Why did you decide to do it?
CHALLENGE, UNIQUE EXPERIENCE, SAILING SKILLS
And more specifically why the Pacific?
MOST INTENSE LEG OF RACE SO WANTED TO EXPERIENCE IT AT ITS BEST AND WORST
Did you ever feel scared?
NO - THE BOAT HANDLED EXTREMELY WELL IN BIG SEAS AND SKIPPER AND CREW WERE SENSIBLE AT ALL TIMES REGARDING SAFETY.
What did you enjoy most about the experience?
SAILING HUGE 20M WAVES
What did you enjoy least about the experience?
MOTHER DUTY - PREPARING FOOD AND DRINKS FOR THE DAY FOR 15 PEOPLE WHEN AT 45 DEGREES WAS NO FUN AT ALL
How did you sleep?
OVERALL WELL. HAD ABOUT 8-9 HOURS PER DAY IN BED WHICH IS A LOT BUT IN CERTAIN 24 HOUR PERIODS MANAGED LESS THAN 2 HOURS SLEEP, IN OTHERS SLEPT THE WHOLE LOT.
Were you wet all the time?
GOT WORSE AS TRIP WENT ON. FOULIES (WET WEATHER GEAR) WERE GREAT TO START WITH BUT GRADUALLY BECAME SATURATED. TOP AND MID LAYERS FAIRLY REGULARLY SOAKED, BASELAYERS LARGELY DRY.
Was there a time or how many times did you think "I just want to get off"?
BEING MOTHER OR TRYING TO GET INTO 7 LAYERS OF CLOTHES WHEN AT 45 DEGREES.
What was the food like?
NOT BAD ACTUALLY. FREEZE DRIED MEALS, PASTA, RICE AND TUNA ALL FEATURED REGULARLY
What did you miss the most?
BED, HELEN, DRY CLOTHES. PROBABLY IN THAT ORDER.
How was it being in a confined space with almost strangers for so long?SURPRISINGLY EASY. ONLY 7 ON OUR WATCH OF WHICH ONE WAS MOTHER EACH DAY SO ONLY
REALLY SHARING THE SPACE WITH 6 PEOPLE. NOT A PROBLEM AT ALL. Would you do it again?NO. THOROUGHLY ENJOYED IT BUT IT'S A CASE OF SEEN ONE OCEAN, SEEN THEM ALL.
Out of adversity comes something....can't remember what it is but am sure it's relevant to us here. Perhaps it's strength. The Derry crew has certainly shown it in abundance since we lost our 3rd place. Morale is very good - maybe we're just demob happy, maybe now that we've taken our focus off the podium and back onto why we're really out here doing this we've realised just how amazing it's been. It feels like months ago that we waited in Qingdao to see if we'd be able to race at all after our water-maker failed. Had you offered us then a 4th place finish with all crew safe and smiling we'd have ripped your hand off. Yet after 29 amazing days on the Pacific that's exactly what we're looking at. It's all very, very good. We had 2 great day's sailing, counting down the number of watches left before arrival and watching the ETA tick down towards zero. Humidity levels down below are near saturation levels - I've really never seen anything like it. If you hang something out to dry it gets wetter, so counter-intuitively the best thing to do with something wet is roll it in a ball to hopefully stop it getting wetter. One real downer has been finding my "dry-bag" of land-clothes to wear in San Fran has leaked so I now own nothing dry. Going to quickly turn my hotel room into a chinese laundry on arrival. Not to worry - with a bed, beer, burger and shower just 11 hours away it would be diffiicult put a downer on things. It seems spirits are the onky thing left on board that aren't damp. And by way of a final goodbye the Pacific threw us a quick 40 knot headwind for the last 6 hours just to remind us of how potent it can be. Despite some fairly extreme conditions it's been a fairly benign crossing. The schedule from here is 3-4pm crossing of line tomorrow, sorry, later today (just started 4am watch). Moored by 6pm, beers, quick shower, food then more beers until tiredness overcomes us. Big boat clean tomorrow followed by maintenance day the day after and then crew dinner on the 4th. Then a lovely week with family before returning home at last. Will post more details of the adventure in the coming days/weeks, but for now, one more watch to go, a sleep and then the Golden Gate Bridge awaits.
