - Day 20
Crew Diary - Race 4 Day 20
08 December

I was “parent” -cooking for the 22 people on board - yesterday with Stephane, who’s on the other watch. We have recipes for each day and a dry bag with all the ingredients. But they don’t always match, so the opportunity to cook creatively is awesome and the surprise welcome by everyone.

After 20 days at sea, as a “legger”, I can appreciate our ability to adapt to pretty much any conditions.

The first week was all about understanding the daily rhythms of the boat, the watch schedule, our daily duties -parents, navigators, entertainment and media, general cleaning, safety checks, engine room and lazarette bilges, other bilges, media and blogs, heads (bathrooms), and spare hands.

That week was also about getting to know everyone on board, my watch buddies especially, being aware that the circumnavigators have their own -often unstated- ways of doing things.

Getting ready for watch in 30 minutes was a challenge for me in part because going through my dark clothes lying over a black sleeping bag cover on a hard-to-reach top bunk at night was very inefficient and frustrating. Then, learning to put on my dry suit, boots and life jacket on a heeled, bouncy boat, gave me a feel of what Houdini and strait jackets were all about.

My adaptation included being seasick for about three days, which I now take as paying my dues for the privilege of being in the Roaring Forties, with the ever-present magnificent albatrosses, the rare appearance of five graceful whales, or the delightful show by dolphins on a rough day.

This region of the ocean is all about big weather and big seas, and we have seen it all. The ocean is always letting us know that it is in charge, that we can be here only as temporary visitors if we are careful, precise, and follow strict safety protocols. Bruises, cuts, bandages, broken teeth and black eyes are all reminders of how vulnerable we are here.

Now, with a few days before reaching Australia, I’m well adjusted, constantly learning and appreciating a lot of the other aspects of what being on a racing sailboat involves: course planning and adjusting, weather, sail choice and trim, packing spinnakers, constant breakdowns and repairs, as well as mastering helming!

I’ve certainly been outside of my comfort zone here, and yet, now all of this is becoming a way of life. I never thought that I would ever wake up at 5:30 in the afternoon to get ready for my watch, sticking my head out of the companion way to check the weather, and considering ten-meter swells to be normal, just another day at sea.

I’m also cherishing sunny days, and appreciating good music, a good conversation, a simple “how are you?”, a smile, a piece of chocolate, a simple meal, or random act of kindness. All of what I take for granted back on land becomes special and even essential here at sea.

Now it's sunny outside, seas are calm, and no one is wearing gloves. The environment is changing, we are getting closer to our destination and to our loved ones. People are beginning to talk about beers, showers and beds, in that order. In a few days I’ll have to begin a new adaptation process, back to “normal” life, and this experience will soon enough become a good story, which will get better with time, as the best ones always do.