4th December 0300 UTC
The days have been passing pleasantly uneventful, blissfully sunny, each
day a little warmer, no boats to be seen, wind some days and not others.
Andy and I have become quite philosophical about it all as we drop
steadily to the very back of the fleet, being one of the smallest boats.
Then came yesterday. More happened than in the rest of the week put
together. I woke and poked my head out on deck at 9 to check whether
dress code for the day would be shorts and T-shirt or just shorts. There
were three boats in sight?. A tanker steaming past on the horizon, a yacht
a few miles off and another under full sail rapidly catching us up. The
African Queen, as it turned out to be, was a 50ft sloop with two head
sails and main out, en route from Phuket in Thailand to Fort Lauderdale in
Florida. After a sociable chat over the VHF about fishing and which sails
to set, we agreed a radio rendez-vous with two others at 1800 UTC so that
we could check our SSB radio which has not seemed to be quite delivering
the power it might. We have been unable to report our position at the ARC
midday roll call for the past three days.
The sociable theme for the day continued. At midday we had a conversation
with Quasar IV, an ARC yacht and discussed their radio set up to see what
tweaks we might do. We agreed a 9pm UTC radio rendez vous. Then at 3pm
Bertie arrived to join the ships company.
Bertie was an Egret who didn?t know right from left and took a wrong turn
when flying from one Cape Verde Island to another. The result was he (or
she ? we don?t know if Bertie was short for Egbert or Ethelbert) decided
that after 200 miles on the wing and no land in sight a rest was called
for. Being a curious bird, after strolling the decks for a while, Bertie
decided to pop down the fore hatch into the forehead cabin and look for
food. The search extended through the forecabin, the main cabin, the
food lockers on the starboard side (but all the food was wrapped), the
chart table, the galley sink and finally right inside the crockery locker
in the galley. In spite of an offer of sardines, Bertie was not amused and
sulked off to the forecabin again, having first visited the after cabin
and left his (or her) trade mark?.
At 5pm (happy hour), Andy and I were sitting reflecting on the day over
our rum and orange, and agreed that hoisting the mainsail as well as the
poled out two head sails had proved a very good thing, that Bertie was a
beautiful bird and wouldn't it be nice talking to some others after so
long at sea. We were also debating whether or not we should consider
reducing sail for the night as the wind was strengthening significantly -
when the decision was made for us. With very little drama, the Yankee
came down, blew out, the pole broke and left the sail trailing in the
water down the leeward side. During the ensuing battle to secure the sail
on deck and recover the pole we gibed. The bimini was wrenched from its
track on the starboard side by the main sheet?.ughhhhh !
Time to get the mainsail down. Nothing is easy in a stiff breeze and
things go wrong in threes?.. The main would not come down ? a piece of
broken slider was blocking the track. After 5 minutes of fiddling about
up the mast with a screw driver, sail flapping and boat rolling like
crazy, it finally came down.
It was now dark, way past dinner time, and Bertie, having come out on deck
to watch the entertainment, had gone back to bed in the forecabin. I
cooked the dinner, consoling myself with a wee dram of Talisker, as we had
to come to a decision about Bertie. Not eating, far from any water where
his (or her) long legs could reach the bottom (an egret is a wader), the
future looked a grim slow death by starvation over several days - a few
days of hopping about for a bit, pooing every where of course, before
slumping in a heap somewhere. Well I have put so many very sick and
poorly chickens out of their misery I felt reluctantly duty bound to see
to Bertie.
Bertie is no more, we missed our rendez vous and I now sit at the chart
table as we roll along considering tomorrow?s agenda?.
The embarrassing (but good) news is that the Yankee came down because the
(unseized) shackle on the halyard came undone?A hmmm? It looks like a trip
up the mast to fetch the halyard down and the pop rivet gun to fix the
pole will be the order of the day. I hope the wind drops a bit?.I never
thought I would be saying that.
Iain