Sadly it's not been a very good day on baord Derry which resulted in us dropping to 4th place and out of the podium places. NY went into their stealth mode (24 hour period "off radar") but we were largely unconcerned. They had proved unable to outpace us in the previous 3 weeks, the wind files suggested light winds to the south, and given our more northerly position they would only drop further behind by coming up to our level. So nothing had changed - keep sailing as we were and avoid serious equipment failure and third place was ours. Just as our 12am-4am watch was finishing, our steering gear, for the second time in the race, failed. What followed was a slightly frantic but highly "professional" 45 minutes of rigging the emergency tiller, getting the sails under control and fixing the problem. OK, we had lost about 3 miles in the period but it was far from a disater. Indeed we opened and polished off a bottle of Jameson to celebrate a job well done. The next morning however we faced a bigger problem and one that was out of our control - the windhole predicted down south had popped up north instead and we sailed right into it - the even bigger sucker punch was that if NY had gone south in stealth mode they would now miss the wind hole and sail into strong and favourable winds. We spent a hugely frustrating 8 hours bobbing around at about 4 knots, and when NY came out of stealth at 8pm yesterday the updates confirmed the worst - we were now 20 miles behind. It was a flyer for NY to go south - all the data we had suggested it was the wrong move but in 4th place you have nothing to lose - get it wrong and you might come 5th/6th, but get it right and you're on the podium. And so it worked out - better lucky than smart as they say. The really interesting thing has been the reaction on board. Probably more than half the crew didn't really care - the lure of land luxuries just 2 days away overcame any disappointment at losing 3rd place. That doesn't make them wrong at all - people come on this adventure for many different reasons - to race, the expereince, to learn etc etc and if the race itself is low down on your priorities then nothing has really changed. A few of us were disappointed but understood the nature of the lost place - we hadn't done anything wrong, were a little unlucky while NY got very lucky. It hasn't changed how well we've done so far nor the fact that anyone on board would have gladly taken 4th place when we'd just learnt about the 1 ton extra of water we'd be carrying way back in Qingdao. I'm reluctant to blame it all on luck but there isn't a lot we would have changed about our tactical decisions or how we've raced. Sadly the person to have taken it worst has been the skipper. Now I do understand that as aprofessional skipper he is under different pressures than we the crew, but I hope he does not now overturn the crew approach which has served us so well thus far and risk destroying the tremendous atmosphere on board. Worst case there is just 48 hours to go so we can survive anything, and either way the fun and morale on our watch remains as high as ever.Thoughts now turn to all the land luxuries awaiting us in San Fran. I worked out this morning that I only have to get dressed 5 more times (the hardest part of every watch) before we arrive. Sleeping in a flat bed and seeing Helen (in no particular order of course!) are the 2 things I am looking forward to most. In the meantime we'll sail as hard as we can on this spectacular adventure and hope for NY to mess up.
Ocean racing is proving a strange world. Nothing happens very quickly - in
identical boats and similar weather it's incredibly hard to make gains on boats
around you. Take New York for example - it's about 2 weeks now that they've been
about 10 miles behind us. 10 miles is less than 1 hours sailing, but the gap has
remained consistent for well over 1000 miles now. We've helmed some incredible
conditions in that period banging out ridiculously high speeds for a sail boat,
yet when we get our 6 hourly updates there they are, still 10 miles behind. It's
enough to drive you insane, enough to want to pull over and let them past just
to enjoy a few hours of relaxation. The only thing worse would be being in 4th
place trying to catch us for 2000 miles but depsite pushing boat and crew to the
limit being unable to catch up.
