Aqualuna turns into a washing machine
Wow - what a ride the last few days have been! Naively I had not expected this, with everyone telling me that the most difficult part of the journey was getting to Las Palmas itself (including my husband and crew-mate, Malcolm, who will, believe me be paying for this for some time). Not true as it turns out! I think this fallacy is propagated by the same people who gaily cry ‘you’ll have the wind right up the chuff’ (or is it chough?) clearly without having the least idea of how horrible the reality of that actually is.
I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to say that the last few days have been extremely challenging. Although the winds have been strong - up to force seven for quite a lot of the time - it has been the waves that have made everything on board extremely difficult to manage. For much of the journey, they have been 4-5m high and coming from two directions at once. During the darkness of the night watches when I am alone and solely responsible, while Malcolm snatches a few hours of sleep, this seems very much worse. I find that the only way to cope is to jam my AirPods in and try to shut it all out with back-to-back episodes of The Archers. The comfort of immersing myself in this ‘simple tale of country folk’ whilst the wind howls and rages, and the boat is careering down the waves like some kind of out-of-control rollercoaster cannot be overestimated. The soundtrack of birds singing, cows mooing and the worst issue being whether or not Grey Gables will open on time, transports me out of this maelstrom and into another - considerably more attractive - reality.
Finally today (day 5) the seas are becoming a little bit calmer. Waves only around 2-3 metres for the time being, and it is now possible to make a cup of tea without the aid of crampons. Below-decks still bears a strong resemblance to my old student accommodation, but it will have to stay like that now until Mindelo.
We’ve had to go up on deck a few times during the voyage to make repairs and it is hard to describe to anyone who hasn’t experienced it just how difficult that is. First of all the deck is heaving and rearing about like an insane bucking bronco and secondly the wind strength seems to quadruple up there and to be in some kind of competition with the deck for which one can create the most havoc. Whilst this is happening, you have to try and remain calm, not lose your mind about the fact that it would be extremely easy to fall overboard, and get on with diagnosing the problem. Once you have finally managed to ascertain what is causing the trouble, you then have to set about fixing it with some kind of Blue Peter selection of craft materials that seemed to be sufficient for the job when you bought them in the safety and serenity of the chandlers on dry land, but as it turns out are entirely not fit for purpose.
Yesterday, we managed to solve the on-going problem of our genoa furler being jammed (spinnaker halyard caught in the mechanism at the top of the mast) but in doing so we also managed to break our spinnaker pole. The battle that took place with the 3 of us (Malcolm, Aqualuna and me) against the heaving seas, frenzied winds and failing light was intense but in the end the furler was disentangled and the pieces of spinnaker pole safely secured and ready to be mended in Mindelo. For now at least, we seem to be managing without the pole and can, thank goodness, furl the genoa during squalls.
We have 220 miles left to run, so we should be in on Friday night. Just one more overnight to go and I can almost smell the beer from here! Aqualuna has been a total legend, as (I hardly dare breathe it) has ‘Ernie’ our autohelm (he drove the fastest mik-cart in the west - or in this case, east 🤣). And I give total respect to my husband and crew mate, Malcolm, who has been my rock. He has the heart of a lion and I am so glad that I am sailing Aqualuna with him and sharing this adventure together.