Atlantic Adventure (week 2)

Woken by Chez having some issues with keeping the Hydrovane on course, and to the news that Martin quite possibly has Covid.

He’s still not feeling too good - headache and nausea. Thankfully after taking one of the self tests, he came back with a negative, so it’s not Covid. For now, we’re putting it down to him adjusting to the lack of sleep, the constant uncomfortable rolling and the bracing sea air. ...or possibly the company!

I made sushi for brunch with the last of the mahi-mahi (got to thinking; is that the same fish they call dorado?). Cooked rice, rolled it up with strips of fish and cucumber in nori (seaweed sheets), then chilled. Ate with soy sauce, fresh ginger and wasabi - absolutely delicious! Reminded me of days at the sushi train restaurant back in Sydney with Charlie stacking empty plates up like they’re going out of fashion.

The wind has finally started doing what it’s supposed to be doing - whizzing us West at somewhere between 6 and 7 knots - hoping that the days (and nights) of flappy sails are behind us for now.

Took over from Martin at 11pm.

Fingers crossed a good night sleep is ahead of him and he feels better in the morning.

It’s a great looking night - mainly clear sky, full moon shining bright, sparkling water - all’s well.

...oh I forgot Chez’s health update: still not quite back to 100%. She reports that the respiratory aspect of the disease has passed - she demonstrated this by breathing through her nose for me. The gastric component is still a work in progress, or as they used to say at work: that aspect of the project is still currently in a fluid state.

Exactly the same as last night: come 2:30am the wind dropped.

(Boring bit for non-sailors coming up, feel free to skip to the next day)

I’d been playing around with the working jenoa sheet, tugging on it as the sail began to collapse in the weak wind and swell to try and keep it filled. This worked to a certain extent, so I rigged up some bungee cord to do the job for me. Tying it round the sheet before it reached the winch, then down to the toe rail and back to a handy cleat in the cockpit. I tied the bungee tight under tension, so as soon as there is any slack on the jenoa sheet the bungee takes it up. Well unbelievably, it really does seem to work, as the wind drops and returns in the swell, the bungee pulls, and the sail remains full and breathes in and out without the whip crack.

This is quite significant, as the flap and whip crack of the jenoa is no good for;

a) the sail.

b) our mental health

c) It’s also one of the main things that keeps us (..or Chez at least) awake at night in the front cabin.

5am review: it seems about 90% effective

Goodnight x

Day 9: Thursday 20 Jan 2022

All happily awake by 9am, Martin and Chez both report feeling close to 100% - Great news! Spoiled somewhat by Martin then vomiting off the back not 10 minutes later.

Today was an annoying day of big seas, short interval waves, constant rocking and squalls. ‘Squall’ is a cute little word for quite a nasty occurrence, which I’ll admit, is at times a frightening one. You go from just uncomfortable rolling and a bit windy, to torrential rain, howling wind, flapping sails and being violently knocked off course in the space of a few minutes. Anyway - we had a few of those today. One downpour finding its way into the USB charging sockets we use for the iPad (navigation) and phones (communication) which is a far from ideal situation. I spent a large portion of the rest of the day cursing Steve Jobs and trying various combinations of plugs, sockets, cables, wiggling and swearing in an attempt to get sufficient charge into everything.

We had a rolly dinner of spagbol. Dinner was followed by a screech from the reel caused by a 2m long jumping fish committing a sunset lure robbery. Back on to nightshift, full moon, side on swell.

Today was a day to be endured rather than enjoyed I’m afraid.

Day 10: Friday 21 Jan 2022

Not much going on really. Martin still not himself. He looks quite sorry for himself and is forcing himself to eat.

The following sea cuts across us at 30 degrees causing a constant corkscrew roll which 2/3 of the crew are finding troublesome to their tummies. On the good news front, Chez’s Covid is a thing of the past. We’re making great speed whizzing along at 6.5knots. Yesterday and today we’ve started seeing clumps of tan coloured thorny weed floating by. This and the still numerous flying fish are the only items of interest against the endless rolling fields of blue that surround us on all sides.

....and yet another leviathan of the deep took it upon itself to steal my lure and all the line from the reel in one quick 10 second hit and run. This was greeted with suitable profanity from me, and barely suppressed amusement from the Smith siblings.

Not feeling the best myself this afternoon: I’ve tried to stay bright and keep the mood up, but it’s hard. A bored Chez (unable to do any activity that requires being below or looking down for any length of time - reading, crochet etc.) admitted this afternoon that she wouldn’t want to do this again, and has no interest in crossing the Pacific. This info throws a major spanner into our future plans for a sailing return to Oz.

...but no drama, let’s finish up today with some boaty wisdom: Sailing plans are written in wet sand at low tide. We’ll work something out.

Day 11: Saturday 22 Jan 2022

We remain in the middle of nowhere.

Our small transistor radio now plays nothing but static across all frequencies on both FM and AM.

