Well, of all the ways I ways expecting today to turn out it wasn’t quite like
this!

As we rose to the deck for our afternoon watch the race had hotted up a little further with Garmin pushing and pushing from behind.  Knowing that we were soon to be tackling the Bass straight I asked if we should prepare the smaller yankee, particularly as our watch is lacking muscle.  It was seen as an overly conservative suggestion given we had been praying for wind all morning.  Fair enough.  We’re racing after all.  It was in fact champagne sailing conditions and for the first time my pastey white legs were out on show as were my new found biceps.

Then, almost out of nowhere with less that 40 miles to the scoring gate the wind came out to play. From nothing we then had 25 knots.  Then 35 knots…The yankee change then became a whole lot more critical and, of course, tougher.  The other watch were called for help.

Gav and I wrestled along with the rest of the bow team to tame the yankee 1. It took everything we had.  Gav was exceptionally cold because he too was ill dressed.  The sail was appropriately dealt with leaving way for the yankee 3. If we thought dropping the sail was a Herculean effort then we were about to be put in our place.

I don’t think I have ever been on the bow when it has been so wet.  One of
those situations when you can only laugh.  That’s exactly what we did.  Each hank yielded a cheer.  Each life jacket being inflated got a louder cheer. Each bruise (every wave) got a bigger still cheer.

The exciting thing, Rich has it all on camera.

Gav and I huddled and cuddled in the saloon under a spare sleeping bag wearing kind donations of dry clothing and eating our weight in sweets. I’m on stand-by for tonight’s watch and have the responsibility of fresh hourly coffee.

Best dash, kettle boiling and the crew have just finished an evolution.

Back to thinking Sydney on 12th.  That’s TOMORROW!!!! xxxx