I’ve had the call

stripped in a phone box

and now I’m ready to rock and roll.

Shelterbox needs a hand and I have two, which means I’m fully qualified to head out to Sumatra on Saturday and do some good.  (Actually, it’s not quite as easy as that. I did have to pass a 9-day ‘ard as nails’ training course)

But by the end of October I’ll be able to pitch a tent, in the dark, with my hands tied behind my back, coated from top to toe in anti-mozzy cream. If it goes really well I’ll have taught about a hundred people to do it too.

You see SRT’s have a really important job to do, because if we don’t do it the chaps who sponsor the money to pay for the equipment that goes in the box, the hard working bods who pack the boxes ready to stack and the super organised team who get them delivered to where they need to go, will have wasted valuable time and money.

For Shelterbox to be successful they’ve got to make sense of a huge logistical nightmare! Imagine what would happen if all the boxes just turned up at the site of an earthquake, unannounced? Most of the local people will have lost family, friends, and probably their home. They ‘d have difficulty knowing how to set up the wood-burning stove; they’d also be pretty stuck translating the English instructions for the 10-man tents. But that’s where we step in…. the Shelterbox Response Team (SRT)

Simply put, this is what we do:

We get the boxes out of Customs.

We talk to local Rotary representatives to find out the lay of the land and who has been affected.

We reccie potential sites, so we can set up tent villages for those most in need.

We teach local people to pitch the tents and use the equipment

We tell Shelterbox HQ if more boxes are needed

And finally…

We get home safe and sound because job’s a goodun’.

Smoke me a kipper I’ll be back for breakfast!

And that’s it in a nutshell. On Saturday I’m off to do this incredible job, and no doubt I’ll be a very different person when I get back. I won’t lie to you; I am feeling more than just a little bit nervous right now.  It’s a huge responsibility and a great privilege; I just hope I don’t let my team down. And anyway I need to get home in one piece or my Mother will kill me!

So until I see you on the other side…

Sal x

Support Shelterbox, please go to www.shelterbox.org 

Shelterbox & Rotary

It's been a week that many will never forget ...

An earthquake in Sumatra, a tsunami in Somoa 

 

I support a humanitarian charity called ShelterBox and this is what General Manager Lasse Petersen said:

'In all our history, we've never known a string of disasters hit so thick and so fast. Our thoughts are with everyone who has been affected by these disasters and we're doing everything within our power to ensure aid reaches the people who need it.

'This is a huge challenge for us but one we're well equipped to deal with and one we're meeting head on. We always need help at times like this, be it a donation of time to come and help us pack boxes or a monetary donation to help us replenish our stocks. We're incredibly grateful for all the support we receive, no matter how big or how small.'

I spoke for the charity at a conference for Rotary District 1070 and this is the fabulous feedback I received from Kibworth & Fleckney Rotary Club:

“We had a great conference thanks and the speakers were inspirational especially Sally Kettle. You will be pleased to learn that following her enthusiastic and modest presentation we have agreed at our Club tonight to use up some of our hard earned cash and donate two Shelterboxes. One of them (before it gets sent off) will be used to raise awareness in local schools about the work of Rotary and the Shelterbox scheme.”

The club will be receiving a demonstration box so that both their Shelterboxes can go out to where they are needed.

If you would like more information or would like to donate please visit the Shelterbox website.

Thank you,

Sally

Flat Calm

It's all diet and daytime TV now I'm back on land! Perhaps a metaphorical flat calm in comparision to what the last few weeks have been.

But, I'm not sitting on my laurels for fear of getting a fat arse! I'm off running tomorrow evening, the first trot for quite a while. The lyrca will be coming out of the drawers and the flouro jacket will no doubt make an appearance (the nights are creeping in again aren't they). 

Next week I'm mooching off to Portugal for a day ... it's a bit hush hush, but I'm sure you can keep a secret ... something to do with the Portugal Round the World Race, solo sailing and a press launch. Would love to tell you more, but that would be giving it away! Don't worry I'm taking the wellies, just so they know what a prepared sailor I really am!

Off to enjoy the gentle swell for a while,

'Safe on Land' Sal

A Right Hull-a-b-lew

Never in my life have I been so keen to arrive in Grimsby! 

Grimsby lock, although it didn't look like that when we arrived.

It can hardly be reassuring when the Race Director tells you that the last couple of days will prove to be ideal experience for what will be faced in the Southern Ocean, and we were only off the coast of bloody Norfolk! I'm just glad the wind was with us, all 50kts of it. Remember the image from 'The Perfect Storm'? It looked like that!

