A Right Hull-a-b-lew
Saturday, September 5, 2009 at 12:29PM 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
