The long awaited weather arrived, with a pinch of salt on my side

News of the three days...
The previous two days were torturous, we were left with absolutely no
wind as we fell behind the low pressure system, sitting in the middle of
South Atlantic in misery, while the rest of the fleet was screaming
miles over miles... Situation not recommended. It requires a rich stock
of patience, and has a lot to keep a stiff upper lip about.
That misery finally came to an end today very early morning: we were the
first boat to get into another depression system coming from south-west.
Finally, for the first time, we happened to make more milage than the
rest of the fleet for a schedule period. Not enough to put us back into
the game, but provides a source of motivation.
The weather and sea state has proven South Atlantic its' worth: 3-5m of
waves, approaching from port aft, in low frequencies, still breaking on
the boat, wind continuously blowing around 30 knots, gusting to 35,
occassionally upto 50knots. 2 reefs in (basically, making the main sail
much smaller), smaller head sails hoisted, still we're only able to
steer marginally among being pushed to an accidental gybe by a strong
wave, or being overpowered and broached by a strong gust. The helm is a
struggle, there's a tiny interval of comfortable helming (about five
degrees), from which a wave or a gust steers the boat away, requiring
great effort to maintain the boat's stability. ABSOLUTELY GREAT
STUFF...In the mean time, we're made wet by waves, made wet by the rain,
really challenging.
Yet, I had to take all this with a pinch of salt: I could only enjoy it
for only 3 hours, before my Motherwatch Torturous Prison time started
AGAIN... This one, has been a mental, emotional and physical challenge:
having helmed for just enough to introduce myself to the pleasure and
being deprived of it immediately feels like a punishment already. This,
without considering the status at the galley; which is far from being
civilised: the boat heals from 50-60 degress onto one side to to
30degress to the other in every 5 minutes, crushes into waves, and
trying cooking and washing up physically hurts (I have a serious bruise
at my back now, as well as two burns: one on the hand the other on the
leg from a tray flying over and a tea spilling). The Equator Baptising
of pasting food over us (which we passed) has caught up with me today at
the galley. Half of my shorts is covered in hot chocolate (a half full
glass simply landed over me at a tilt), a quarter with canned tomatoes
(half of a a newly opened can spilled all through the galley), socks
soaked in chilly oil souce (lucky about that one, the jar had an
artistic jump from the storage basket and attacked the galley. Missed me
by a cm, and landed and crushed by me), shirt soaked in milk and tea.
Through this race, anything that happened had an adventure about it. I
had not felt grumpy, until today: today I gave in... Knowing what I'm
missing up on deck, and being imprisoned to a painful and very
unpleasant job in the mean time has been one thing I could not be
positive about.
Looking at it from the bright side: we did cook one of the best dinners
on board, rice with a delicious tuna sauce, panatony served with a
special cinnamon sauce, 4 loafs of bread: two with herbs, 2 with
wallnuts and raisins.
Nevertheless, I have never been into cooking, but after this traumatic
experience, I think I might just as well live in a house without a
kitchen. Can cook if I need to, but WON'T cook.
Sooooooo looking forward to being on deck again, and helming...
That's the news from the past days
Keep an eye on me:)