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Arcarius of Plymouth - Blog 4 Bermuda to Azores



 Day to day life on board mid Atlantic

Whilst the squalls, storms and doldrums present a series of problems for the Atlantic sailor, the real challenges lay in the survival of day to day life. The alarm rings, ten minutes to my watch, should be plenty of time to get ready, start and complete the journey as the commute is only 20 feet! My small home somehow looked different in the dark, the sun had not yet risen. The night was lively and the waves were still crashing and breaking over the boat. The clothes left at the bottom do the bed for the quick dash to work were now scattered around the saloon and hidden in the dark. Getting out of bed was easy, the next wave decided this and threw me deftly and conveniently out of the bunk onto my wellingtons. These at least were now found. Fumbling around the floor on all fours the rest of the attire was discovered. Gradually edging my way to the bedside, the boat at a 45 degree angle whilst pitching and diving, I find a convenient post that I could cling, to achieve upright status. As I rise, I triumphantly grasp the rest of my clothes and am relieved to be back on my feet. Now only 5 minutes to be on watch and I'm re leaving a tired Skipper, an urgency now adds to my mounting difficulties. I amaze myself, secured against a post I quickly manage to enter one leg of my trousers and for once it is the correct leg. I attempt the next tricky move, placing the other leg into the same pair of trouser.........no wrong leg, I found myself back on the floor, clothes again scattered liberally. This time I opt for the security of the floor and finish dressing there.


Only oilies left to go, but 5 minutes late. I make for the head, progress is slow, wind is howling and the boat is heeling more with every wave that shunts her nearer to the Azores. At last the 1 meter journey complete I reach for my, still wet oilies from the last watch. To my horror they have become a massive piece of Henry Lloyd design comprise 2 sets of trousers and 2 jackets all bound together tightly by the quick to secure and release Velcro strapping. Fighting an almost uncontrollable urge to use fowl language I again make for the floor to unravel this mess and release my oilies.

Will I ever make that watch, 15 minutes late now and my poor Skipper will still offer to make me a cup of tea? He will never get to bed.

 Why do we do it? Cos WE LOVE IT!!!!!


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