A day of contrasting fortunes!
You don't see whales everyday at sea, and the one we saw this morning was Alex's first, and only the third whale that Cleone has spied since leaving UK. Unfortunately, photographing a grey mass that appears briefly out of the sea and then re-submerges is not easy, and we are having difficulty deciding what type of whale it was. Nevertheless, it was an exciting moment. The beast was only a hundred metres or so from Cleone, and seemed to be about the same size as the boat. She or he was totally uninterested in us, and merely seemed to be cruising by. But our friends on La Boheme, at that stage some five miles ahead of us, had radioed us to report a similar sighting half an hour or so before, so we were hoping to see something, and were not disappointed. Maybe they are territorial, or maybe it was a good place for him to feed.
That apart, once we had cleared Bali, yesterday was a great day for sailing. During the quiet morning, we set the Ghoster low on the Spinnaker Pole, and once we had also hoisted the Mizzen Staysail, our speed rose to a respectable five knots or so. And by mid afternoon, the breeze had freshened slightly, and we were bowling along at seven knots or so, with the wind on our beam. The Skipper thought that a slight west-going current might have been assisting us, but it was exhilarating stuff. We had set off early, but not before La Boheme, and during the day we could see other World ARC yachts astern of us, and gradually overhauling us. Baccalieu was first, but she was motor-sailing with full mainsail and yankee; the breeze at that stage was not enough to give a heavyweight like her much to work on. Next was Faraway, much lighter and in a freshening breeze. Her large orange spinnaker was set very shy, and as she streamed passed in our lee we could see Luis was flying it as an asymmetric on a short pole in the bow. By evening, Talulah Ruby's tri-light was showing astern, first green and then red as she, too, passed by us to leeward. And behind her again was Strega, who I am happy to say, took most of the night to overhaul us. She is still just in sight as I write.
Towards evening, because of the difficulties of sail-handling in the dark, as usual we thought carefully about our sail plan. Last Night, conditions for the light-weight (and 25-years old) Ghoster were marginal, so just before supper, the Skipper decreed that it should be furled. This takes two men, and quite a lot of effort - it may be light-weight, but there is a lot of it to gather. The Skipper had noticed that the leech had been flapping, despite that the sail had been well sheeted home for the conditions. So it was no real surprise that, as we took the sail in, it peeled apart down almost the full length of the luff. It is well beyond us to repair it, and probably it is beyond any repair. So the dear old skipper is left with another expensive dilemma; whether to replace it, and what with (and if he decides that, maybe, a proper asymmetric spinnaker is the answer, then what colour scheme will he go for?).
Come the morning's radio schedule, we were able to check all the positions, and to find out the fleet's intentions. Christmas Island (not the more famous one which we Brits irradiated back in the 50s with our nuclear tests) lies directly on our Rhumb Line, and about half the fleet are intending to stop there for a day or so. We shall probably push on directly to Cocos, otherwise we will not arrive there before our intended departure date! Hopefully the Skipper will make up his mind soon as to whether we will leave this island to port or starboard; at the moment our intended track lies straight through the Island! Hopefully it won't prove a real dilemma, it looks pretty straightforward to me.
An excellent Alex-cooked supper last night has set the tone and standard for this leg. There is plenty of beer in the fridge and even the gloomiest of pundits predict there is enough to last us to Mauritius and beyond. Chris appears to be asleep in his bunk, but is probably (and hopefully) thinking deep thoughts about tonight's menu - he's duty cook. The Skipper is pondering charts, and Alex is steering Cleone in a decent breeze and bright sunshine at around seven knots down the Rhumb Line. What more could we ask for?
All well with us, and best wishes to everyone,
James, Norfy (Chris) and Alex