The skipper of New York sent our skipper an email 2 days ago saying simply "Christ, you guys are hard to catch". Advantage Derry. It was a huge psychological boost for us. No matter how sick we were of seeing New York 10 miles behind us, they were even more sick seeing us 10 miles ahead. While 14 days out you can console yourself into thinking that all you have to do is match us and wait for a mistake, 4 days out the chances of that mistake become more and more remote. And if the latest updates are accurate, it looks like NY have taken a dive south in desperation to give themselves some chance of making 3rd. The problem is the forecast, if accurate, is for a lull to arrive from the south which should stop them dead before they can gain any significant ground. It's brave but maybe stupid - they may be risking a safe 4th position on a flyer.
For now we plough on with our more northerly course knowing that if we can avoid significant damage to our boat that our podium place remains ours to lose. On we race, around 96 hours away from all we yearn - a podium finish, a bed, beer, meat, friends and family, toilets that flush, flat floors, dryness. The list is almost endless, as it sometimes feels is the Pacific itself. Morale on board remains fantastic - nothing like an exciting race to focus the minds away from the petty discomforts that could at any moment rise up to arguments. The sailing too, apart from a frustrating 6 hour lull this afternoon, remains incredible. We're close enough to the end now that adrenaline is overcoming any tiredenss and no doubt soon will start to regret the end of this great adventure. In the mean time however, all that matters is that 10 miles gap to NY.
As I had suspected my "down day" yesterday was closely linked to my lack of helm
time. I returned today to huge seas and strong winds. Due to a lack of peope
on board willing or able to helm in these conditions I had a massive 2.5 hour
shift this afternoon (usually about 1 hour max) and another 1.5 hours tonight
(usually 40 mins). Absolutely amazing stuff. I hit a top speed of 25.2 knots
(about 45kmph) which is a boat record for the Pacific, and 2 minutes later an
even bigger wave crashed over the deck throwing more water at us than I have
ever seen. Imagine having a fire hose turned on you for 20 seconds and you get
the idea. When it finally stopped I had my 4 crewmates in front of me sprawled
across the deck in various posiitons. Thankfully no injuries. Size of
the waves is just straggering - well over 20m tall. Quite amazing stuff and
exactly what I came here to experience. Off now for my last 30 mnins helming of
the day and then a much deserved 3 hour sleep.
And from skipper Mark Light
“We have monstrous waves that chase down our boat and then climb up behind us, massive walls of water that break at the crest and then come hurtling down towards the back of the boat. The art is to catch one of these monsters fairly square on and with enough speed to begin the most amazing sleigh ride ever."The boat feels like a torpedo being fired from a submarine (which is exactly how the boat feels) as she accelerates rapidly up to a full on surf speed,” explains Mark, as his team continue their game of cat and mouse with New York. “Speeds up to 25 knots have been achieved today and in the right direction. The feeling on the helm is amazing as the stern is picked up and you stand tall looking down the entire length of the boat and watch as the bow dips at first, then literally takes off and great spumes of water are sprung up from each side of the bow.
Much time is spent discussing the "off button" during the race. The worst thing
about a boat/race such as this is there is no way to stop the game if for whatever
reason you aren't enjoying it. This is what makes it so tough for the Round the
World-ers to see the race out because every month or so when back ashore they have
the option to walk away from the race. We have so far lost 5 of our 9 Round the
World-ers and it's not difficult to see why. At the start of this leg I gave this
topic a name - the Dorothy Button - referencing of course Wizard of Oz. We each had
the option, once only, to press our Dorothy button which would instantly rerturn us
home. Home is an important feature - lots enquired as to whether the button could
bring you 2 days out from San Fran - the answer was a strict no - this is all or
nothing stuff - the Clipper adventure would be over. Not too surprisingly most of
the Round the World-ers were up for pressing it right away - most are battle weary
and are stubbornly hanging in simply to complete the race - for them the option to
be finshed would be quite a luxury. Incredibly, a couple of leggers would have used
the option in week 1 - why you'd spend the time/money getting here to wish it away
is beyond me. The rest of us have flirted with it on many occasions - usually when
life at 45 degrees becomes a little too much. The concept has taken on a life of its
own - we spend hours talking about what the button looks like, how close we've come
to pressing it and the first things we'd do once we were teleported home.
