This is my first attempt at a blog, but given that
we are now at about the half way point on the final leg I feel that time is
running out. The usual caveat applies - thanks to Peter, Carol, Ian,
Richard and Louis for their assistance in preparing this blog. I am the
author but they are responsible for any mistakes or errors. Also a warning
that having lived for 20 years in the offshore world, I am entirely judgment
proof so there is no point in bringing any legal proceedings.
It has been quite a tough trip so far:
(I) numerous comments in the Captain's blog (which
will be entered into the Booker Prize for fiction next year) about my diet.
These comments are not, in fact, confined to the blog as even Ian made a comment
today about the size of my bottom (I think that the long days at sea are
becoming a bit much for Ian, and Louis registered a complaint about Ian putting
his hands under his bed covers last night). I will return to Ian's
comment below in case he thinks he thinks he is getting away with it
lightly. However, I will say no more about the bed cover incident since
this is a family blog. It is perhaps as convenient a time as any to mention that
the Captain, after informing the Chief Catering Officer that he was considering
handcuffing her to the bed, emerged from his cabin this moring to inform the
crew that he was making her sleepwith her legs above her head. Again the
less said the better!
(ii) a serious mis-carriage of justice concerning
chocolate;
(iii) unfair references to me grabbing the
occasional 40 winks;
oh, and
(iv) some stormy weather and gear failure on the
boat;
(v) a couple of bouts of sea sickness - the first
of which put me out of action for about 30 hours - I don't think that Ian's
comment about my bottom was malicious but was his best attempt to explain why he
was sick over the windward side rather than the more usual leeward side (for
obvious reasons) - apparently my bottom prevented him getting over to any part
of the 49ft leeward side -I don't think he should be looking at my bottom.
(vi) Louis and I have the tough mid-night to 4 am
watch - then frequent early mornings to deal with minor and not so minor
emergencies happening on the following watch (which don't seem to happen on our
watch).
However, despite the above adversity it has been a
fun and enjoyable trip.
The weather has been pretty good - sunny and warm
most of the time although we would have preferred more wind. It is
surprisingly cool at the moment - we are at the same latitude as the southern
coast of Spain but it is sweater and long trousers during the day, and full foul
weather kit at night - Louis may be considering wearing his foul weather kit in
bed from now on!
The leg from the BVI to Bermuda seems an age
ago. We had good wind for the first few days, although the somewhat
confused sea made me quite ill for 30 hours. There was a little excitement
with the heads and a forward locker flooding but that happened whilst I was
strapped to the rear rail so I missed most of it. Then a couple of days of
calm before a windy and somewhat exciting entrance into the very narrow
cut. The Captain boldly ignored the advice from Louis and me about the
correct side to pass green bouys, and from excited shouts from Ian about the
depth (which actually corresponded with the depth shown on the chart for the
correct channel). To be fair to the Captain (which is a concept he
rarely proffers to me), he did get us in through a very narrow gap in the pitch
dark without touching the very menacing reef - which we observed in near
silence as we left on the correct side of the bouys in brilliant sunshine a few
days later.
I had only been to Bermuda twice before, and had
stayed in the not particularly attractive town of Hamilton. We stayed in
St. George's at the east end of the islands that comprise Bermuda, and it was
peaceful and very pleasant - although a number of the other boats complained
about Louis shouting (apparently not shouting at anybody in particular, but just
shouting) in the square next to the moorings at 3 am, and the local priest would
have complained about Louis climbing on his roof the same night if only he had
been able to catch him. For those of you who have been reading the Captain's
blog you will appreciate that this was the second time that Louis escaped
conviction because he was not "caught"!!!
Free Spirit won the prize for the best dressed crew
at the pirate party, and Louis, Richard, Ian and I spent a day zooming
around the islands on a moped. Mopeds are fun - but I am not sure that I
should be allowed on one again.
In addition to having fun in Bermuda, we carried
out some repairs. Ian appointed himself Chief Engineer but rather boldly
told me that he prefers to be known as Captain Pugwash - that expression has a
different meaning where I am from to the meaning that Ian attributes to it. He
designed a very effective seal for the anchor locker fashioned from a rubber
glove. Indeed Ian is a whizz with a rubber glove and on the Bermuda-Azores
leg he managed to adapt another one to cure the rather pungent smell coming from
the holding tank outlet valve. Carol needs new rubber gloves for
Christmas.
Bermuda was a great stop, and the Sound upon which
Hamilton sits will provide fantastic viewing for the next America's Cup.
Repaired and reprovisioned, we set off the the Azores hoping for good winds and
sunshine.
The start must have looked spectacular - all the
boats heading downwind for the narrow gap in the reef mentioned above - some
with spinakers up, and some like us, hoisting the Para-Sailor as soon as we
were out of the gap. For "as soon as" in our case please read "as soon as we
were good and ready".
It should be noted that Carol, the only woman on
board and the person responsible for producing the fantastic food that we enjoy
(inded I suspect that it is the food that has stoked the comments about my diet
mentioned above) IS NOT A GREAT FAN of Free Spirit's Para-Sailor.
