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Great Escape of Southampton - Day 18



Day 18

We have now safely arrived in St Lucia and results will be issued in time – but we are about 7th out of 22 in class…………all depends on handicap.  But what do we care……………time for a beer!

An attempt at poetry is attached to outline some of the main happenings on our journey…………..like any tall fishing story our journey here will become more extraordinary with each telling.

All that is left to do is for us, the crew, to thank Emily our skipper, and First Mate Stephen for taking such good and safe care of the boat and us. 

Thank you ever so much and safe sailing.

 

Graham, John, Gregorio, Jan, Kaare and David

 

 

GREAT ESCAPE – ARC 2012 REPRISE

It was on a bright November morn,

Twenty fifth was the date.

South westerly’s of gale force nine,

The ARC, it started late!

Another two days on…and then,

Two hundred boats or more,

Jostled for position,

Off the crowded Las Palmas shore.

The gun went off, the line was crossed

And we made our Great Escape!  

 

In charge are Em and Stephen,

Our Skipper and First Mate,

Their seaworthy credentials,

Are indisputably first rate.

Two Norges and two Anglos

Promise a heady mix,

A feisty Scot y un Espanyol

Complete the crew of six.

Each one a lazy ne’er do well

And a drunken reprobate.

 

The fleet, as one, all head due south,

In search of warmer climes

The racing crews are gone from view,

As those with slower times.

Within three days, we’re on our own,

A thought that makes us shudder,

But helming proves quite popular

As we compete to take the rudder.

But scheduled tasks to cook and wash

Are less attractive to us Maritimes.

 

Six metre waves and 30 knot winds

Define early days on deck,

Gusting up to gale force eight,

Make some below a wreck,

Being sick at sea is hard to bear,

Like childbirth gone full term  

Thank God for flushing heads that work

And plasters of Scopaderm.

While those more fit, haul ropes, winch sails

With the strength of ogre Shrek. 

 

Day seven was a sea change day,

It began well enough.

With winds of up to 30 knot,

We headed directly south.

At ten at night a tumultuous squall

Of more than 40 knot

Crash gybe ensued with hullabaloo,

Brought Skipper from her cot.

A shell shocked crew made safe the sails

While one below, slept through the lot! 

 

The ‘roller coaster’ storm is folklore,

The helm blinded by its might,

 Navigation aids became invisible,

And sails disappeared from sight.

Man beat the sea with naval nous,

Secure life lines saved the man.

The non-sought reward, three windless days,

And time to build a tan.

Time to catch a kingfish and a dorado in its prime,

Five lures are also taken, so we know who won the fight!

 

Becalmed in mid Atlantic, the planet shows its worth,

With pods of leaping dolphins and flying fish galore.

Shearwaters and Arctic terns searching for a rest

A lonesome skua and lost pintail, far away from shore.  

As daylight fades and evening comes

Bioluminescent jellyfish set the sea aglow.

Jupiter lights up the moonless sky,

Pleiades and Orion set astral juices flow

Shooting stars like firework shows

As twin-lit super tanker Carla crossed our fore?

 

Equipment failures test the crew,

 One head was lost, those aft then had to share,

Overheating of the AC trip switch

Rendered the supply beyond repair!

Our water maker was now no use

Washing in salt water was introduced

Our prop shaft then developed a whine,

Diving inspections, no fault produced

Decision taken, whine will abate……it did,

As we are told to proceed with care!

   

Two thousand, seven hundred and twenty miles are past,

We espy St Lucia’s cape,

Seventeen days press-ganged labour,

We have survived every kind of scrape,

Of lost head, flooded bunks,

Sea sickness and fire,

No generator, no water maker,

All memories dire!

But we’ve done our time upon the brine,

All walk free from the Great Escape.

 

David Anderson

 

 

 

 

                                                                            

 




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