Yesterday I pressed the button.
I had been on mother watch which is never my favourite job - 24 hours down below
preparing meals and hot drinks for 15 people for the day. It's pretty dull at the
best of times and a particularly miserable sea-state made it even harder than
normal. Usually, the boat is at a fairly fixed angle one side or the other. On that
basis you stack up all the things likely to fly around on the lower side of the
galley safe in the knowledgte that they can't fall down. This makes life a little
easier. Yesteday we had rough seas swaying from one side to the other. This made for
most of the day being spent picking up things from the floor - like bread dough
while trying to make bread, like lamb stew while trying to serve it etc etc. This
really wasn't fun. I had also (schoolboy error) offered to try to make yorkshire
puddings to accompany said stew - depsite managing down expectations, there was
boat-wide disappointment when I couldn't manage the feat due to no cooking oil and
an oven that wouldn't stay lit. Meanwhile, above deck, our 3rd place feels like it
is starting to slip away to a relentless NY boat slowly closing us down. We hoisted
our spinnaker (largest sail) and within 5 minutes had wrapped it and torn it on the
way back down - this was a huge setback to our race. A couple of minutes later the
stew pot once again lunged at the floor. I turned away, opened the glass protective
box and pressed the Dorothy Button. I had had enough.
In the real world this was merely a lot of cursing followed by cleaning up the mess
again, grinning and bearing it until dinner was finshed and then going to bed. This
morning after a good sleep and great boat speeds overnight I'm back on track. As
I've said before, in rough conmditions the best job on the boat is helming so not
doing it for 36 hours really takes away the fun factoir. I'm back up on deck in a
couple of hours and itching to get going in favourable 50 knot winds (90kmph) with
huge boat speeds being recorded. We've about 7 days to go till San Fran and are
still for now holding off NY in the race for 3rd. It would be just lovely to see
them give up just a little ground and allow us to enjoy the run in but they seem
unwilling to cooperate. So it remains a tense few days where any serious mistake
will cost us our much coveted podium place.
Day 20 of the race and we continue to fly along in very favourable racing
conditions. By tomorrow morning we will have less than 2000 miles to go - still
longer than most sailors will ever have completed in one go but for us a big
psychological barrier. At our current rate of 240 miles per day we will arrive
in 9 days, realistically it will be more like 11 days to go - all depends on
what the high presure in front of us does next. It's funny watching and counting
down the miles to go to san fran - obviously the faster we get there the better
we'll do in the race but the sooner this incredible experience will be over.
So it's very bitter sweet. Things like showers, flat beds, fresh food, normal
toilets, seeing friends and family and of course finishing in a podium place are
all big incentives to getting there as soon as possible so I think the trick is
to enjoy every minute while we're still out on this greast adventure. Living
conditions are better with the angle down to about 25 degrees now - still
frustrating as hell getting out of bed and dressed 3 times perday (all my lows
of the trip have been in this period). Getting out of bed when at a 45 degree
angle is basically like a letter trying to jump back out of a post box. But the
winds are favourable and we are enjopying some wonderful sailing.
Midway by name and nature; the fleet is now just over half way through their mammoth Pacific Ocean crossing, although they still have the equivalent of the breadth of the Atlantic to sail before they reach California!
