One Race Down

[update from Tam]

One race down, 8 to go

I’m tempted to call it a day now and leave on a high note – we’ve just had a relatively easy race, gorgeous weather, and finished with a podium position in third place. Altogether a gentle introduction to ocean racing, and one that makes a mockery of the amount of time I spent worrying before leaving the UK.

Life on board seemed to settle into a routine astonishingly quickly, helped by having a flattish boat as we headed downwind. Being on watch for 10 or 14 hours a day means that sleep becomes a pre-occupation, though mother watch every 6 days fairly much guarantees 8 hours of shut-eye and allows some time for the less essential parts of life (whilst I’m convinced that maintaining the red nail-varnish on my toes makes the boat go faster, it seems that the view is not shared). And admittedly anyone who’s ever shared a room with me will know that getting to sleep quickly has never been too much of a challenge. Even the occasional chance to watch a DVD and eat popcorn, which has a surreal edge when you’re hooning along in the Indian Ocean.

And the racing itself? Light wind sailing – in fact sometimes no wind sailing. One night watch was spent on the helm watching the boat speed instrument move from 0.0 knots to 0.1 knots and back again, which is incredibly frustrating when you know that there are another 1000nm to go. And those of you who keep an eye on the NY or Clipper websites will know that we spent 50% of the time playing tag with other boats. Firstly Liverpool, who at least had the decency to maintain a mile or two between us, then Victoria, who at one point were 30 feet off our stern firing oranges at us from a catapult (we take our racing seriously…..). Both of them vanquished however by a sneaky gybe west with 36 hours to go, and in the end we crossed the line with a good 4 hours spare in front of 4th. The usual corporate party has been delayed due to the finish line being at the start of the Sunda Straits, so instead we hove to just after 1am, stuck the deck speakers on loud, and worked our way through a considerable amount of alcohol while we waited to cheer Victoria over the line.


What next?

We’re currently motoring the remaining 700nm to Singapore, which is proving a tiresome task. We’re going upwind so there’s constant spray over the deck and a regular slamming as the boat drops off the edge of a wave. Added to which it’s still ridiculously hot, and my bunk fan spontaneously combusted last night so sleep has transformed into 8 hours of laying there sweating. Not a pleasant experience, and I suspect that the boat is reaching nuclear levels of smelliness. Victoria, Singapore and Liverpool are motoring with us as a pirate deterrent, and night watches seem to be punctuated by one or other’s engines breaking which mean setting up a tow. Still, we’re due in on Sunday afternoon so only 24 hours to go. And before then we have the equator crossing; as the only equator virgins, David and I have to go on trial before Neptune to plead guilty to our crimes. Chances of being let off? Nil. Punishment? The slops bucket being ceremoniously emptied over our heads I believe. Then a can of beer for Neptune (as we drank all the champagne after the finish) to hopefully ensure a continuing safe voyage. We’re in Singapore for nearly two weeks, so a chance to rediscover the joys of freshwater showers, cold drinks and breakfast that doesn’t involve porridge. Then back to the grindstone as we head for the cold industrial wasteland of Quindao. But I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.