Location: Underway to Richard’s Bay
As Mac announced at dinner yesterday, we will be sailing through a storm this evening, through swells coming from the Southern Ocean. We were told to be prepared, the worst of the storm peaking at 3 a.m., and it was gradually getting better the next day. Although we were warned, nothing could have prepared us for the actual storm.
I was on watch team 3, on from 8 p.m. to 12 a.m. Around 9 p.m., I took the helm and saw red storm clouds showing up on the radar. We started preparing by dogging the hatches, closing the main companionway, and putting on fowlies. It was like a slow-motion scene from a movie, watching us get closer and closer to the squall. While I was trying to aim for our course, the wind was changing directions, and the sails started to flap while we were on course, and Mac took control of the helm.
First, there was the darknesspitch blackness. Every ounce of light from the heavens was blocked by the clouds, and you could not distinguish between the ocean and the sky. Then it was rain, which quickly turned into hail, a thousand tiny stings on any exposed skin. It was difficult to keep my eyes open, even with attempts to pull my Fowlie hood more out, as the wind was blowing the hail almost horizontally. The wind, sometimes going up to 40 knots, was whistling, screaming, howling. You can feel its force turning into wind resistance as it’s caught on fowlies, trying to push you backwards if you’re standing up.
We were told to all move on the high side. Then we tacked, and everyone swapped sides. We moved carefully, crouching down to our hands and knees, and taking extra caution to clip in. Mac even told us to move down into the cockpit instead of sitting on the caprail because of the conditions. Wanting to admire the waves, Destiny and I stood in the cockpit, clinging to the babaloo.
The squall was an absolutely impressive display of nature’s force. Sailing directly into the swells, the boat tilted bow to stern, stern to bow. Waves broke at the bow as the boat plunged into the water, creating two massive walls of waves and seaspray. It reminded us of the movie Maiden Voyage, when their boat was riding the swells in the Southern Ocean. The boat’s red and green light, which demonstrates the port and starboard aspects, lit up the white seaspray as it flew through the air, then filled in the foredeck and midship. Later in the evening, when Hannah was doing the deck check, she noticed that the deckie brush poles were floating around in the pond at mid-ship.
Each time the boat bounces, it creates two wakes rushing outwards away from Vela, only to crash into the massive swells coming towards us. You can hear the two waves with their destructive interference crash into each other over the sound of the engine and howling wind. They destroy each other, turning each other into incredible white sprays which then splashes down into the ocean or on us. Sometimes, the boat leaves behind a flat wake, where a beautiful line of white foam spreads out from Vela into the darkness. Dotted by bioluminescent blue, painting the pitch-black canvas, and gradually disappearing into the darkness. While I was trying to think of something, anything, analogous to the feeling of that squall, nothing could compare.
In all that craziness, the fish and the flying jib came loose and were flapping hard in the wind. Once the squall calmed down (only a little), Zeke, Vera, and I went with Mac and Perry to secure the fish, passing them sail-ties and helping them wrap lines around the fish. We then had to go back because Mac needed to helm as the wind changed directions and the sails went flapping again.
Then, Mac, Perry, Vera, and Zeke went off to the bow to secure the flying jib. Mac borrowed an additional tether from Destiny, who braved the conditions and potential seasickness to go down below to do a boat check, and with three tethers in, was about to climb onto the bowsprit. That’s when a wall of water appeared in front of the bow as the boat went up, then dropped down, and then an entire wave crashed over the bow. Mac and Perry, at the tip of the bow, were completely submerged, which caused Mac’s PFD to go *poof* and inflate. When he came back to the cockpit, he looked like a neon green Santa, but with a black beard instead of white.
Meanwhile, the wave flooded 15cm of water into the foredeck, conquering Vera’s waterproof boots. Mac, now neon green, persevered and went on the Martin Gale, taming the sails and lashing it to the boom with Perry’s help. Zeke and Vera stayed at the pinrail to make sure Mac and Perry are ok, and ready to pass them the sail-ties.
