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De allerbeste wensen voor 2010! Moge het jullie allen voor de wind gaan!


To everybody who reads my blog:

A very happy 2010. May the winds blow favourably!

200 miles to go

We are 200 miles off the coast of Australia, 14 miles ahead of our
nearest rival and we have been increasing our lead steadily over the
last 12 hours. The temperature of the seawater is pleasant now but
the weather is not too good. Low hanging clouds and the occasional
spatter of rain. The wind is picking up as we are getting closer to
shore and the waves are growing on us. All in all the perfect and
typical conditions of this trip from Capetown. The humidity inside
the accomodation has been the worst so far. The effects of hardly any
dry air and ventilation the cooking smeklls and the fact that 19 people
breathe in the same space are clearly noticable.
After 24 days at sea the smells inside are various and far from
pleasant. We have smelly leather boots smell, smelly rubber boots smell,
the smell of wet lifejackets, unwashed hair mixed with the smell of
sweat and mold. Then there is the undescribeble and definitely
nauseating smell that some people on this boat create when their sweat
reacts with some plastic fibres: the henri lloyd deck shoes are the
worst followed by some sleeping bag liners and thermal underwear.
When it gets wet outside and the forehatch has to remain closed this
cocktail of fragrances gathers momentum as it is carried on thick moist
air. Understandably I am glad to be either asleep or on deck.
As a gift to my nose I regularly open my bag with clean clothes (though
there are fewer and fewer of them left) in order to smell some
arftificial flowers: a very welcome change.
One more day to go if the wind does as it predicted and we will arrive
in the great town of Geraldton with lots of dry warm air. Let's hope
they have showers...

And the world turned pink

We are still deeply stuck in this high pressure area. To liven things up
a bit our steering wheel decided to come off the pedestal which made for
vbery interesting helming: one knee against the axis of the wheel in a
slightly skewed position with one eye on the sail and one on the dials
of the instruments. Not the most accurate way of driving but at least
the wheel stayed in place. In order to fix it we had to take the wheel
off and change to emergency steering. This consists of a short and
inverted tiller placed on top of the rudder stock. It works opposite the
way a tiller works and points in the same directrion as the rudder
blade. This also makes for interesting steering, especially since our
efforts to repair it took enough time to run out of daylight and into
pitch black again. Adding to the fun was the fact that we were
sailing with the big light weight spinaker up and in increasing winds.
Along the way we managed to finmd ourselves in the most spectacular
sunset display ever. The sun was dipping behind the western horizon and
in the process the clouds on the eastern sky turned pink. The pink
clouds created a pink reflection on the waves and the sea turned pink
and blue like a moving caleidoscope. Even the boat and sails turned soft
pink! It lasted for maybe 5 minutes but it was amazing.
Now we are battling 2.5 knots of wind ;-)
Another long 600 miles to go.

Boring!

I never thought it would happen but it did: I got bored while sailing.
We have just ended the most boring of all miles under sail. 800 miles of
reaching with only white sails up (No spinaker, no sail changes), in the
same windspeed from the same direction with the same seastate (apart
from the occasional but regular cluster of small waves) and the same
cloud cover (alto stratus) and the same distance ahead of
Spirit of Australia. Three and a half days of everything the same does
really get me bored. Maybe this is where the real challenge in this race
lies: how to overcome boredom. Despite the boredom I could still focus
on boat speed but it was a lot harder than when things a rapidly
changing.
All sorts of shitty things happen when I get bored. I start analysing
everything. First the current situation: how does the team work and
not work, what sort of characters are there on the boat, how do we
work together how can we improve working together. Al very tiring
stuff. After that I deal with the past and that is even more boring! At
the same time on a more positive not I am designing the interior of my
to be acquired boat and in parallel (if I ever find employment again
and manage to get a mortgage, which is apparantly easier for a house
than for a boat hence the parallel designing) my potential house. There
seems to be a big role in both projects for pipecots, white and blue...
My immediate surroundings does inspire me ;-)
Also when I get bored I have the need to do something: so I went up the
mast to recheck the cracks I found earlier to  ensure they were not
progressing. The wind has been around 20 knots but I managed to goup
in a slightly more quiet spell. Luckily... It was the ride of a
lifetime: I was swinging back and forth, collecting bruises from the
rigging and frantically trying to find grip on other halyards and
stanchions. No harm done eventually but I was dripping with sweat as I
came down. Bloody hell! Anyway the rig was in no worse state and
according to the experts who are safely behind their desks there is no
need to slow down, so we don't.
Last night the weather that we had anticipated already for 2 days
finally arrived. The weirdest thing I have ever come across. The wind
dropped about 10 knots and turned 40 degrees and within several minutes
it picked up and moved back to its old speed and direction, held there
for 15 minutes and then the pattern repeated itself. This lasted for almost 10 hours. Nothing I had ever expected to happen in the middle of the
ocean and really bizarre. It was hard to follow because there was no
moon out and the sky was overcast so there was no light from the stars
either and we had to adjust trim and focus on our course in the pitch
dark. A nice change though from the boring days.
Ahead of us and basically a round us is the last hurdle to Australia: an
impressive high pressure system that does not want to move. We expect 2
days of light airs and unfortunately this system casn make and break our
lead. We are really motivated to finish ahead of our rival Australia and
beat them into their home port.
I am looking forward to finishing the race this time. I can do with a
break from the boat and my new on board family and also very much look
forward to seeing my sister and spending time with her. 700 miles to go!

