She stood in the storm, and when the wind did not blow her way she adjusted her sails. – Unknown
Wednesday, May 31st, 2017
What a day.
I had started two posts on this day, one on the tablet and one on the iPhone. Each had to be abandoned so I have the disturbance of hindsight in retelling what can only be described as relentless and confidence building. I never fail to appreciate when my good old friend Darwin comes along and the survival instincts become the tool and tactic of play. I always feel slightly taller, stronger and more knowledgeable with each of those experiences. Its probably why I am drawn to experiences which push to expose this in me.
Word association.
When asked what words you associate with wind, what comes to mind? Strong, fierce, air, element? I like turbulent. Strong is first, followed by turbulent. May 31st was definitely turbulent.
I awoke at 5am grumpy and deflated with mood. It was raining and overcast. I had hoped for a sunny day in which to dry my bedding. Bedding that being in the bow had simply become so damp due to lack of ventilation and a small leak, that the nights had become spent shivering under a cloak of forever damp and cold. It had got to me so badly that i had moved to the saloon the day before concerned with the impact it would have for the next 6 days on a deprived body. So needless to say i was not overly motivated to get up.
The previous day we were forced to detour from our current waypoint due to prediction of an easterly headwind. This drew us in a southerly direction (away from our destination) and would add about 30NM onto that leg of the journey. The wind had died also and we were no longer making 6.5-7 knot averages. Heading back to the 4-5knot mark. So when you go ahead and add 5-6 hours onto anything, it only adds insult onto what is already painful. You should head to the video page to really catch the emotion as I speak about that moment.
So todays duty to mile chase was back on. During the night I had noticed the bilge light come on. Before we had left Bermuda I had encouraged the need to check the bilges regularly at sea. I feel this is common practise amongst all sea farers on long passsages, or maybe I have recently been over exposed to everything that “can go wrong” in the courses and readings leading up to this. Jacques was quick to move onto checking this out on the shift change. Although he did not show it at the time, I have later discovered that this has been a worrying factor for him during the remainder of this leg.
So yes, we were leaking. Leaking fresh water. So with that we isolated each area that uses water, in attempt to eliminate, and ultimately find the source of the leak. This meant we were now manually pouring water into the toilet to flush (a challenge in swell) and rarely using the fresh water pump, except when necessary. You combine this with zero sleep, no reprieve from feeling damp or sitting in the rain and going slow on a detour you will begin to start to form the headspace I was in.
Jacques came to deck around 10am with a weather report that was meant to be promising. Two days of good wind followed by an easterly headwind. The reasoning for heading so far south the previous day was to hopefully completely avoid this unwanted breeze. The wind prediction indicated we would make at least 6 knots for the next 24hrs. It made sitting in the rain less unpleasant.
At the end of the conversation the topic of heading straight to Portugal should the headwind arrive and over the days eliminate the Azores from being landed arose. My soul was almost ripped out and out sitting in my mouth at this point and I politely indicated that I would be upset if we missed the Azores and would prefer to stay on our current route. It was clear Jacques also did not want to miss the Azores and I feel he needed some moral backing.
In hindsight, he had asked earlier that morning if I was optimistic. I was unsure where he headed with the question and returned with my general view on life. He repeated the question. He meant about the voyage. Maybe he could sense my mood was absent and low. I continued confused. I repeated back, are you askimg if I am worried we will not make it? He said yes. My mood immediately flipped and I smiled and said, of course not. We are okay, we are fine, this is sailing. I am simply sick of being wet, sleep deprived and unable to cook. He was worried that the boat was sinking. I smiled again and said, every yacht leaks, it is to be expected. It is not getting worse so to answer your question, I am extremely optimistic we will make it. Even if I am having a bad day.
The breeze picked up and we were back heading towards 6 knots, in the wrong direction. Shortly aftet. A much needed reprieve. The shift change occurred and I went
The ocean story 