Where is Doris?...

Wednesday 15 July 2009

Azores - UK (2)

Friday (PM) 10th July 2009

After sending the blog to Mr Crute and downloading some fresh Grib files, I cooked us cheese & chorizo pita 'toasties' for lunch. Kat has started (and soon gave up on) reading The Planets by Dava Sobel. She still hasn't really found her sea legs and feels queasy when reading below decks.

A lack of appetite led to Haribo sweets for dinner. To be honest this is the first ever trip I have also felt slightly queasy with a lack of appetite which is unusual for me. It may be a mental thing because I can see Kat suffering mild sea sickness effects?


Saturday 11th July 2009

Due to the uncomfortable swell, we 'hove to' at 0130utc to get some sleep. The day turned out to be sunny and a 'big day' for Kat. She went to the toilet for the first time in 5 days (no wonder she's been feeling queasy!) and then had a cockpit shower. It's a good thing this isn't a three week trip as she 'only' managed to use 25l of fresh water.

I cooked us some 'cheesy chips' for lunch which we enjoyed in the cockpit.

Today's mileage was 101nm with a noon position of N42 15.39 W21 40.68.

We have been watching a massive low pressure system carefully and it looks like we will be heading straight into it. While the maximum winds we should see are only about 30kn its size and duration indicate some big seas. Wind, I can handle, waves - no thanks!

I cooked hotdogs in pasta sauce for dinner and Kat kept a watch in the cockpit from midnight to 0430utc under a clear moonlit sky while listening to The Railway Children on her ipod.

Around 2030utc we heard a 'Securite' message from a yacht called Pure Magic announcing a floating (semi submerged) ships container in position N42 54.98 W21 09.37, about 16nm away from us.


Sunday 12th July 2009

Being on the very edge of the storm system, I decided to 'hove to' after Kat finished her watch at 0430utc. If the seas start to build very quickly or if the forecast is wrong this gives me the chance to run south out of the worst of it. The Navtex has been reporting the north of the system around Ireland producing Severe Gales (9) with possible Storm Force (10) winds. We remained 'hove to' mainly sleeping for about 10 hours until 1500utc when I was happy that the Grib files matched what we were seeing before progressing slowly deeper into the system.

Our noon position was N43 12.85 W20 29.38 with 89nm covered. Dropping the mainsail and running with the steep waves (~2m) under a scrap of jib. The winds were around 25kn with squalls to 30kn.

I downloaded a fresh Grib file of the storm and Kat started to worry that our Satphone credit was running low. Mainly because she wanted the comfort of being able to talk to someone in the event of her having to look after me or get advice should anything (God Forbid) happen. Understandable as I'm still (relatively) pretty new to this sailing lark and this is her first
(significant) trip without other more experienced crew around. We sent an SMS message to Mr Crute (the ground crew) requesting a credit 'top up'.

Kat cooked her first meal of tuna in pasta sauce for lunch and we settled in to listen to James & The Giant Peach. Again a lack of proper evening meal led to too many Haribo sweets being consumed. The sailing throughout the night was pretty rough with the building sea conditions.


Monday 13th July 2009

Continuing under headsail only, we continued to make decent progress in the right direction despite squally conditions and large uncomfortable seas. Crutey sent us a confirmation that the Satphone credit had been 'topped up' which made Kat feel a bit more relaxed in light of the rough conditions.

I cooked us a 'Med style' Egg Fried Rice dish which must have been quite good with Kat having a second portion.

Our noon position was N43 52.10 W18 49.71 with 92nm covered.

In the afternoon I opened up (another) one of the pressies from Kat's gift pack (before she knew she was joining me on the return leg of the trip). A bar of Caramel choccy and 'Longitude' by Dava Sobel, I have been wanting this book for ages. I often wonder if Kat isn't the real Santa Clause or at least secretly wants to be. She always buys, makes, obtains the perfect gifts, maybe she should be a 'Purchasing Assistant' for the Rich & Shameless for job satisfaction.

