Friday, 11 August 2006
Friday afternoon report from Puma
Passing Skellig Rock on the south west tip of Ireland you have to admire the way a handful of monks preserved the traditions of Christianity cut off from the Holy Roman Empire for nigh on 300 years.
No more than a dozen monks lived on the rock in beehive dwellings atop a winding stone staircase they built by hand. The sight of visiting ships must have stirred feelings of hope and anxiety – hope of some trade with the East and fear of the Vikings from the north.
Today it is a forbidding obstacle for the 27 competing yachts in the Round Britain and Ireland Race that started on Monday. A few of us among the crew of Puma Logic can identify with those monks even to the point of envy.
I would happily swap my berth with the drafty, dark but level space of those beehive huts. Each monk had his own space for prayer and contemplation. There was peace and quiet. Here, as I write, there is a body on the stairs, two by the cooker and the sink, two donning foul weather gear, two up top driving and skipper Philippe Falle in the heads taking advantage of the starboard tack. In 10 minutes we tack to port where, because of the positioning of the waste outlet, the pump doesn’t work. You have to think about these things.
But in the haste to pack we didn’t think about the 36 toilet rolls abandoned in the store room. So we are rationed to one sheet a day, supplemented by baby wipes and kitchen roll. If only all our problems were so minor – like the bucket lost overboard on the way to the start line. Even the loss of a winch handle shortly after the start was something we could live with, but we can’t afford to lose another.
Far more demoralising was losing our first mate, Sara Stanton, to sickness. Sara had been struck down by food poisoning on the day of the race. After taking medical advice, in the hope it was no more than a 24-hour bug, the skipper decided to include her.
Instead her condition deteriorated leaving no choice but to head for Penzance Bay where Sara was transferred to the Penlee lifeboat. ‘I think I made the right decision to take her. She had worked so hard for this race. I also think it was the right decision to have her taken off. It was heartbreaking to see her go. She’s the best first mate I’ve ever sailed with and it’s a big loss to the crew,’ said Philippe.
We hear a day later that Sara’s condition has stabilised in hospital. In terms of the race, the detour cost Puma Logic three hours when the team had been gaining on class leader, Magnum.
More time was lost crossing the Irish Sea when the steering cable snapped in heavy seas, forcing us to deploy the emergency tiller while the cable was repaired. The lead slipped further away from us when Magnum managed to squeeze past Skellig Rock without a tack allowing her to race away when we had clawed back some miles.
There is still plenty of time and as the wind has settled to a steady15 knots we continue to edge north up the west coast. Conditions on board are just about tolerable but half the crew has suffered from seasickness.
The worst part is the sheer discomfort of living on a racing yacht, shifting between bunks within the stripped down interior. Making meals and keeping the interior clean is literally an uphill task on a 30 degree incline bouncing on every wave. Someone – no names - thought it would be a good idea to replace our bog standard mugs with those lidded insulated beakers you can buy at service stations. This was a bad idea. A high centre of gravity means they fall over constantly and the lids are a waste of time. They might work in people carriers for a day at the races, but not out here.
Then there’s the muck and water everywhere. It’s no joke when you wake up to find your sleeping bag has drifted into the bilges or when a wave hits you on the high side just as you are about to bite into your Marmite sandwich. I have sailed in a BT Challenge yacht in the southern ocean and that was comfort personified compared to this machine.
Relatively small irritations are magnified when there is little respite from the weather – and this isn’t the usual kind of August. No balmy days here but a steady 15 knots of wind. The upside to this is fewer sail changes that would have accompanied more variable weather. Another benefit is that we seem to be on a steady beat with the promise of a fast downwind section to come after turning the corner in the Shetlands.
For light relief and a sense of perspective I have brought with me a copy of Apsley Cherry-Garrard’s The Worst Journey In The World. There’s not much time for reading, but if the baby wipes run out it’s a handy 600 pages long.
Richard Donkin, Puma Logic, Friday
No more than a dozen monks lived on the rock in beehive dwellings atop a winding stone staircase they built by hand. The sight of visiting ships must have stirred feelings of hope and anxiety – hope of some trade with the East and fear of the Vikings from the north.
Today it is a forbidding obstacle for the 27 competing yachts in the Round Britain and Ireland Race that started on Monday. A few of us among the crew of Puma Logic can identify with those monks even to the point of envy.
I would happily swap my berth with the drafty, dark but level space of those beehive huts. Each monk had his own space for prayer and contemplation. There was peace and quiet. Here, as I write, there is a body on the stairs, two by the cooker and the sink, two donning foul weather gear, two up top driving and skipper Philippe Falle in the heads taking advantage of the starboard tack. In 10 minutes we tack to port where, because of the positioning of the waste outlet, the pump doesn’t work. You have to think about these things.
But in the haste to pack we didn’t think about the 36 toilet rolls abandoned in the store room. So we are rationed to one sheet a day, supplemented by baby wipes and kitchen roll. If only all our problems were so minor – like the bucket lost overboard on the way to the start line. Even the loss of a winch handle shortly after the start was something we could live with, but we can’t afford to lose another.
Far more demoralising was losing our first mate, Sara Stanton, to sickness. Sara had been struck down by food poisoning on the day of the race. After taking medical advice, in the hope it was no more than a 24-hour bug, the skipper decided to include her.
Instead her condition deteriorated leaving no choice but to head for Penzance Bay where Sara was transferred to the Penlee lifeboat. ‘I think I made the right decision to take her. She had worked so hard for this race. I also think it was the right decision to have her taken off. It was heartbreaking to see her go. She’s the best first mate I’ve ever sailed with and it’s a big loss to the crew,’ said Philippe.
We hear a day later that Sara’s condition has stabilised in hospital. In terms of the race, the detour cost Puma Logic three hours when the team had been gaining on class leader, Magnum.
More time was lost crossing the Irish Sea when the steering cable snapped in heavy seas, forcing us to deploy the emergency tiller while the cable was repaired. The lead slipped further away from us when Magnum managed to squeeze past Skellig Rock without a tack allowing her to race away when we had clawed back some miles.
There is still plenty of time and as the wind has settled to a steady15 knots we continue to edge north up the west coast. Conditions on board are just about tolerable but half the crew has suffered from seasickness.
The worst part is the sheer discomfort of living on a racing yacht, shifting between bunks within the stripped down interior. Making meals and keeping the interior clean is literally an uphill task on a 30 degree incline bouncing on every wave. Someone – no names - thought it would be a good idea to replace our bog standard mugs with those lidded insulated beakers you can buy at service stations. This was a bad idea. A high centre of gravity means they fall over constantly and the lids are a waste of time. They might work in people carriers for a day at the races, but not out here.
Then there’s the muck and water everywhere. It’s no joke when you wake up to find your sleeping bag has drifted into the bilges or when a wave hits you on the high side just as you are about to bite into your Marmite sandwich. I have sailed in a BT Challenge yacht in the southern ocean and that was comfort personified compared to this machine.
Relatively small irritations are magnified when there is little respite from the weather – and this isn’t the usual kind of August. No balmy days here but a steady 15 knots of wind. The upside to this is fewer sail changes that would have accompanied more variable weather. Another benefit is that we seem to be on a steady beat with the promise of a fast downwind section to come after turning the corner in the Shetlands.
For light relief and a sense of perspective I have brought with me a copy of Apsley Cherry-Garrard’s The Worst Journey In The World. There’s not much time for reading, but if the baby wipes run out it’s a handy 600 pages long.
Richard Donkin, Puma Logic, Friday
posted by Sailing Logic at 5:26 PM