Southern highs and lows

This time no talk about weather systems but some real highs and a perceived low. On
a quiet morning watch the weather was good enough to do a rig inspection. Despite
the fact that I am not a rock climber and only a starting airacrobat I managed to
find myself in a harness going up the mast. The waves on deck seemes calm and the
boat was moving along smoothly but again this was on deck level. Once 35 m up the
world is different. Every wave you're being catapulted forward and then back and
you need all your limbs and muscles to control your body in order to actually carry
out some work. Tighten a few screws, check for damage (and found some...) and fix
what has come off. After the check I did a few sail repairs on the main again in
climbing harness and luckily only halfway up. By the time I was finished I was
absolutely exhausted. This was most definitely the most exhausting sewing
experience ever and the result is the probably the ugliest! Luckily we need to fix
things and not produce high fashion sails ;-)
I can now say I have been up the mast in the southern ocean! The view was
spectacular by the way. No sign of the ozzies anywhere around us and the boat
looked perfectly small. It must be a similar experience as the moonwalkers had.
The universe (the ocean) is big and our planet (our boat) is only a tiny dot in the
vast universe.
Speaking of our tiny dot: the humidity on board is terrible. Everything that gets
wet, stays wet. Every sleeping session in the sleeping bag ends with damp sweaty
T-shirt/undies, socks don't dry, books get soggy and there is no way of opening a
hatch. There is only one creature that really likes it in here and that is "mold".
My leecloth (that protects me from being propelled from my bunk) seems to be their
favorite hang out. I think it is because that thing is always wet because I live
underneath the only two vetilation points in the boat. Lucky me.
I have discovered this morning that these bunks are only suitable for short
sleeping spells. Yesterday I felt like a rag all of a sudden: massive headache,
nausea, blocked nose and stomach cramps. I skipped dinner and went straight to bed
and my watch ordered me to stay put for an extra 4 hours as nothing was happening
anyway. After a luxurious 12 hour I climbed back out aching all over. I could not
find any position that would not hurt my back or shoulders. Feeling much better
now and with a double lunch in my belly I shall now return to the feared bunk.
Hopefully the mold will stay out my sleeping bag, because that is my real home:
always toasty warm!
Oh and we are in the lead and expanding our lead while all the above was going on.

depressions and celebrations

We have had two days of the most fantastic sailing conditions: a flat
sea and constant wind of 20-25 knots. This resulted in an almost 30
hour spinaker run with constant speeds of about 11-12 knots straight to
Aussieland. As the weather system progressed the wind slowly turned to
our nose and we had another great spell of close hauled sailing. 20
hours of beating but at a slightly open angle (met een knik in de
schoot)and the boat went like a train and like a dream. None of its
usual hard helming work to keep it going straight. With northerly
winds the temperatures have been really good and some of us even managed
to go out in shorts! The sun rises and moon rises were due to the great
visibility and straight unwavy horizon absolutely spectacular.
But is is not called the southern ocean for nothing and the weather can
be very changeable. Last night we got rolled over by a frontal
depression bringing us rain and lots of wind. While putting a reef in
the wind increased to 35 knots  (still on the nose)  and we entered a
busy night. Headsail changes as waves were crashing over us sweeping
some of us a few meters across the foredeck, battling with the wind to
get our headsail down. It was spectacular, tough and believe it or not
great fun! After 12 hours of working our butts off with the enemy in
sight (Australia were a few miles off our bow) the result this morning
was that our sail wardrobe is back to the state it was in before the
wind hit us and we are now looking over our shoulder to find Australia.
Actually over our radar shoulder as they have vanished out of sight
during the morning.
While all of this is going on we had two celebrations in a row: Saint
Nicholas day (5 December) and Finnish independence day (6 December).
Both celebrated in style. We hoisted the finnish flag in place of the
British ensign on the back of the boat, had a crash course Finnish
history and closed the celebrations with army grub, fresh bread,
chocolate and Finnish vodka.
 
The next bit is in Dutch as I cannot be bothered to explain the
traditions around Saint Nicholas day.
 