We listened to the 2nd part of James & The Giant Peach in the afternoon before I cooked us some 'Casolet' Pork Beans with mashed potatoes for evening meal. This quite literally 'didn't go down' too well. I had bad indigestion and Kat proceeded to fart all night long. Come the morning, she was actually convinced that her room was full of 'Casolet gas', this turned out to be the washing up in a bucket in her room!

In the evening Kat sent an SMS text to her parents to let them know she was still alive and well, before we spent another 'uncomfortable' night at sea with (~3m) waves regularly smashing into our beams and coming over the decks.


Tuesday 14th July 2009
Kat and I continued to swing 2hr watches (more like taking turns to scan the horizon with sleep in between) until around midday when Kat cooked us some amazing Cheese & Chorizo toasties for lunch.

By this time the sun had made a welcome re-appearance and the skies showed signs of the weather starting to improve (less squalls). With the reduced wind now on our beam we raised the mainsail for more drive over the remaining (2m) swell.

After a mammoth washing up session in the afternoon the winds were down to ~10kn and we made way at a speed of around 6kn with 1 reef in the mainsail and ¾ jib with the wind just above the beam - perfect sailing conditions for Doris.

Our noon position was N44 41.90 W16 50.42 with 105nm covered.

Kat spent the afternoon in the cockpit reading 'The Game' by Neil Strauss (a book every guy should read - women don't bother as you will only get pissed off). She also insisted on banging her head against various parts of the boat. Just to complete the afternoon she gave me a colourful 'French lesson' after dropping our only tub of cotton buds down the toilet.

With the seas (and wind) dropping fast I managed to keep Doris sailing well throughout the evening and I cooked us some Chilli Con Carne around midnight before the 'nightshift'.


Wednesday 15th July 2009
Kat took a watch at 0300utc and I then kept watch from 0600utc where I saw our first yacht about 4nm on the horizon. By 0900utc the wind was down to ~6kn with a slight swell running in memory of the storm endured over the last three days. I was now struggling to keep Doris moving at any decent pace in the right direction under full sail.

1000utc and a sunglasses wearing Kat (after doing zombie impressions) is happily sat at the wheel with the monotonous drone of the engine running at 2000rpm holding a course of ~50T and shadowing the distant yacht on our port bow horizon. We have the fridge on, the stereo blasting, phones (mobile and Sat) & laptop charging and more importantly the ships batteries above their 12.2v which they have been at for the last three days due to a lack of prolonged sunshine throughout the storm.

1100utc and I have just fixed another broken mainsail slide, my last spare so hopefully this will be the last repair I have to make before reaching the UK - fingers X'ed!

Our noon position is N45 52.90 W15 31.85 with 98nm covered with 517nm to go.

Neither Kat nor I have tried to kill each other and the sun is out. You are now all up to date!


Kats Perspective .

Hey all, I had thought I may need to write the whole blog as Boo announced that, having rounded Cape Horn twice (reading 'Voyage for Madmen') he was too worn out to type. Anyway, luckily he's recovered from this adventure so it's just a quick personal perspective update instead.

As some of you know, this trip was a monumental step for me in terms of my experience thus far. The sailing I've done has always been with at least 3 other crew all of whom are more experienced / qualified than me so I've been able to take comfort in the knowledge that if anything went wrong, there'd be a healthy handful of others who'd deal with things first and that it'd be incredibly unlikely that something would happen to ALL the crew leaving me single-handedly trying to rescue them / handle the boat etc. Whether this has made me a better sailor or not is dubious but I felt it's about time I at least tried a long passage as the only other crew. My notions of embarking on a cruising lifestyle to reset all my bad habits and stress-head tendencies I've gained so far will be hard to materialise if I can't overcome this stumbling block and so, with an ashen face and literal palpitations I booked my flight out to the Azores (with a return option as a) it was cheaper and b) I still wasn't totally sure I'd actually be onboard when the lines were cast off!!!)

