Donate a Pint

Fresh from celebrating our second place into New York, we left the Empire State building, Central Park, Ground Zero and the Big Apple’s sights behind after yet another stopover counted in hours rather than days. Clouded in thick fog, we were somewhat disappointed not to see the Statue of Liberty in daylight having been welcomed in under the cover of darkness. Once more we had to motor out to the start line due to light winds and a tight Clipper timetable. While I fully understand the need to arrive at ports within a given time frame, the amount of motoring we’ve done recently is becoming very frustrating and tedious (although it’s very useful to catch up on sleep, diaries and blogs!!). Skipper had pulled out 2^nd for the Le Mans startline which offered us the opportunity to get off to a great start and we duly took him up on his offer! Winds were variable, sails went up and down and there was certainly no rest for the wicked. However, we were up there in the leading pack as sail plan decisions went our way. It’s always useful when other boats nearby hoist sails just before you and you can see that they won’t work!! For some reason I didn’t have a great feeling going into this race. Maybe I thought that we were going to suffer from a second-place hangover and be too confident. It didn’t help when the predicted strong winds didn’t materialise only to discover that we’d been looking at outdated weather reports! By the end of the first evening, the boat felt sluggish and we were sat towards the back of the pack. Did the Big Blue Boat have time to make the usual comeback – somehow I didn’t think so in such a short race. 

It was make or break. The pack stayed East to avoid some shallow water shoals and we decided to go for it, stay West, make a break and see what happened. Now we’ve done this many times before, with limited success. The weather was pretty atrocious; 5m waves were pounding over the foredeck and going up to the bow meant risking a thorough soaking. While the refreshing waters of the Caribbean hadn’t been an issue, these waters were definitely not part of the warm Gulf Stream. Red and black foul weather gear was to be seen on deck under which was worn an array of thermals, fleecy mid layers and thick socks, which had been dragged out from the bottom of our drybags. Hats, scarves and gloves were definitely required on deck and many kept them on in their sleeping bags. Some thought it was as painful as the conditions going into China but personally I think that’s memories playing tricks, afterall I wasn’t anywhere near tears as my hands thawed this time!  

As we headed across the shallows, the waters turned into a bizarre and surreal but calm array of swirl pools, bubbles and currents. To add to the mystical atmosphere, a thick, cold, damp fog descended upon us. At the start of the race we lost our radar and here we were with less than 200ft of visibility sailing over fishing grounds. Hardly an ideal situation and we had people on permanent lookout for fishing boats, tankers and fishing pots that may appear from within the veil of fog. Thankfully we only had one close call! During our trip over the shoals, the wind varied considerably and we were constantly changing sails. With the rest of the fleet so far away we had no idea what winds they had. If the weather files were correct, we weren’t too badly off, even though the 6-hourly results had us in 8^th position.   Over 12 hours we managed to climb up to 2^nd position. Suddenly there was a new impetus, a new enthusiasm and there was always somebody changing something desperate to make the boat go faster and hang on for a second consecutive podium place. We had the wind…sometimes.  I was woken for my shift with the great news that we were in the lead and had 12 hours until the race finish. Once more, the race had been shortened and we were all now racing for a ‘gate’. This was it, more intense, nerve wracking sailing. The stuff I loved! The pressure was on, could we maintain our success? As we all converged on a 2 mile wide gate, the wind conditions we all faced were going to be pretty similar. Could we hold our lead? On the helm, I felt good, managing to hold a steady course at a good speed. The pressure of being in the lead is something I haven’t felt much on this race and it was an unfamiliar feeling to know that our success was completely in our own hands. After watch, I went to my bunk a nervous bundle of energy.  

I was woken with half an hour to go, and up on deck the mood was still jubilant. We’d done it – Glasgow, who had been in second place, were miles behind on the horizon. As we crossed the line we all celebrated. Our first first. So this is what success tasted like. A second consecutive podium, we were all exhausted but ecstatic. We’d done it. Since our dismasting, this is what we’ve been fighting for – the full set of flags. There was a huge sense of achievement but as results have gone our way, so we’re now in search of some success in the overall race…maybe, just maybe….

This entry was posted on Monday, June 9th, 2008 at 2:46 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.