Hello Team,
This leg has been hard for me. Out of the four times I have crossed this ocean, I have found this the hardest crossing. It’s not been because the weather has been the most challenging in terms of severity. The section between Japan and ‘Highway 45’ was grey, leaden, overcast, cold and generally mood sapping. The wind direction gave no easy options tactically, just the least worse of many poor ones. It’s not been the duration, last race we took 37 days, that’s a long time in this vast ocean.
As many of you are aware, this leg is a pilgrimage for me, and maybe knowing it’s the last time I am going to tread this way, it was done with a heavy heart, and to seek closure, that actually might never occur. It’s been profoundly reflective, and some is suitable for sharing and some is private, that has made this incredibly emotional.
This leg brings with it, not just for me but for many, memories of two lovely people, both lost too early, from within the Clipper Race family.
First we passed through Gate ‘Sunshine’, named after Chrissie (Jackson) who passed away with cancer, from the ‘Visit Seattle’ crew on the 2017-18 edition. A large character for such as small person, who brought a complete ray of sunshine to all those who met her. The sort of person who walking down the road, if she saw a worm on the pavement would pick it gently up and place it on the nearest patch of earth. To use Mark Light’s words, “Thanks Chrissie for enriching our lives so much.” We passed through MG 'Sunshine', under the Code 1, with the moonlight reflecting off a smooth sea and the stars shining. A very fitting moment to remember Chrissie. Sending fond hugs to Toni (Wilson) and Nikki (Henderson).
The second is Sarah (Young), who went overboard, late on the 1 April, 2016 approximately 950nm, east north east of Tokyo, in the harshest of weather that the North Pacific can deliver. The events that night will never be forgotten, by those of us who were there on board and those linked to the race, be it as skippers/crew on other boats, supporters, family or those working in the Race Office. On deck, two days later, as Lizzie and I prepared to lay Sarah to rest, in this beautiful and cruellest of oceans, it snowed; It gave me solace, my thoughts were it was angel dust, which was fitting for a lady, who was one, to so many people.
The events that night are now deeply ingrained into my sailing DNA and will never leave me.
At the 23:00hrs local time, on the 1 April, at watch change over, we gathered in the cockpit and held a short memorial service for Sarah. It was a moonless night, but the sky was alive with stars. We reflected on how privileged we are to be able to indulge in this pursuit. We took time to think of all the things we should have told people that we can no longer tell. We remembered that we come this way but once, and that life can change in an instant.
Big hugs Lizzy, Priscilla and all the IcorCoal crew on CV21 that night. Sarah, rest in peace, and although I will not sail by to say ‘hi’ again, you’re never forgotten by so many.
We must also not forget that each and everyone of us who embark on this amazing quest did so voluntary, knowing it was hard and accepting the risks that are involved. For some, those known risks made its appeal even more, such is the way of humans, wishing to test their fragile ability against the unforgiving power of nature.
David (UTC -10)