So today we crossed the International Date Line which has lead to much confusion on board. We started today tomrrow, moved back into yesteray and are now back to today. In a straw poll of crew no one got the correct date or day once we crossed.....tad confusing to say the least. It has to be said that the concept of days and dates becomes fairly irrelevant on board., it's all about the next watch and our position on the leader board - other measures of time don't really matter
anymore. We also returned "home" into the Western Hemisphere which was much comfort to all...until I realised that we actually
live East of Greenwich so in fact ion the Eastern Hemisphere. We're trying to work out if that makes us Asian!? Race continues to go well - we've banged out a few 240 mile days which are keeping us nicely ahead of the chasing pack and slowly catching the 2 lead boats. Still over 2500 miles to go but it's going very well and as skipper put it today, barring
serious damage to our kit, someone has to sail right past us for us to lose our podium position and nothing we've seen to
date suggests that is about to happen. Weather has improved with winds at a more favourable angle and the boat pitch down from about 45 degrees to a mere 25-30 - sea state has calmed though so sleep is back on the agenda. Morale good on board still with the rapidly descendingh miles to finish providing a big boost each day. Back on watch now so have to hop. Will try to update again in the coming days if the weather holds as promised. Estimated arrival date in San Fran now the 3rd April but lots could change in the mean time.
Yesterday I changed my socks. I grant you that's hardly earth shattering, but if
I tell you that's the first time I've done so in 13 days it becomes a little
more controversial. And if I go on to tell you that they were the first items of
clothing I've changed since leaving Qingdao on the 4th March it begins to verge
on the offensive. Now in my defense there are mitigating circumstances.
Following the failure of our water maker in Qingdao we have been under strict
water rationing on our Pacific crossing. We have 1.5L per person per day for
drinking and sadly none at all for showering. Although this isn't quite as bad
as it sounds (details below) it does make it harder to justify changing clothes
on a regular basis. Not showering hasn't been nearly as bad as I feared - there
are good options - dry cleaning (deoderant), wet-wipe showers (cleaning "the
arches" on a daily basis with baby-wipes) and anti-bac hand wash make it all
very doable. And let's be honest, the cold weather also helps keeps smells to a
minimum, or at least well wrapped up. There are also other factors to consider -
with average air temperatures in the single digits, combined with wind-chill
means getting undressed is hardly a very inviting proposition. Of course we were
all very much aware of this before setting off so have equipped ourselves with
clever things like merino wool base layers which claim to never smell (so far so
good...I think) and to stay warm when wet - this feature is remarkably helpful
after getting a soaking on the foredeck. The other factor to consider is that we
are allowed a total of 20kg luggage for the trip. That includes "land clothes"
for before and after the race, all our gear, treats etc. The long and the short
of it is that you have to pack light. For most this involves a couple of pairs
of midlayers, and maybe 3-4 sets of base layers, including underwear. I had
contemplated washing while on the go but had forgotten that drying things on
these boats is pretty much impossible. The t-shirt hanging from my bunk for a
week now is wetter than when I first hung it to dry. I had consutled on this
topic with the original salty old sea dog (and Clipper instructor), Simon
Bradley who advised me to bring 2 pairs of underwear - one to wear and the other
for special occasions, like arriving into San Francisco. How true those words
ring now.
This is a topic of conversation that has recently arisen on the boat as
presumably we all go through the same thought process each morning of just how
long we can go without a change of pants. Our experiences seem to have been very
similar - not nearly as bad as we had feared, can't see any reason to change
them yet, how can it be wrong when it feels so right etc. The slightly worrying
thing is that we all noticed after about 4-5 days that we weren't smelling as
fresh as perhaps we might, that damp clothes were starting to smell and that
some of our crewmates were perhaps starting to smell mildly of cheese. Yet now
14 days in, these smells seem to have all "vanished". Hmmm. The fear and most
likely cause of this is that we have merely got used to our smells and now don't
notice them anymore. And sadly the tragic victims of this phenomenon will be our
beloved friends and family who come to meet us in San Francisco who will no
doubt confirm our greatest fears - yes, we do smell. Happy St Paddy's day! We started the day with a nice shot of jameson at 9am
before the morning watch! Think we're getting beer each with dinner too as a
treat.
