bets are high on us reaching the end of this leg by late tomorrow…
It felt like the whole race has gone by in an instant, and although I'm
looking forward to the finish line from a racing perspective, I can't
help to regret it's coming to an end.
And, having said that, it sounds like the best time to have a look back
at the race, its ups and downs…
Top things I will be missing dearly:
- Sailing, especially helming during a sun rise or sun set, or
moon rise or set. Even more so if we're sailing through big swells, the
feeling is surely elevating
- Waking up and getting on deck to face the infinite horizon lying
in all directions. Being greeted with a bright pallet of colors or an
impressive night crowded with stars. Admiring the sea and the sky for
their inspiring, simple, yet changing and comprehensive beauty. Having
the time to concentrate on and appreciate this amazing universe, without
the distractions of the city-life
- Sheer single mindedness and simplicity in boat life.
Concentration on sailing, and nothing else really
- Deciding upon a sail change, and running it. The physical
challenge in carrying, hanking, dropping, flipping, bagging the huge
sails, running all the lines, trimming to the new setting. All followed
by the meditating moments of relaxation, when there's not a sound of a
thought, just the amazing feeling of charm for the sails and the nature
all around; it's a moment of admiration of and total submission to
nature.
- Helming, especially through 20 knots plus and high seas. The
responsibility alone of keeping the boat and crew safe, yet meeting the
course and speed expectations is demanding. This topped with the
physical effort and absolute concentration required to make it happen is
a perfect challenge. Helming, even under easier conditions, the feeling
of making miles in the middle of the Atlantic while driving a 68 foot
racer is blinding. I will be missing it most dearly
- Climbing up the spinnaker pole for a spinnaker drop / change.
God, that's amazing. Climbing via the rope that holds the pole down,
then sitting on the pole about 4-5meters above and about 3 meters away
from deck promises the view of the sea running directly beneath my foot,
and a nice bird-eye view of the boat. Accompanied by a brief adrenalin
rush as the boat's movement and the pull of the spinnaker is felt even
more strongly up there. I don't know what's so chanting for me about
heights, but I always get a rewarding feeling when I climb up somewhere
on deck. (I apparently belong to a different specie: climbers. The ones
who would envy the person wearing a harness, and would be happy to be
hoisted up in any weather. There are a few on board, spread across the
three watches to ensure all are happy)
- The foredeck experience, running the lines to go while being
splashed by waves at a rocking pulpit is another experience I will miss
dearly
- Listening to the movement of the boat and the waves hitting the
hull when I lie down in my bunk for a sleep. Feeling the sea flow right
by me is soothing, and the sound is like a lullaby.
- The occasional interactions with wild-life. The sea-birds which
kept us in company particularly in leg 2, the dolphins which would come
around for a play at times, the huge impressive whales showing off their
massiveness.
- The crew chats, and how the different personalities came
together to form a great team. Definitely have gained friendships of a
life time, and will be missing these newly made relations.
- Living on so few items, having as few things as a monk, amazing
how much access items we feel we're in need of in our daily lives.
Things I will be thankful for coming back to:
- Leaving the "favela" smells behind. Good lord, that's a heavy,
unpleasant one
- Not wearing layers over layers, and definitely not being
bothered about the foul weather gear. It's sooo hard to get into and get
out of with all the water protections seals and no zipper at the front.
Very heavy and bulky. I wonder if it's just a foul-gear for the trouble
it gives. Definitely will not be missing feeling like an astronaut at
each watch. The other thing I will not miss about the gear will be the
safety line. We clip on almost always, and get tangled very frequently
when it's stuck to a rope, particularly annoying when trying to carry a
sail forward. I thought so much about dogs suffering their collor and
line on this trip…
- Taking a proper shower. Even on daily basis! What a bless?
Haven't taken one since 18 days now, I know, disgusting, but feels less
so when no one does. We have gone back to our baby days: we take a
baby-wipe shower to avoid infections and skin breakdown.
- Proper toilets, with a proper toilet flush, one which you don't
have to pump 40 times to deplete the contents, and which does not block
every so often. One that does not move, and risk to throw you out of the
cabin in inadequate manner.
- A big, soft, stable bed, with clean fresh linings, in which I
can take a 6 hour undisturbed sleep.
- Healthy, quality food. We're literally hallucinating about good
food: a cheese plate starter with white wine, a thick medium-rare steak
with grilled vegetables and fresh salad as side dishes accompanied with
a strong red wine, fruit salad served with a orange juice&liquor syrup
and topped with ice-cream, an intense dessert: preferably a chocolate
soufflé served with double cream, powder sugar and a few strawberries to
go with it. Give a brief break to enjoy a digestive port wine.
Gooooodddddd
- A good long walk, or a run is even better. It would be a
pleasure to use some leg muscles for a purpose other than balancing.
And the best moments to remember:
- Two moments at the helm: the one at 30-40 knots breeze with 4-5m
waves and swells in Leg2, and helming through a heavy squall in Leg1.
Woooooo
- Doing the rig check in the middle of the ocean in Leg1. It was
an impressive view, and so pleasant to be so high up, while it was as
hard to hold on
- Two special moments up at the pole: the first time we peeled the
spinnaker in Leg1 (basically deploy a spinnaker when the first one is
still on, and drop the primary one afterwards; requires to go up the
pole with the new spinnaker's clew, the new halyard, and run a exchange
the setting from one spinnaker to the other). Also, going up there at
night when we were screaming 12-14 knots and through big swells. I
really was holding there for my dear life in Leg2…
- The night in Leg2, when we had a clear sky glimmering with
stars and a bright moon, one of the few. We watched the moon set in
amazing dark orange colors, the changing color of the sky from darkness
first to navy blue, dissolving at every moment into lighter blues at
dawn. And then watched the sun rise, in pinks and oranges, splashing its
rays through the few clouds. All in one watch. It was heavenly
- Setting out from Hull, saluting the cheering 100 thousand
spectators. Then the silent race starts from La Rochell in the lead of
Joshua, and the Rio start where we sailed at the shores of Sugar Loaf
and Copacabana Beach. Sailing head to head against the rest of the
fleet, and leaving the land behind. They were all so pleasant moments…
- Dropping a yankee double-handed at 25 knots wind. It was
dreadfully hard, yet I felt pretty proud of it once I was through it.
- The few times when Dolphins came in to play with the boat. They
give me a sense on intense happiness and excitement. Such playful,
clever, agile, lean and beautiful creatures. Amazing…
- When the bread we made on our final motherwatch, under very
challenging circumstances turned out to be absolutely amazing. I offered
a walnut-raisin one, while Davide cooked one with herbs. Both were
strictly favoured by the crew, nice:)
- The first meal I ate after I got over flu & sea-sickness in
Leg1.
So much so for the recap. Overall, it was an impressive experience,
challenging physically and at times mentally or socially, yet very very
rewarding. Improved dramatically in terms of sailing, and discovered a
new source of patience and acceptance within me against situations one
cannot change. And overall, I have raced sailing across two oceans! I
know it may not be everyone's cup of tea, but if you feel any excitement
within yourself about it, I would strongly recommend you to get up and
give it a go…
Sailing the very last bits now.
Will keep you posted about the end of the race as well, so keep an eye
on me for another day or two:)
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