After securing the sails, they went to tighten down the flying jib downhaul and halyard, which were loose. Mac and Perry tied the downhaul, so now they need to take up tension on the halyard. Zeke was trying to sweat as Vera tailed, but he was lifted by the force of the flying jib into the air, swung around VeraTarzan styleand then came back down. Mac and Perry jumped in to help, but with all three sweating, they were just barely able to get some tension and make off. After their work at the bow, which was still going up and down, even Mac and Perrytwo people who are not usually the first to be sickfelt sick. Sam, on the helm, felt sick and was musing on her strategy of racing against her stomach to 1) take off her PFD, 2) take off her fowlies, 3) do a freshwater rinse, 4) brush her teeth, 5) crawl into bed, and 6) fall asleep before she throws up. When she woke up Emmaand usually stays down below for a few minutes to just chat with herdid not and just said “are you awake I need to go up before I barf” and Emma was like “I promise I’m awake!”
All of that was technically yesterday from 8:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m. Now for the actual November 15th blog. Watch team 3 was on the 8 AM-noon watch, and one of the first things I noticed when I went up for watch was that the flying jib is loose again, this time with a massive tear in it, which is sad. Because it was already ripped, Mac decided to only send someone later when it’s safer to secure it again. The waves were still massive, it was partly sunny, less windy than last night, and much warmer. Despite how impressive it looked last night, we were actually barely moving, going 2 knots because the wind and current are both working directly against us. This morning, it was calm enough that we were going 5 knots.
Now that it’s daytime, we can watch the waves come. We watched as the boat motor up massive horizontal swells, some of them 5 or 6 meters tall, and it reminded me of that wave scene in Interstellar. As the boat reaches the top of the swell, we feel it tip, the gravity shifts, and the boat surfs downwards until the bow pierces straight into the next swell. Huge seasprays turned into canvases for rainbows when it’s lit up by the sun the right way, then, falling onto the boat alongside the crashing waves, fill the bow and midship with water. The sideways wake was impressive tooa brilliant emerald green glow decorates the base of some white caps created by the crashing of the boat’s wake and the waves. White caps crashed and flew, then the breaking crest runs free alongside the ship like a thousand (gift) horses galloping. After which, white foam in the pattern of large fish scales spreads behind the waves, and where air bubbles are swallowed by the waves, patches of light, piercing blue glows on top of the deep blue colored ocean. We watched as the ocean alternated between bands of deep blue and black swells, where the clouds blocked out the sun and created shade.
Destiny, Sam, and Keith braved the intense conditions and started chefing at 9:30 a.m. They harnessed their heroic cooking skills to keep the galley from falling apart, and together mastered the incredible chicken (which was many people’s appreciation of the day) as Vela climbed up and down 4-6 meter swells.
Near the end of the watch, Perry, Emma, and I went to see if there was water in the anchor locker. We immediately noticed that the anchor locker hatch wasn’t even closed it had popped open, and as the boat turned, we saw water splashing *out* from it, which answers the question of whether there’s water in the anchor locker. They started the pump as we watched the water level go down, and the anchor locker key was gone, and Perry mused on where it might be. “If it was here *points near anchor chain area* and the waves are going this way *points towards starboard aft*, the key must be” and as we turn around like a movie camera panning, we spotted it caught right at the side of the boat. While we were up there, I got a couple of full saltwater showers as the bow plunged into the waves, and during an extra hard roll, Emma slid across the bow directly onto Perry, which was funny. We eventually closed the anchor locker to prevent setbacks as more waves crashed onto the bow.
Knowing that most of us would be incredibly seasick if we had class, Mac canceled class, allowing us to take naps and get rest. And as time went on, the waves (very) gradually calmed down, so we used the rest of the afternoon to do literature reviews, draw fish ID logs, and hang out in the salon, which was also many of us’s appreciation of the day.
Finally, despite the adverse conditions, bucketing was not nearly as intense as I was concerned about. This is mostly due to the slow speed of the ship as the wind and current continue to work against us, and the rocking leads mid-ship to be (as) stable (as it can get).