Boats, Big Brother and Bumrot

I know, I know. This update has taken forever to arrive but I have had a busy and stressful week or so; more on that in subsequent entries! Also, I didn't technically go to the Cape Verde Islands but it's the only option I have on this blog site to enter and it's the only land we came near to enroute!

So, after leaving you last time in Las Palmas, we had an early start down at the marina. Paul and I had been tasked with collecting McMuffins for everyone but, major disaster, McD's was not open and there was no 24 hour store in the town - aaaargh! We can't start a 3,000 mile voyage with no fuel! Mick had also told us not to bother turning up unless we were armed with breakfast so we volunteered to find something in the marina. We spent a lot of time hanging around Lancelot just waiting to go really and finally at 11am we motored out, to the sounds of Phil Collins 'In the Air Tonight'. Personally, I would have gone for something with a bit more oomph but never mind; the atmosphere was excellent and everyone on board in great and excited spirits.

Just to introduce the crew: we had Jacko and Mick, our fantastic skippers; Debs who had done it last year on Lancelot (and was my saviour throughout!); Prue, a seasoned sailor; Lia from Holland who is also a sailor and Paul, Rob and myself who were the rookies.

At 12.40 the guns sounded and we were off across the start line - not so important in a race like this as it hardly makes much difference to your finishing time but we were all very excited all the same.

A few hours later we sat down to a great lunch of tortilla and fresh salad - which I promptly threw up over the side shortly afterwards - noooooo! I'd been precautious and taken some tablets and I also had my seabands on (which I swear don't work or are at least psychological - I took great pleasure in throwing the manky things away when we reached the finishing line!). I felt marginally better later on so had some dinner (home-made lasagne) which I think I managed to keep down all of about half an hour - doh! I started to panic that this was going to be the norm for the next 2-3 weeks (great weight loss programme though!) and, although the sea was very calm, I felt dreadful. Luckily, although the queasiness lasted for almost the first week and meant I had to be ready to get horizontal in bed as soon as I was below deck and make sure the ay was clear to get on deck in one quick movement, it then disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.

Rob was not so lucky. He started throwing up as I stopped but his sickness lasted for a good few days - it was so serious that he couldn't even keep water down. The rest of the crew finally had a meeting and it was agreed that we should head directly for the Cape Verde islands with a view to getting him medivac'ed the following morning if there was no improvement. I think we were all secretly hoping that this would happen (obviously first and foremost that Rob was ok) as, if we were going to have to abandon the race, we could at least spend the day in a different country and get some pics and video of a chopper rescue! As it was, the next morning the wind and waves completely disappeared and it was so flat that when Jacko asked if anyone fancied a swim, I have never see anyone perk up and jump up as quickly as Rob - he tore his clothes off and jumped in with no hesitation!! So there we all were, swimming in the middle of the Atlantic - with 3 miles of big and deep blue below. This seemed to have the right effect on Rob (who we kept a close eye on in case he tried to make as swim for it!!) and later that evening he started stuffing his face - a remarkable talent that he kept up for the duration of our voyage.

Our near air/sea rescue situation made me realize how in the middle of nowhere we were and how difficult it would be to be rescued if and when required. Helicopters can only travel a maximum of about 700 miles (round trip) and, bearing in mind we were, at one point, around 1,500 miles from land, I'm not sure what would have happened, had we had an emergency. A boat would easily have taken a few days to reach us too - doesn't bear thinking about really.

1x vast ocean; 1x 40.7 foot yacht; 8x crew; 3,000x miles; 20x days

This 3,000 mile voyage was a real test of inner strength and character and I found it mentally and emotionally incredibly tough. It really was a social experiment - akin to Big Brother except harder - they have a dairy room, they can escape to another room and they can evict people off. We had a 40.7 foot boat with no nooks and crannies and nowhere to go to get any peace and quiet. In hindsight, the ability to evict could have been a godsend!! Added to all of this, whereas people normally put on airs and graces in social situations, here your true colours shine through and there's no escape. It was a journey of extreme highs and lows, goods and bads, laughs and tears, fun and frustration. At the same time as this being the toughest thing I've ever done, I am so glad I've done it, I did enjoy it overall and it was also a great achievement and I feel very proud of myself - not many people can say that they have sailed across (and survived!) the Atlantic! It's hard to convey what it was really like out there (and that's the positives and the negatives) and I think only those who have done it can truly know what we've been through. But, see what you think. Here is some of the good, the bad and the ugly, in no particular order……

