Viva - Log day 14 - Miracles and Mourning

It has been an exciting couple of days down the homestretch aboard Viva. Best I think to get the bad news out of the way first. Today we are mourning the loss of a beloved friend and compatriot. Hugo, our affectionately named Autohelm 7000, decided in the wee hours of this morning, while battling large swells and a heavily rolling Viva, that he had simply had enough. A trusty friend who guided us safely across thousands of miles of ocean, Hugo will be sorely missed. After performing a postmortem, we discovered that the connection between the linear drive and the rudder had snapped in two. While we haven't yet ruled out the possibility of a repair in the Azores, it looks like it is back to basics for the rest of the trip. I usually enjoy a couple of hours behind the wheel, except of course when it's raining and it's cold, and it's 3 am. We'll miss you Hugo.

As if Hugo's passing was not enough to deal with, we experienced a second loss later this morning - our Genoa. While close-hauled on a port tack in about 15 knots of wind, the sheets ripped the Genoa clew right off the sail, rendering it completely useless. Due to Petra's thorough preparation, though, we had onboard a spare 135 Genoa as well as a 100 Jib. By noon we had the spare Genoa up and flying and the old torn one safely stowed away.

Now for the happy news. Giulia's 28th Birthday was on Sunday. As Sunday was a cold, wet day, the celebration was limited to a brain bending scavenger devised by Josh that ultimately led Giulia to her B-Day gift of a lovely homemade woven ankle bracelet. On Monday, however, the weather and spirits were a little brighter, so we were ready to resume the festivities. That afternoon we were pondering the best use of a box of B-Day cake mix without having any eggs (we lost our total supply a week ago due to some uninvited and unwanted worms), when suddenly a crazy seagull appeared off of our bow. We figured that it couldn't hurt to ask, so we told the seagull our egg predicament and wondered if he could help in any way. John, the skipper of La Gaviota Chiflata (the crazy seagull) and a fellow ARC Europe sailor, replied that he would be happy to assist the celebration. And thus began the preparations for the 2009 Great North Atlantic Egg Drop. Obviously, the first and most important step in preparing for a middle of the ocean egg drop is to paint your face and don the craziest costume you can find. So aboard Viva that is exactly what we did. With turbans flowing, parasols twirling, feathers flying, and faces sparkling, it certainly made for a surreal scene. Like something out of a crazy Felini film. Despite our appearance, the vital transfer was conducted with professional expertise. We slowly crept up to the bobbing La Gaviota Chiflata, Josh ready with the boathook on the bow and Petra at the helm. When the package hit the water, Petra deftly maneuvered Viva alongside and Josh perfectly timed the rise of the swell. A successful drop! As the cake-saving crew of La Gaviota Chiflata sang Happy Birthday from their deck, Giulia opened the precious package. Imagine her surprise when she found in addition to the four eggs, some birthday hats, streamers, and colorful posters reading Happy Birthday Giulia (signed no less by the entire Chiflata crew). Even our friends the dolphins decided to show up for the party, giving both boats an awe inspiring acrobatic show. Truly an ARC Birthday miracle.

The actions of La Gaviota Chiflata epitomize what makes ARC Europe so great. While it is a race and sailors are certainly competitive, I find that it is a sense of camaraderie more than competition that permeates the Fleet. From helping to create an unforgettable Birthday experience, to assisting with mechanical problems and medical emergencies, or by simply passing along the latest weather information, the vessels in the ARC Fleet are continuously looking out for one another.

Till something else worthwhile happens to write about, this has been... "B's (hopefully) Deep Thoughts aboard Viva"