Greenland is 2400 miles due North

Brazil is 1250 miles due South

Mauritania is 1500 miles due East

The Dominican Republic a mere 1450 miles due West on the island nation of Hispaniola.

...and just over 1000 miles away is our destination: Antigua. All being well, we should be arriving there in about a weeks time.

Today was Chez’s dolphins at dawn day - which she needed to lift her spirits after a horrible night of slapping and cracking sails.

The wind has deserted us for now. This isn’t great from a get to Antigua perspective, but the sea state has calmed allowing us all to catch up on some much needed sleep.

Martin is feeling better (in the high 90s).

In the afternoon the horizon before us was dominated by the most ominous looking clouds yet, thankfully as we ploughed on, they skirted round to our Port side without bothering us.

A happily uneventful day.

The same could not be said for my nightshift - I had a 3am battle royale with the returned wind: needing to reef hard as it intensified to vicious howling. Truth be told, it was pretty bloody scary and hellish for a large part of the night.

Day 12: Sunday 23 Jan 2022

Around 900 miles to go. Just saying we still have relentless large seas this morning doesn’t quite do it justice, so I’ll start with Martin’s description of last night:

Imagine being on a bouncy castle, and getting bounced around over and over again and all you can hear is howling wind and slapping waves, then someone (me) turns on a noisey tractor engine right next to your head. You may have seen the SAS selection TV show ‘Who dares wins’ where in the last episode the participants are interrogated and tortured. To immediately stop their torment they can ‘VW’ or voluntarily withdraw by handing in their assigned number - Martín admitted he would have handed in his number last night - sadly this was not an option.

My description is similar - imagine being at a ‘fun’ fair and after making yourself feel a little sick from hotdogs, candy floss and icecream you inadvisedly decide to take a ride on the waltzer. It’s the biggest one you’ve ever seen and the carnie running it has a malicious look in his eye. After its been spinning up and down for some hours you politely ask him if he could kindly stop the ride to let you off. He shakes his head with a sneer, takes a long drag on his rollie, then grabs the back of your chair and spins it as hard as he can. Then laughing like a maniac he throws a bucket of water in your face.

As you can probably tell, the conditions last night and today are far from idyllic. Everything we try to do, including just sitting, is a strength sapping struggle against the constant and randomly moving floor below us.

Fitfully napping, trying to charge Apple devices, spilling drinks and wincing as your stomach churns is the order of the day.

In other news, I made stew, which no one but me will be able to stomach.

No let up all day with the sea state: 7m plus waves corkscrewing us and wind howling around our ears - it’s trying both physically and mentally and the mood of myself and the rest of the crew reflects that.

On a positive note: we’re whipping along at 7 knots.... the faster we go the quicker we get there!!

Not looking forward to my night shift tonight - which will start with the classic line:

“It was a dark and stormy night!”

But that’s later - for now, I’ll try and get some sleep for a few hours or at least roll around on the bed with my eyes closed.

...and waking from the surprisingly successful nap, the sea has gone from raging to only mildly angry, so fingers crossed for an uneventful night.

I saw a falling meteor (?) in the night, like a shooting star, but with white burning debris breaking off behind it as it came down low on the horizon.

My shift finished up at 5 with a cloud heavy and squally sky ahead. Up again at 6 to help a sad, wet and frankly over it Chez with getting us back on course. Back to bed at 7.

Day 13: Monday 24 Jan 2022

The tired crew are thankful for a slight change in the conditions from overnight - less swell, sun out, following breeze. Not much going on.

Oh... did I mention we nearly had a fire?

The pile of dirty washing was large enough to justify getting the generator and washing machine out. 10 minutes into its cycle Martin shouts from the stern “There’s a burning smell!” closely followed by “There’s smoke!” and then “Fire extinguisher!”

We cut the generator, then went investigating - the source being an as yet unidentifiable component next to the transformer - hot to the touch, and singed wires coming out of both sides. That can wait until Antigua to be fixed - and we’ll be hand washing for now.

The nightshift was long and uneventful, sails flapping and fatiguing- glad to be heading to bed at 5am

Day 14: Tuesday 25 Jan 2022

Wind turned to our stern - the expected direction from the off. Unlike the usable Northerlies we’ve been getting, the result (you can probably guess by now..) more flapping! First time I’ve actually thought a pole would be useful to keep the sails in shape.

I didn’t rise until 11 - getting a good 6 hours sleep - bizarrely I felt more tired than usual. I think it’s the cumulative effect of poor sleep catching up with us all.

After a 2 day break from fishing, I dropped a lure off the stern and was rewarded mid afternoon with yet another good sized Mahi Mahi/dorado.

Sadly both Martin and Chez won’t be enjoying it with me: Martin, still poorly says he couldn’t stand the smell, and Chez failing to raise an appetite for it, not being a fan of the clubbing things to death. They don’t know what they’re missing - it’s an excellent fish. (Fish & mash tonight, sushi tomorrow)

Had an annoying late afternoon flap and fiddle fest - which is considerably less fun than it sounds.