-The night sky - I have seen some stars in my time, especially in South America but I can't even begin to describe to you how amazing this was. Millions of stars and planets that you felt you could almost reach out and touch. Anyone who can look at that sky and still maintain there is no life anywhere else in the universe has got to be off their rocker. We had the full moon guiding us out at the start of the race, a little orange smile halfway through (that looked like the Cheshire Cat!) and the new moon guiding us in at the end. The shooting stars were the most magnificent I've ever seen - thousands of them, small and huge and a lot of them had massive trails following them - fabulous!

-Bioluminescence - I had seen this a few times while night diving - fluorescent plankton that looks like fireflies when disturbed and amazing to see. To see it in big clumps in the sea, obviously where creatures were moving around, was simply beautiful. The most impressive sight was when we were joined by dolphins leaping through the bioluminescence and creating a stunning firework show.

-Dolphins - although we weren't as lucky as a lot of other boats to see whales, we did see dolphins almost every day leaping around our boat. A wonderful sight was one day when the mothers were obviously teaching the babies to jump. Tiny dolphins would suddenly be propelled vertically out of the water, they'd wiggle and then belly flop back into the water. So cute!

-Flying fish - these are amazing to watch as they fly in shoals across the waves and look beautiful. Not so beautiful was their attraction to Jacko - whenever he was on watch they decided to fly on deck and almost without fail, they would aim directly at him and successfully wallop him, sometimes missing the rest of us by centimeters but always hitting him. It was obviously karma in return for something he'd done in a previous life! Of course, we all took great delight in this although they did stink!

-Sunrises and sunsets - often made the nightshifts worthwhile - fabulous colours rising or fading over the waves and nothing to interrupt the sight

-Fishing - we put the line out for the 1st week or so but every day it was bare until one day when we caught 2 dorados in the space of about 3 hours. We wanted tuna but no such luck. Dorado is not a tasty fish but I think we were all so excited that we pretended it was good! We did have sushi from one of them though which was fab. The fish themselves were beautiful - blue and yellow. The boys poured gin into their gills to kill them quickly but I still couldn't watch the whole gutting process!

-Night sailing - very eerie, especially when the moon disappeared a few days out to sea. We could hardly see eachother or the mast in front of us. Helming was nerve-wracking and tiring as you had to concentrate so hard on the compass (or the stars) to follow the course.

-Fellow boats - we saw very few other boats - occasionally a sail during the day or a light at night on the horizon and the odd fishing boat or cruising vessel. There was one day when we saw 4 boats at the same time - weird when you think how vast the ocean is and the different courses everyone is following yet we were all within a few miles of eachother.

-Life jacket thief - I won't mention any names (but Lia and Rob, you know who you are - ha ha) but this became a nightmare. What started out as Debs' safety harness being mysteriously removed from her life jacket, ended up with my life jacket being stolen each night shift and me not being able to find an alternative. Now bearing in mind that these compulsory during the night and are individually fitted and you are responsible for your own jacket and where it is in case of emergency, it's a pretty serious matter. We tried various methods to ensure my jacket was identifiable as mine - reconfirming where we all kept our jackets (didn't work), a sticky label with my name on it (didn't work), a green decorative knot, kindly made by Prue (didn't work). Finally, we regressed to being nursery school children and Jack and Mick made hooks with all our names on (I tried for animal pictures too in case the culprit couldn't actually read!). Success - you'd think right? Well, no. Someone else hung their jacket on someone else's hook and then took mine when they needed a jacket. What is wrong with these people?!!! How difficult can this possibly be? So, a severe lecture from Mick ensued and we had no more trouble.

-Chocolate thief - we had a box of goodies (chocs, Haribo, sweeties etc) which seemed to be diminishing at an incredible rate, despite the fact that we had been told our daily ration at the start. My watch shift was accused of munching through the night which was bulls*** as we hardly had anything but we started a spying mission. Unfortunately I didn't get any photographic evidence but lots of wrappers were spotted oozing out of a certain person's shorts on numerous occasions…..

-Jacko is a horror film character - he sleeps with his eyes open and it's one of the scariest things I've ever seen, especially when you try to wake him up and he appears to look at you but he's still asleep!!

