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

Aft From My Elbow

As if by magic, the lunar eclipse observed in China neatly paved the way for my own ‘planetary’ alignment – right people, right time, right place – only for me that was Gosport as the start line and Dartmouth as a place to appraise my seasick remedy supplies before a return to shore: neck patch – check, tablets – check, inedible ginger – check, completely useless wristbands – oops where did they go? Yes I have just completed a week’s intensive training at sea as part of my preparation for taking part in the round the world Clipper yacht race. It starts in September but I join for the ‘glamour’ run from Jamaica to New York then across the pond to Ireland to eventually finish in the Humber. No offence to the residents on the banks of the Humber but the glamour may have run out by then.

My crewmates for the training week have been the most amazing bunch of people. Not only did they not shame me on their knowledge of halyards, sheets and ground tackle but we all got on right away - I call it ‘bonding in adversity but essentially we all made the very best of the experience and information on offer –the most information I have tried to pack in my head since cramming for A levels. Experience came in the form of skipper Pete and first mate, minor deity, Oli who probably could have sailed our 60’ pleasure boat single-handed while each of us trainees, on the god scale, needed at least the arms of Shiva if not Ganesh’s trunk thrown in for good measure.

The Ah's, The Er's, Skipp-Er, and er... Oli 

So what did I learn? I learnt that the stripy black and white rope is the yankee halyard. I learnt that a sheet is a rope and a sail is not a sheet, and that the sheet on my bunk needs changing more regularly than once a week. I learnt that three hours sleep in three days is fine for Glastonbury festivallers but not for those of us back on planet earth. I was also intoxicated by the deep blue – of the first mate’s eyes – but not to the detriment of my winching and sweating at the mast – the main mast that is. Oh and by the way I’ve measured by biceps and I’ve grown, yes grown by one whole centimetre. At this rate if I’m at sea for 6 weeks I will have biceps the size of a modest melon and an appetite for spinach that only the most productive of organic farms will be able to satiate.

And now as I look back on this incredible experience I still can’t believe I’ve actually learnt to sail a racing yacht in one week … yes one week! Don’t get me wrong I can’t actually get it in or out of the harbour unless the boat’s covered entirely in bubble-wrap but still, out there in the middle of the English Channel the merits of the parallel park are somewhat lost, as they will be in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and essentially that’s what the First Mate and Skippers are for. The rest of us will be doing the grunt work while they just want waking when we get close to land!

Although with that in mind as I launch into my final two weeks training I begun to appreciate the monumental patience of the skippers that will be taking their now competent crew out on the ‘actual’ 68ft racing yachts. It will also be my first introduction to ‘Uniquely Singapore’ my home for the journey back across to Blighty. If she has a memory I do hope she forgives me for all my ungainly clambering across her decks as I attempt to find out what makes her tick (and more importantly what makes her fast).

 

Up Mast

But after all this there is a drawback. And yes there is always a drawback. There is an old wife in my family and she has a tale (not a tail you understand). Her tale is women of a sailing persuasion often come with a moustache to go. I believe this to be the old wives’ tale that it is but rest assured I will be packing the Remington 2000 just in case.

Off to ease the mainsail halyard,

Seasick Sally

www.clipperroundtheworld.com