It's been an eventful 48 hours on the good ship Derry. We've had 3 snapped ropes (stay sheet, yankee halyard andreef line 3), a life raft come untied (caught before it fell off!) and most seriously a broken steering cable which left us dead in the water for nearly 90 minutes whiler skipper fixed it. But I'm happy to report we've come through in one piece. Conditions remain extreme - 45-50 knot winds (about 85-90kmph) but thankfully behind us which leads to more pleasant conditions, very high speeds (23 knots registered today - about 40kmph) and incredible helming conditions. The seascape is simply stunning - rolling mountains of water with white horses as far as you can sea in every direction. There were many swells today of over 20m from peak to trough. Photos just don't do it justice but it is something I will never forget. We also had bright sunshine for most of the day - it really was the North Pacific at its finest. Helming (steering) has been fun but very tricky. I took over yesterday evening around dusk as a series of squalls
hit. One particularly strong one resulted in our first broach of the race - this is when a gust pulls the boat into a
sharp turn which tips over the whole boat dramatically ending with the boom (pole which the bottom of sails are attached to) in the water. All you can do is fight it and hold on until the gust eases. Thankfully skipper was on deck so all was fine, and given the next 3 helms had a further 6 broaches between them I felt a lot better about the
whole incident! Although a broach can be very dangerous to the boat, these were all relatively minor - it was
comedy value though watching each helm confidently take the wheel and within 10 minutes suffer the same
inevitable fate. Thankfully the conditions improved a little today so no further broaches to report.
The race continues to go well - we are currently around 4th or 5th and happy with our position (on the map rather than result) and boat speed. It looks like we'll be in a pack of 5 or 6 that will escape an imminent wind hole which will really split the fleet. The race remains very much on and we will be looking to improve our placing in the coming days. Tough headwinds predicted in 24-36 hours so sadly, life at 45 degrees will be on the cards again.
The storm and conditions as described by a competing skipper:
And here is Niall's update:“To give you an appreciation of the fun we are having, the sea state is rough to very rough. The current causes the waves to build steeply so they are more like walls of water and as the ‘Purple Beastie’ falls off the wall of water we nose dive straight into the next wave. The warm sea comes rushing down the deck washing the crew to their knees, the cockpit is constantly full of water and runs down the companionway steps like a waterfall, then we crash head on into the next wave with an almighty BOOM. The entire rig vibrates and anything that is not secured below flies from one side to the other. “Every muscle in your body is constantly under tension; this is like Ironman super circuits! With all that said and done, what an adrenaline rush you get from surfing the ‘Purple Beastie’ off one giant wave after another and feeling the raw power of the ocean as Mother Nature shows you who is clearly in charge!”
The calm after the storm today. After incredible conditions yesterday with huge
waves and winds gusting at 45knots (about 80-85kmph) today we have sunshine and light winds. Great to get the boat on an even keel again, get everything cleaned and organised and overall give the crew a much needed rest. We are here to race but it is nice to take a little pause and hopefully the whole fleet are in similar winds so we're not losing ground today.
Today I'm on Mother Watch which means I have to prepare 3 meals for 15 poeple as well as baking bread for said crew. The conditions are ideal today for it so I've been quite lucky there - as the rest of the crew keep pointing out. It's a more realxing day all around, chance to catch up on emails, sort out wet clothes and best of all we get a 14hour sleep tonight!
On the subject, for those not familiar with the watch system, the boat uses 2 watches on the following schedule:
8am-2pm - on watch. Awake at 7.20am, quick breakfast, up and ready to sail by 7.55. Lunch at 2.
2pm-8pm - off watch - eat, sleep, up at 7.20pm - eat dinner, get ready for deck by 7.55pm.
8pm-12am - on watch.
12am-4am - bed, up at 3.30 am, on deck by 3.55am
4am-8am - on watch.
This rolls on a 2 day basis to prevent working same watches each day/night. It works really well - plenty of sleep (unless conditions are very bad) and no watch ever feels too long. Anyway, back to my bread!