I put my queasiness in the first few days down partially to these nerves and partially the motion as I haven't been afloat since March so have truly grown land-lubber legs. I took Boo's advice that it always takes a few days to get your sea legs so I let him take charge of both sailing and catering.

Over a week into the trip I'm still feeling uncomfortable a lot of the time but bit by bit trying to overcome this and successfully cook something to show willing! The food's not fab but then I'm not known as a gourmet chef on land either (and I never got that cooking lesson from Paula in Horta)!

For entertainment I've resorted to listening to my ipod audiobooks more than I expected as I can only read printed literature in the cockpit which limits me to daylight and a dry cockpit (my cockpit cushions I've just made during my upholstery course in the UK are proving to be a god-send) . Saturday night was my kind of nightshift: clear moonlit skies with Doris jogging along under sail and I was able to listen to The Railway Children audiobook from "cover to cover". That's what being out here is all about for me - being forced to sit still and simply reflect and not rush from one thing to the next without ever totally finishing what I've started! I got a taster of this doing the ARC transatlantic on SY Matchmaker last November but that was a 65foot Oyster with 4 other crew so there have been plenty of new experiences doing an offshore passage on Doris with just Boo.

I've found the watch system exhausting as having been used to a structured 4 hours on / 4 hours off rota I'm now seeing how a short-handed crew operate instead. We haven't installed a formal pattern as due to me not being a competent sailor in my own right Boo is fundamentally on-call the whole time in the same way he was single-handing. This in effect means he sleeps wherever possible and has acclimatised to sleeping for 20/30 minute intervals checking the horizon and resuming his adventures in the land of nod. However when I've tried this technique (to allow him to sleep in longer chunks) I feel after 4 hours that I've been run over by a steam engine and laid into by Mike Tyson for desserts! I find it easier to stay awake for my "watch" and as Boo sleeps in the salon to see the sails etc from his bed I'm either in the cockpit (weather permitting) or sitting in the dark opposite him using my ipod for entertainment! Then I crawl into my cubby hole of the aft cabin and try to sleep. I still haven't got used to the whole "bedroom window under water" thing so wake up with a jolt most times we heel and watch anxiously out of the cockpit-facing hatch to check I can still see Boo's legs up there and that he hasn't fallen overboard! Nighttimes still bring out the goulies for me: I dream of containers and whales hitting the boat (not helped by the twack sounds of waves hitting the hull which honestly sound like brick walls not water & are a new sound to me), the boat capsizing (usually encouraged by sensation of heeling during sleep) and Boo falling overboard so then have to check out it's not real! I guess this is all stuff that you rationalise over time and I'm so fickle that as soon as it's daylight and I know other boats can see us more easily and likely to have crew awake on them I can sleep more soundly!

Dreaming also skews my perspective so whilst I was still trying the technique of sleeping between scanning the horizon I woke up during early hours of Sunday morning and could see Boo sleeping soundly on the salon bunk I threw a complete wobbler to myself that those lazy gits in the forecabin don't pull their fair share on the watch system and why does it always have to be Boo and I doing all the work! It took me til daylight to realise there were no other crew in the forecabin! Equally, next night I woke up convinced after 2 days of storm-dodging that we were about to broach or capsize completely. Boo hears a polite voice from the darkness of the aft cabin saying "Baby, are we over-canvassed?" to which he replied: "No sweets, it's blowing 9 knots and we've still got 1 reef in". Can't trust anything out here that's for sure!!!

So, despite the ongoing motion-sickness (which I didn't suffer on the ARC crossing but then the boat was twice the size which I'm sure helped!) and Mother Nature's cruel sense of humour sending my "clumsy phase of the month" to add to the lack of solid sleep and borderline madness accrued thus far I'm actually glad (in a perverse way?) that I'm here!