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Emily Morgan - Day 12 - Boat talk



Thursday 2nd December Noon position (Ship's time) 19 degrees 39 minutes North; 0042 degrees 34 minutes West

Another night and day of squalls and rough, confused seas, apparently, unusual for this time of year. By this time all the crew have unqualified faith in Emily Morgan's capability to bring us safely to the Caribbean. The boat has demonstrated her ability to cleave her way through the mountainous seas and deal with rogue beam-on waves and squalls with occasional Force 10 gusts in a competent, methodical manner. We are delighted to be doing our transatlantic passage in this strong, robust, full-keel matriarch of the oceans. She has already taken Anna and Bones safely on a circumnavigation across the Indian Ocean and Pacific Ocean and this is their 13th Atlantic crossing. (One transatlantic will be sufficient for some of us.) We talk to Emily Morgan when at the helm. She is so well balanced we treat her with respect and we suggest and correct rather than use forceful helming. 'Come along now baby. Don't do this to me. Up you come. That's right. There you go!' cajoles Clare aloud when Emily Morgan decides to luff up in a wind shift but then responds to the helm.

One thing that has surprised us all is the vast emptiness of the ocean. When visibility is good the circle of our horizon is about 12 miles away in every direction. Although 200 boats set off from Las Palmas together and are travelling to the same destination, there is not one in sight. Occasionally we will see a cargo ship or another sailboat in the distance but hours and days go by when we see absolutely nothing except the sea and the sky. There are no longer any dolphins visiting or pods of pilot whales passing by.

When the seas are towering, enormous, grey hills, the horizon contracts to 100 yards and we are in deep valleys of swirling white foam. Then we are lifted up and get glimpses of more waves in every direction. The approaching waves have threatening, rearing, white, tousled heads and when Emily Morgan has rather scornfully crested them, they retreat, fleeing in a more humbled, rounded manner. These are tough conditions to sail in and require appropriate tactics to keep up crew morale. We furled the genoa so that the pitching motion was reduced, although the boat rolled from side to side more. Keith made a decadent chocolate biscuit cake as a much needed energy boost. Anna deemed it was an opportune time for her special 'rough-passage-dinner'. We are a dry boat (no alcohol) when at sea so the wine-laden hearty beef stew was particularly relished. The final tactic was to gybe and seek better weather further south.

Elizabeth
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