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Free Spirit - Log 28: 13 June 2015



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


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