5 december begon fantastisch met de beste zeilcondities denkbaar.
Terwijl ik in mijn laarzen gleed op weg naar dek stootte mijn teen op
een pakketje: Sinterklaas weet je ook overal te vinden! Een gedichtje,
een chocolade letter en een handpoppetje van het paard van Sinterklaas
in mijn  ene laars en een CD met sinterklaas liedjes in de andere. Een
hele leuke verassing. Ik denk dat de goed heilig man een zwarte Piet in
ons crash bulkhead heeft gestopt, want ik weet niet hoe hij dit anders
met zijn stoomboot of schimmel had kunnen regelen. Het was erg leuk weer
eens Sinterklaas te vieren (ook al viel dat 's avonds letterlijk in het
water) na drie jaar Londen zonder de gebruikelijke gezelligheid. Ik heb
een gedicht voor de boot gemaakt en hel;aas waren de chocolade letter s
niet op tijd geleverd in Kaapstad maar dat mocht de pret niet drukken.
Iedereen was geintrigeerd door de folklore en de handpoppetjes van sint
piet en schimmel kwamen goed van pas om eea uit te leggen. Om 2 uur 's
nachts toch nog warme chocolademelk en kruidnoten genoten na de
avonturen op het voordek. Nu enigzins uitgeput (net als na "normale
sinterklaas") maar dan van slaapgebrek enm fysiek inspanning en niet de
gebruikelijke kater. Dankje Sinterklaasje!
 
Back to realitty: last night we received a pan pan message from the
Search and Rescue unit oif the Ayustralian navy: be on the lookout for a
trimaran with 3 persons on board. They were last reported 600 miles
south of us and have not recieved their destination (Fremantle from Cape
town ) in time. Just shows how the seas can influence our plans and
lives. Let's hope they are OK and have only fallen off the
communaction world and not the real world.

3 December

After a cold and then lovely warm shower I managed to do some reflection
today. Hair clean, body refreshed, a clean set of thermals and a cleared
up mind. The whale incident earlier this week, which left us unharmed
luckily,  made me realise how fragile our existence is out here in the
southern ocean. We are more than a thousand miles away from human
civilisation and all the benefits and ease that that brings especially
when you break equipment or body parts. Out here there is not the
smallest sign of the big cities, office blocks, IT systems, shanty
towns, shopping malls, holiday resorts , traffic jams, wealth, poverty,
war and natural disaster that hide behind the horizon. Even the other
competitors and the possible adventurer sailing the same seas are
invisible to us and mere figments of imagination fed to us via satellite
communication. There is no trace of airliners crossing our path high
above us nor any shipping that will find us on its route. There is
nothing human here except us 19 people on a 68ft moving and hopefully
under all circumstances completely self supporting island and the boat
hook we lost this afternoon. Our world is small and vast at the same
time. The weather and sea state and course to steer determine our daily
routines. I think that if it wasn’t for the fact that we have these
routines and if we did not have to focus on the race we might lose
ourselves out here and get stuck between the horizons.
This is a special place, peaceful, desolate and as remote as the moon
(which came up beautifully yellow again this evening) and I  am enjoying
every second that I am here.
Unfortunately the job at hand entails trying to get through here as
quickly as possible or at least quicker than the competition and I have
to say that this is the only time I regret to be racing instead of
cruising.

We hit a whale

Luckily no serious damage has been detected and since our encounter with
the whale's tail we only slowed down during the night. At first light
and after losing some miles to the competition :-( we put the spinaker
back up for a cath up race to get some of the points at the scoring
gate. All looked pretty grim for some time with us in 4th place for the
gate which would mean zero points for TF again but... 30 minutes ago we
crossed the line in 2nd place : so finally we have scored some gate
points. Two to be exact.
The course we are sailing is quite demanding on the driver. We have a
poled out headsail and have been pushing against a strong current which
creates short choppy waves. The result is that the boat does not start
to glide and surf when the pressure in the sasils increases and it
feels like a tonne of bricks in a tumble dryer. After a series of
driving sessions of 3 and a half hours in total I was absolutely
exhausted and frustrated. It would be so nice to be sailing a big
Cracklin' Rosie (light, well powered and responsive) instead of the
school bus!
Anyway, the two points are a good morale booster despite the fact that
morale on board is actually very good. This team is special and I am
very glad that I am part of it. I am curious to find out how our new
skipper is going to fit in and contribute. Sad to see our current one
leave. Despite his sometimes very foul moods he is a great sailor and we
all have the highest regard for his way of strategising and plotting and
his ability to make this boat go fast and drive our team.
In case you wonder why there are so many typing errors: typing on a
heeling and in this case rolling boat and in the dark is quite
difficult. It is now a quarter to one in the night and I am going to
have some sleep for thje next 2.5 hours so this is my rant for today. Oh
and we are sailing in warm weather with a bit of rain, so all these
stories about the Southern Ocean being cold are very one sided.
Cheerio!