Today I had "the experience". Or maybe that should be in the present tense - today I am having "the experience". With the adrenaline of the start line long gone and 3 painfully long days of trying to live life below deck at 45 degrees (and associated lack of sleep) I was starting to experience my first dip in morale. Then this morning we woke to "The Pacific". Helming a 68 foot yacht through huge seas (it's all relative I know and we will most probably see far bigger seas before we reach San Fran but...) is a wonderful experience and one we are very lucky to be living.
We have seen peak to troughs of well over 15m (an average 2 bed house is 6-7m high) rolling through one after the other as far as the eye can see but on sails Derry- London Derry relentlessly ploughs through/around/over these mountains of water with not the slightest bother. Being at the trough and surrounded by walls of water might sound a little daunting but no sooner has she got to the bottom, then she climbs high over the next one over and over again.
It's exactly what I signed up for when I chose the Pacific leg and now just 7 days in it is already living up to all my hopes. On board, morale is good. The race is going well so far - we are currently in stealth mode so don't know our exact position but hope to be in the lead pack when we resurface tomorrow.
Update - on resurfacing they are in a good 3rd place as at Sat 10th March 2pm about 60 miles from Gold Coast the leaders but on a different trajectory.
The boat is still at a ridiculous angle and has been for 2 full days now and probably at least one more. It is great fun helming but any jobs below are ridiculously hard to do and sleeping is almost impossible too - as one of our crew put it today, "It would be hard to design an environment where sleeping was more difficult."
The race is going well though - don't worry too much about race viewer in terms of positions as they are measuring stright to San Fran which is a route none of us will take - the map is a more important indicator of how we are doing. We are currently about 2nd or 3rd and are in 'stealth' mode. we are hoping to hold or improve on our position while we're "invisible". (Each boat can do this twice during the race. Gold Coast have already done it once)
There is a long way to go still though so taking nothing for granted but it is good to be competitive though.
Still having a lot of fun here though and it will be so much more comfortable once the wind turns more westerly and the boat flattens out.
Qingdao stopover - what can I say? - bedlam is a word. I'll post further when I get back to land but a combination of boat prep, Clipper admin and very late boozing meant race start was a welcome relief!
Race morning gave us something of a bombshell though when our water maker packed up. So we loaded a ton extra of water and headed off. It means strict rationing of water - no showers (yes, no showers for 30+ days!!) and a big weight handicap. No point complaining though - at least we made the start line and now, after 24 hours of motoring we are finally racing. Brilliant to be out sailing again and although fairly cold, conditions are good.
Day 1
After 24 very frustrating hours motoring south east of Qingdao, word finally came through from Clipper Race HQ that we would soon be racing. It was going to be a Le Mans start to the race - a technique many of us had practiced already in training. It involves all crews preparing their boats to sail while still sailing under engine with just the main sail raised. All 10 boats line up in the same speed and direction alongside then all cut engines at the same time and then one minute later crews are "released" to raise sails and start racing. It is a great test of crew coordination and trimming ability as ultimately there are ten identical boats moving in the same direction at the same speed in the same tight stretch of water so it is massively rewarding to see your boat pulling away from others. It is quite an impressive site watching ten 68 foot racing boats lined up this way but sadly on this occasion, other than a few unimpressed seagulls there weren't many around to appreciate it. And so the race was finally on. Although it didn't feel like our start when particularly well, the trimming was good and we were probably third off the line. Then the relentless game of "trim, trim and trim again" began. We've had a good six or seven boats in sight for most of the day and are probably now in a satisfactory fourth or fifth place. In truth given our weight disadvantage we feared we wouldn't be quite as competitive. This disadvantage was not just down to the extra-large size of some of the crew members joining on this leg, but down to the extra ton on water we had to take on board yesterday before we departed due to the fact that our water maker packed up on departure morning from Qingdao. It's far from ideal but we certainly are not complaining - the alternative was a one week delay in China which would have all but ended our race before it had even begun. For me as a legger joining the race this week it's wonderful to finally be racing. Next stop San Francisco in early April and in the mean time a whole lot of fun ocean racing.