-Orange tea - one night while Debs was making tea in the dark, she used a bottle of orange squash instead of water - the result was not appreciated by the other shift and Mick grumpily cleaned out the kettle in true Victor Meldrew style!

-There were times when we didn't seem to be going anywhere at all; indeed sometimes I was convinced we were going backwards due to no wind and to look up and see the speedo showing 0.00 was so demotivating and frustrating. In the first 10-14 days the mileage didn't seem to move at all. In the final week it was a relief to see the progress we were making as we finally hit the tradewinds and we could quickly count down the miles every day.

-The quickly spreading epidemic on our yacht of Tourette Syndrome, especially Mick (who also caused us great amusement by his constant pottering, OCD and routine before coming on shift - put eyes in, go to loo, have a cuppa tea, have a fag, potter around, swear a bit, finally get on helm

-Only being able to shower in salt water - although refreshing it doesn't really get you clean and you end up just smearing the suncream around and then caking yourself in a layer of white crust. I had 1 fresh water shower every week and then one on our final day!

-Sailing upwind - this was horrendous and I think was when I really hit my low point and seriously wanted to get off (impossible of course) - horrid weather and 18 feet swells coupled with the boat at a 45 degree angle and waves crashing overboard all the time - helming was hard and we broached on several occasions.

-Bum rot (aka bot rot or nappy rash). I now know how babies feel in their damp nappies and why they cry so much. I had big sore boils on my bum and thighs, basically caused by constantly wearing damp clothes and sitting in salt water the whole time - it was very sore and very uncomfortable, not to mention ugly - good thing I wasn't trying to pull!! We all ended up sailing in our underwear for 2 days as nothing else was dry or could get dry!

-Falling over - I lost my footing in the saloon and slid the width of the boat, crashing into the cooker with a bang and promptly burst into tears (this was the start of a really low day for me and I just wanted to get off - I'd had way more than enough). I ended up with a huge bruise across my hip which is just the place you need to rely on to lean on things to move around the boat. A few days later I did something to my shoulder which meant I couldn't helm and made getting round the boat even more difficult as I couldn't use that arm to hold onto handles etc.

-Shift patterns - these were horrid. We typically did 3 hours overnight and 4 hours during the day in a routine something like this: 9-1 (on), 1-5 (off), 5-9 (on), 9-12 (off), 12-3 (on), 3-6 (off), 6-9 (on) - we got very little sleep and it was hard to stay awake on deck. Even when you were off shift, by the time you'd been rolled around the berth and struggled to drop off, you might be lucky to get 2 hours of very interrupted sleep.

-We had several broaches (this is where the wind catches the sails and the boat tips so far over that the boom and mainsail are in the water - dangerous and scary. I slept through the first two incidences (yes, I am the incredible sleeping woman!) but the 3rd one I lived through! A 40 mph gust of wind caught hold while Debs was at the helm - she lost control and was screaming 'Help me, help me!' like Penelope Pitstop. Luckily Jacko was sitting next to her and kept shouting 'My wheel!' as he desperately tried to wrench the helm out of Debs' vicelike grip! She was panicking so much that she couldn't hear him, as he got more and more assertive and finally managed to get us back under control - phew! While this was happening I was clinging on for dear life and sitting in the sea up to my waist while Jacko had water up to his neck! It was very funny afterwards but really terrifying at the time.

So, in a nutshell, that was about it. We made it over the finishing line at 09.08:49 on Saturday 11 December ranking us first in our class (yippee!) and 2nd in the racing division (we lost first place by 1 hour and 3 minutes - booo!). Not all boats have made it in yet so we do not yet know where we rank in the overall fleet of 250 but we are hoping to be up there with the biggest and best. Bearing in mind all of the cruisers and some of the racing yachts used their engines, we have a good chance of ranking fairly high on adjusted times.

Would I do it again? I would certainly do it in a luxury boat with my own cabin and a shower every day! But sail it again? Unlikely - but ask me again in 6 months' time!

I've also included the boat logs from Lancelot in a subsequent blog - mainly for my own record but also in case you didn't get to read them as we were enroute. We each took turns to write on behalf of the crew and our aim was to 'slip in' the name of a Queen song somewhere in the entry!

Anyhooo, ciao for now - more news to follow soon….

Linda xxx