Landfall in Cape Town
Standing along the pier at the V&A Waterfront, watching each of the boats get ready for departure, bags strewn all over the deck, crew scrurrying on and off with last minute tasks to complete and good byes to be said; I feel strange watching the scene unfold.
Just about a month ago, I was part of that departure skirmish, dealing with a mix of emotions as I prepared for my first ever ocean crossing. It was supposed to be a quick 14 day rollercoaster ride downwind to the Cape of Good Hope. But unfolded into quite the adventure.
My earlier blog was all about our close encounter with a whale. After a short repair stopover we restarted our journey on October 10th. This time, having faced the stormy seas and weathered some rounds of seasickness I was rather apprehensive about revisiting that experience.
That turned out to be the least of my worries as we made slow, hard work of our hop across the pond ( as the Brits term it). Given the loss of days, we were no longer in the race for Leg 2, and the sole purpose of our trip was to ensure safe delivery of our steed to Cape Town in order to start off with the fleet for Leg 3. To ensure minimal turnaround time we had to sail conservatively, avoid further damage to the boat and follow a route that kept us above the lows and below the highs. In the brief interval before our restart, the weather changed dramatically for us and we seemed to be constantly battling heavy weather, bone chillingly cold days & nights and sea showers.
The night watches were a nightmare when we had heavy weather and all we had to do was hold position at a particular winch on deck in case a change in wind or waves warranted some adjustment to our sails. To keep warm we would rotate from winch to winch to galley (for a warm break) to winch again. That is if we were not helming. Those who helmed as well, took 45 minute turns to steer the boat while their fingers froze around the helm, since no gloves seemed capable of keeping us warm against the insidious cold. A lot of gloves were bought in Cape Town last week.
Typically, if on a night we did the 2000 to 2400 watch then we got a break for the next four hours and came back on deck between 0400 and 0800 for the dawn watch. I, personally, liked this cycle as it was always a good feeling to sit up there and watch the stars, the Milky Way and the Southern Cross melt away into a glorious sun rise. And that second watch particularly made me introspective. The number of issues I have resolved in those dawn hours probably have me enroute to nirvana.
On the other hand, if we did the 2400 to 0400 watch then we also got to do the morning watch from 0800 to 1400. This was the sociable watch. If the weather was good this was the time for conversations, story swapping, book reviews, reminiscences and sail training. I preferred to helm during the day and would try and do at least a session every day. With a down wind sail, the trick was to catch a wave and surf down it to ensure speeds over 10nm per hour. Once I got the hang of it, it was quite a heady feeling.
Such close proximity also got us very comfortable with each other and we were soon swapping stories. It would usually start with the standard question; what led you to take up this Race? There were a lot of recently retired men on our boat and most seemed to have decided to gift themselves a retirement sail around the world. They were also frequent sailors and in several cases had their own boats; but, had mostly done coastal sailing. And these guys fell into two distinct categories. One, very individualistic, confident and good at what they did, but happy to do what was asked of them and retire into their personal space. The other, natural leaders, easily taking their watch crew with them, teaching without making it seem like a lesson, always with a weather eye on the rookies and always, always considerate about every crew member.
Trevor and Roy are very much in the latter mold. They drove home the realisation that years at sea hone character and make humble, caring, trustworthy, sturdy gentlemen. Yes, there are more men than women sailors, so I cannot comment on the latter; not yet at least.
The last couple of days stretched to eternity though. The south westerly winds brought the icy antartic to our door step and chilled us to the bone. The challenging sail and the inordinate amount of time had frayed tempers and it took conscious effort to keep a civil atmoshere.
Finally, finally we sighted land on the morning of October 28. Then the winds died down! So we started up the engines and motored into the port. We expected a quiet, subdued entry with just the Clipper staff to help us come ashore.
What we got was a rock star welcome, all guns blazing! It was absolutely fantastic to see the pier lined with cheering, hooting, singing, waving well wishers. Without much ado, we were along side with two cases of chilled beer on board and popping a super size bottle of champagne. And then my crew mates did an impromptu birthday song for me. The cherry on the cake, was a big bear hug from Sir Robin.
And as the fleet takes off on Leg 3, I watch from the other side of the start line. Fair winds and following seas, mates!