We had enjoyed two days of sailing with the
Para-Sailor on the trip from the BVI to Bermuda - although each of them
involved an emergency snuffing of the sail. However, despite her
misgivings, even Carol enjoyed the first day as we made very good time behind
the huge bright yellow sail. We took it down as darkness approached
but left all the lines in place for a launch the following morning with the rise
of the sun. A good dinner, 4 quick hours sleep and then Louis and I kept
the boat moving at a swift pace during our midnight to 4 am watch. Maybe
the wind just blows a little harder between midnight and 4 am but the boat does
perfom very well during those early morning hours! We had barely got into
a deep sleep when down came the cry for "All hands on deck". Imagine the
scene as I stumbled sleepily onto the deck - the Para-Sail half up but slightly
torn and needing to come down quickly, Richard on the foredeck ready to collect
the Para-Sail when it came down, Peter amidships explaining to Ian is as polite
as langauge as permitted in the circumstances to let the red sheet go (imagine
if you can, him performing surgery and politely asking his registrar
to pass an implement which might be suitable to stop the massive haemorraging of
blood which was happening before them), and Ian trying to keep control of the
helm, say something funny to lighten the situation, and work out exactly what it
was that Peter wanted. A loud rip in the sail, Peter's even keener that
Ian should release the sheets, Louis and I running to the foredeck to try to
save what was left of the sail. The sail was eventually snuffed (although
at a critical moment somebody did pull on the red sheet and very nearly
re-launched the sail and me), bagged and I was back asleep within 30
minutes. As it transpired, and despite Carol's relief that the Para-Sailor
would be confined to its bag for the rest of the trip, the weather we
experienced on the way to the Azores would have been ideal for it. After a
few days of good weather, it turned a little rougher and we experienced the
problems that the Captain has previously explained with the heads, the main sail
and the furling system.
We had been recieving daily advice from my brother
Chris and Peter's friend Andy - the advice was to stay north and we followed it
until the problems with the sail. Unfortuantely, we then had to go south
to find some calm water to allow the Captain to drill out the bolts that had
sheared off in the mast. By the time we had found calmer water, fixed the
bolts (the professional rigger who assisted us in the Azores was very impressed
that the Captain has been able to make the system work at all whilst out at sea)
and sewed the mainsail - the wind had deserted us. What followed was an
uneventful motor though the Azores high for days on end - it is easy to see how
the doldrums drove sailors crazy in the days before engines - indeed the Captain
seems to have had halucinations about the alleged theft of his chocolate supply
and remained of a slightly doubtful mental state until he had his first beer in
Horta. The Captain's suggestion that we should head north and look for
more wind were quickly, and some may say forecefully, put down by the Catering
Manager. The second part of the trip was so uneventful that the trails of
the first half were forgotton. Indeed the leg from Bermuda to Horta may be
remembered as the leg on which I was not sea sick!!! Actually, we saw
dolphins every day (often more than once a day), whales on somedays, and two
killer whales on one day. I was fired as Fishing Officer, and Richard cast
the line the day we caught the 25lb tuna. Peter landed the fish - I had
helpfully assisted by putting the boat hove-to whilst the fish was being wound
in. It was perhaps not so helpful for me to do that, as I drove over
the line and Peter then had to wind in the rod from the wrong side of
the boat, dragging the line under the hull. However, at least I
intentionally put the boat hove-to - Ian will no doubt (and given sufficieint
time to make something up) explain how he managed ot get the boat hove-to twice
on other occasions. "Anyways" the fish was fabulous, and we enjoyed it
cooked, sometimes in the pan and sometimes in the sun, for two days.
Unfortuantely, there have been no more fish since then. I think it is time
to restore my rank as Fishing Officer.
Ian is a Yorshireman by birth, but has lived for
extened periods in Northern Ireland, the North West of England and more recently
on the South coast. It is necessary to recite this in order to
demonstrate that he has had many years of exposure to the British way of
doing things. Unfortunately, this cost us second place position over the
line in our class on Bermuda to Azores leg. Notwithstanding many and
frequent protests from Louis and me over a 40 minute period whilst we were
becalmed, Ian refused to do the oil and fan belt check or allow us to restart
the engine until he had, in the fine traditions of British workers, been to
the toilet and had a cup of tea. It has now been discovered that Ian had
secreted some of the tools about his person rather than restoring them to the
lazerette so Louis and I could not have gained access to check the fanbelt even
if we had wanted to do so. The Captain, devastated by the loss of second
place by less than 5 minutes, has issued an order that tools be returned to
their proper place. It is worth mentioning that revenge for Ian opening
the engine door hatch early the following morning whilst Louis and I were
sleeping in the salon is still chilling.
After a few days in Horta spent relaxing and
ensuring that the repairs to the boat were completed, we made a day sail to
Terceria. It is a fascinating place, that was twice the capital
of Portugal, with good food, a tour of the town and bull running in the
streets. Three of the crew found a club of ill repute - the Captain and I
have denied we were involved and I am not going to say which of Richard, Ian,
Carol and Louis, were the guilty parties - they are capable of speaking
(or in other words man enough to speak) for
themselves However, those three were somewhat quiet the following day, and
indeed Richard (oh dear, that unintentionally identifies one of them) who was
present in body really only rejoined us in spirit yesterday.
We are now in day 5 of the trip from the Azores to
Spain. 1 day of rather dull motoring, another windy and wild, followed by
a couple of days of good sailing. It is a bit hit and miss today, and we
are sailing some of the time and motor-sailing at others. We are looking
good for a Tuesday arrival in Spain.
Michael