Location: North Atlantic
This was a tester. Just past midnight, as the wind was beginning to freshen up, watch team 2 struck the flying jib sail. Out on the bowsprit, soaring over the water and then plunging towards it in the darkness, Duncan and Abi helped me with flaking and securing the fair-weather sail. Duncans only gripe getting the knees of his red flannel PJ pants wet in the spray. Not long after retiring to the cockpit, feeling well accomplished, the stiffer breeze had us whisking along at 9 knots and had all of watch team 2 in a giddy mood of sorts. The new name of the team, organically derived, was set in stone by way of a certain ceremony please ask your respective student for further details
By 8 oclock, I was woken when I noticed that I was being shoved against the left side of my bunk rather than the right, indicating that we had gybed. I shifted in bed and noticed that the boat had changed its motion in many more ways than its direction of heel. I was weightless for a second and then was sucked into the mattress by an extra G or two before being tossed onto my left shoulder again. The seas had indeed picked up, and I heard voices in passing, How many Calums are out there? My name is now used as the unofficial reference for wave height since explaining how to fill out the hourly logbook. 1 Calum = 6 ft =sea state moderate. 2.5 Calums + = sea state rough. So there were more Calums out there today than weve seen thus far, and we were humbled in many ways indeed. Some were drenched while striking the main staysl, by both waves and rain. Others faced the challenge of navigating the four watertight doors, each swinging in on hinges at around 15 Kgs on the hourly round of boat checks, and others that of simply using the heads while getting a taste for the true meaning of 40/40 (40 knots of wind, 40 degrees of heel). Imagine the toilet seat youve come to trust for its sturdiness, tipping back and forth through 80 degrees and then trying to buck you off. Theres simply no such thing as good aim either
Lunch plans were altered to resemble a rolling down below builds your own sandwich bar. Never has Nutella on white bread been so appreciated by a couple of upset stomachs. There was a respite from the wind, rain, and seas into the afternoon. Those off watch made use of the time to get some much-needed rest as they were realising the rigors of a sea chunkier than that which resembled the doldrums and more like the high 30-degree latitudes were exploring now eastwards towards the Azores.
By dinner, Im proud to say that everybody had rallied, albeit with a new portfolio of bumps and bruises to compare. We sat huddled together around the cockpit, glad for the warmth of the smiles and laughter that still made its rounds, as well as the warm meal in our bellies. The sky still hangs low and heavy, but the sea has mellowed for now, and were all giving our foulies a good shake out for the night.
The photos show where we spent much time watching today, over our shoulders for the big swells, a very welcome dinner lineup, and then a group photo which can hopefully be appreciated later on as the end of a day with its literal ups and downs but ultimately conquered.