Just about a month ago, I was part of that departure skirmish, dealing with a mix of emotions as I prepared for my first ever ocean crossing. It was supposed to be a quick 14 day rollercoaster ride downwind to the Cape of Good Hope. But unfolded into quite the adventure.
My earlier blog was all about our close encounter with a whale. After a short repair stopover we restarted our journey on October 10th. This time, having faced the stormy seas and weathered some rounds of seasickness I was rather apprehensive about revisiting that experience.
That turned out to be the least of my worries as we made slow, hard work of our hop across the pond ( as the Brits term it). Given the loss of days, we were no longer in the race for Leg 2, and the sole purpose of our trip was to ensure safe delivery of our steed to Cape Town in order to start off with the fleet for Leg 3. To ensure minimal turnaround time we had to sail conservatively, avoid further damage to the boat and follow a route that kept us above the lows and below the highs. In the brief interval before our restart, the weather changed dramatically for us and we seemed to be constantly battling heavy weather, bone chillingly cold days & nights and sea showers.
The night watches were a nightmare when we had heavy weather and all we had to do was hold position at a particular winch on deck in case a change in wind or waves warranted some adjustment to our sails. To keep warm we would rotate from winch to winch to galley (for a warm break) to winch again. That is if we were not helming. Those who helmed as well, took 45 minute turns to steer the boat while their fingers froze around the helm, since no gloves seemed capable of keeping us warm against the insidious cold. A lot of gloves were bought in Cape Town last week.
Typically, if on a night we did the 2000 to 2400 watch then we got a break for the next four hours and came back on deck between 0400 and 0800 for the dawn watch. I, personally, liked this cycle as it was always a good feeling to sit up there and watch the stars, the Milky Way and the Southern Cross melt away into a glorious sun rise. And that second watch particularly made me introspective. The number of issues I have resolved in those dawn hours probably have me enroute to nirvana.
On the other hand, if we did the 2400 to 0400 watch then we also got to do the morning watch from 0800 to 1400. This was the sociable watch. If the weather was good this was the time for conversations, story swapping, book reviews, reminiscences and sail training. I preferred to helm during the day and would try and do at least a session every day. With a down wind sail, the trick was to catch a wave and surf down it to ensure speeds over 10nm per hour. Once I got the hang of it, it was quite a heady feeling.
Such close proximity also got us very comfortable with each other and we were soon swapping stories. It would usually start with the standard question; what led you to take up this Race? There were a lot of recently retired men on our boat and most seemed to have decided to gift themselves a retirement sail around the world. They were also frequent sailors and in several cases had their own boats; but, had mostly done coastal sailing. And these guys fell into two distinct categories. One, very individualistic, confident and good at what they did, but happy to do what was asked of them and retire into their personal space. The other, natural leaders, easily taking their watch crew with them, teaching without making it seem like a lesson, always with a weather eye on the rookies and always, always considerate about every crew member.
Trevor and Roy are very much in the latter mold. They drove home the realisation that years at sea hone character and make humble, caring, trustworthy, sturdy gentlemen. Yes, there are more men than women sailors, so I cannot comment on the latter; not yet at least.
The last couple of days stretched to eternity though. The south westerly winds brought the icy antartic to our door step and chilled us to the bone. The challenging sail and the inordinate amount of time had frayed tempers and it took conscious effort to keep a civil atmoshere.
Finally, finally we sighted land on the morning of October 28. Then the winds died down! So we started up the engines and motored into the port. We expected a quiet, subdued entry with just the Clipper staff to help us come ashore.
What we got was a rock star welcome, all guns blazing! It was absolutely fantastic to see the pier lined with cheering, hooting, singing, waving well wishers. Without much ado, we were along side with two cases of chilled beer on board and popping a super size bottle of champagne. And then my crew mates did an impromptu birthday song for me. The cherry on the cake, was a big bear hug from Sir Robin.
And as the fleet takes off on Leg 3, I watch from the other side of the start line. Fair winds and following seas, mates!
Well done!
ReplyDeleteThanks mate :)
ReplyDeleteCongratulations Ma'am!
ReplyDeleteThanks Vartika. Proud of what you have achieved so far. Fair winds...for the rest of your trip. Cheers
ReplyDelete