Yep, yacht delivery from Gosport to Grimsby was an interesting one. With a gale force 10 predicted Skipper Jim went for a storm jib set up with a 3 reef mainsail (check me out with my nautical lingo!) i.e. a tiny sail at the front and the mainsail tied down to it's smallest triangle. All seemed alarmingly calm, a bit of chop, some rain, nothing too untoward....

Reaching Lowestoft by nightfall and we felt like a mouse tip-toeing amongst sleeping giants. A fleet of anchored tankers waiting patiently for fuel or cargo. A skippers' nightmare, especially when latecomers begin drifting through the overwhelming array of deck and nav lights. Cautious sailing ensued.

Out the other side and we're off again up the coast past my favourite seaside town of Great Yarmouth. The sky darkens all the more; the barometer needle continues to drop, as does the temperature inside my wellington boots. My feet were blocks of ice attached to the bottom of my slowly freezing legs. And then it came, the monster storm.

I'd love to say we saw lightening, heard the crack of distant thunder but no, the North Sea gives you no such spectacular light show. Instead we had grey, wet, freezing and miserable. The sea spray, an instant sandblast. The puddles, an excellent and effective method of numbing your bum cheeks and drenching you right through to your knickers. Huddled in the cockpit I don't think there were many of the crew that didn't feel nauseous, and any excuse to disappear below, even if it's to feel sick in the galley rather than sick on deck. It became a welcome opportunity to get out of the cold. I think I lost half a stone through shivering alone.

By the time we reached the Humber estuary we'd blown the reefing line, lashed and stitched the mainsail to the boom and tended to a crewmate who'd fallen down the companionway and hurt her back. Welcome to the North!

It's so wet crewmate Jen inflates prematurely!

We eventually arrived in Grimsby in time to get through the lock, moor up and hit the Cruising Association clubhouse for pie and peas. And like I said before I have never been so pleased to get there!

Crew quote for the week....

"We came, we saw, we delivered!"

Now it's party weekend before the start of the race next week. Repairs to be done, stocks to be replenished, clubhouse to be drunk dry. Shame I won't be here to enjoy it, or the race start. They'll be tears tomorrow as I say good bye to the crews, many of whom I probably won't see again.

It's been a life-changing summer. For many it will be life-changing 10 months. I'm starting to wish I was going now....

Singapore Sal x

Up & Humber

I'm feeling the hot flush of the tired. I'm experiencing waves of nausea and a general disquiet that can only be associated with our arrival in Dover.... not because of Dover, by the way, more because our delivery has been knackering already and we've only been away from Gosport for a day and 'arf! It's been tough though, I'm not complaining but I'm convinced our watch draw the short straw having to wake at 2am for a four hour stint till dawn.

Also, it may seem a little wet but the fleet has collectively descided to pitch up into harbour because gale force winds are forecast on our route up north. Gale force winds I hear you cry! I know! I think some members of the crew will be facing more than a little strong winds and rough seas out in Southern Ocean and I suspect they'd enjoy a bit of practice. Us Atlantic lot aren't expecting to face seven weeks of flat calms either! But no the draw of Dover was too strong and as I sit in the saloon, the majority of my crew mates reacquaiting themselves with their bunk for a few more hours, I can hear the final throws of Tropical Storm Daniel whipping its way round the halyards of our neighbouring boats.

Now I'm hardcore but today I'm glad I'm not close-hauled off the coast of Norfolk and anyway we've been given strict instructions not to arrive in Grimsby before Thursday evening. If we were attempting a speed record then perhaps today would be the day, but no, we would like to arrive with sails, crew and steering column intact (unlike Quingdao whose steering wheel conveniently fell off near the seaside party town of Brighton). And anyway, I'm sure Clipper wouldn't want that sort of publicity.

"Clipper crew on upturned hull off Yarmouth"

Or

"Clipper crew on upturned hull off the Antartic Circle. Penguins come to the rescue!"

Follow our progress on www.clipperroundtheworld.com

Hanging with the Big Guns

I've never been one for autograph albums but I'm slightly disappointed that I've not invested in one. Not only did I accost/meet Sir Robin Knox Johnson, with whom I shared a tale or two about sore bottoms, but Crew Singapore bumped into Hilary Lister a quadraplegic sailor who has literally just arrived in Dover after her circumnavigation of Britain. With camera in hand I accosted/met her too! It does look as if I'm pulling her hair out, but it was necessary to hold her head. Her condition leaves her unable to move from the neck down. It just goes to show there are far more challenging things in life than an early morning watch.

Check out this incredible woman: www.hilarylister.com