(or boat in the ocean) and could take one thing what would it be?

No better way to count the days. Isn’t that right mum?

thought so

I know it’s almost time to get back on the boat because my boots are nearly dry.

I have soaked up rest, pampering (thanks Karen) and the local sights over the past few days. Albany is a cute little place but I’m not sure I’d travel hundreds of miles from the nearest international airport to visit. That said, it has spectacular coastline, the best museum I’ve been to (the Anzac museum), some impressive modern architecture and the friendliest and most generous people I’ve met in a long time.

Sadly for the entire time I’ve been off the boat I’ve had laryngitis. Clipper have taken far more interest than I would have liked and sent me to the hospital for an assessment. Oh jeez. They were trying to ascertain how contagious I might be or whether I might need antibiotics mid-ocean. I am now armed with all I need and  have the green light (phew). Just as well as it all kicks off again tomorrow. The only rule is not to shout. Like I would do that!

Weve been briefed and briefed some more. We know from Cape Town the weather will be nothing like forecasts suggest. Hopefully this time we’ll actually have weather and routing capabilities on board. The southern ocean is a tough enough place with them. Nobel-Greg should get some respite. In other repair news we should also have the invaluable Yankee 2 back tomorrow morning after the damage sustained in THAT storm off the coast of South Africa.

In other news i have a new watch leader, Mike Moore. An incredibly knowledgable individual with huge respect from all those whose have sailed with him. I’m looking forward to it. Port watch has Mike plus 8 (sally [returning from fractured shoulder], Inna, Janice, Me, Vin!!, Mary, Nicholas and Tim). You’ll note a few things, firstly the watch is smaller, secondly it’s mostly female and thirdly I have a new bunk buddy, Richard. As much as I’d love to be considered strong it is fair to say that we’re missing muscle (and experience). This leg is going to be TOUGH. Thankfully it should only take 12-15 days. I’m really hoping its 12 because I’m looking forward to my time in Sydney a lot.

 

The other big news is that I am confirmed as ‘bow 1’. I’m running the pointy end of the boat. I’m panicking but shall endeavour to give an air of calmness. A bit like the desk job! There’s a big difference between sitting in the passenger seat and driving solo. I’m trying to run through all the evolutions and associated roles in my head so that I’m ready, my team know expectations and everyone is clear on roles. All of this is good for the, errr, CV? Spare a thought for the fact that I can’t speak/shout!!

I’m excited. Excited that we may get weather, excited that we’re going back into the Southern Ocean, excited to have the opportunity to run the bow and learn loads but most of all I’m excited at the opportunity to sail into the most beautiful harbour in the world and catching up with good friends. That said, I’m also scared.

Think of us tomorrow. 12:21 we slip out lines. 13:00-14:00 we have our parade of sail and eyes to the sky as dad displays and 15:00 we get going. Light easterly winds and high pressure are expected for the first 24 hours and then we have a storm. Brilliant (?). Hoping the bow team will be oiled by then.

Time to go. I have caramel koalas to eat with a stugeron chaser.

night. Xx

 

 

 

 

 

The great southern ocean. The scene of many films and it turns on there’s a good reason for that.

I went into this leg with huge emotion. This was the reason I’d signed up to Clipper. I wanted tough racing. I left my mum and brother in Cape Town with tears streaming down my cheeks and my bottom lip going. Sunglasses were the accessory of choice on what I remember being a fairly overcast morning. My brother gave me a hug I will treasure forever and told me that no matter what happened there would come a point when I may have to step back from the crew and look after number one. Little did I or anyone else (including the skipper) know that would be on the first night.

We left the shores in first place, the second time that has happened in the two races I’ve been in (coincidental). Hope was riding high. I was the off watch on race start so tried to bunker down and refamiliarise myself with the motion of the ocean. It wasn’t long before the queasiness arrived as we were beating into wind.

As we came on deck at 4 am and left cape Agulhas lighthouse and the land behind us the journey became very real. I helmed under the watchful eye of James as grey clouds built on the horizon. Seemingly out of nowhere the sh*t hit the fan. Spectacularly. It wasn’t just the wind (up to 75kts) but the sea state as two oceans meet over the relatively shallow Agulhas bank. Mistakes in that storm were to cost us a podium, of that I’m sure. The silver lining? Focusing on survival seemed to be a great cure for sea sickness.

The weather was uncharacteristicly fickle for the Southern Ocean with just two days of rolling waves and high steady winds. Storms, wind holes, hail storms, you name it we had it. We also had the drama of injury; Gary and his broken/dislocated finger on night one and Kyro a couple of weeks in. My personal injury was my hair!

We’re not allowed to brush our hair down below and the windy deck doesn’t really lend itself to such things so as the days passed the hair increasingly suffered. By day 10 I was resigned to the fact it was all going to go and I booked a hair appointment through my step mum to do just that. I had a further 16 days to mourn (I had no idea I was that vein) and by our arrival I was ready for the chop. As many will know I’m pretty determined so just as I was about to put my head on my first pillow in a month I picked up a comb. Mistake. For several hours I sacrificed sleep for my hair and I won. Well, if you consider losing just three handfuls of hair victory.

The washing machine is now on (we’re having to be resourceful with hanging space) and I have another date with my bed shortly. Sadly but perhaps not surprisingly my glands are up and I have no voice care of laryngitis. In fact I’ve been in bed much of the afternoon missing boat prep. I appreciate a few crew feathers will understandably be ruffled but with just 3 days until race start I’m focused on getting myself better. The next leg will be gruelling as we’re light handed and we all need to have our a-game.

Tomorrow my adventure companion Sam leaves the race and heads back to England and work. It will be weird without her as our friendship started on our first level of training and as a fellow Tooting resident we regularly met to discuss the merits of wooly pants. To mark the end of her experience Dad very kindly took us flying over Albany and the Clipper fleet this morning. Skipper Greg was due to join but a last minute call for refuelling took precidence.

There were still two masts missing as we flew across the bay with UNICEF and  Telemed still en route. We then got a little surprise as we looked down to see UNICEF cross the finish line escorted by LMAX the race winners. Our accidental timing was immaculate. A special sight and I can only imagine how relieved that crew must feel. Thanks dad! In fact my dad has become a local celebrity with radio interviews and front page attention in the paper after his surprise aerobatics display on Missi’s arrival. Just wow. Sorry UNICEF!

I had hoped that I’d be able to share with you lots of photos. I have some but as my camera is my iPhone/diary it stayed sheltered down below when there was any notable ‘weather’ (big waves, grey seas etc). Instead you get to see the albatrosses, stunning sunsets and motley crew.

It is pretty special to say that I’ve sailed the southern ocean.

Well, at times I felt like this day would never come. On other days I didn’t want it to come. The last 26 days have been some of the most challenging of my life in so many different ways. I’m now on terra firma after a spectacular finish crossing the line just 2 minutes ahead of ichorcoal after 5,200 miles of sailing. Just wow. The icing on the cake had to be the surprise air display my dad put on as we crossed the line.

Once the dust has settled (read: a layer of skin has peeled and my hair has been dealt with) I shall be back with the highs and lows of the Southern Ocean.

For now it’s bed time and woe betide anyone that tries to wake me up at 4 am this morning.

XX

Amazing the difference 24 hours can make.  All those who want to be here are smiling and working hard.  Missi is buzzing now. The wind is behind us, our speed is impressive and we’re reeling in Ichorcoal.  It is going to be a close finish…  Hopefully my next message will be from land!

xxx

Throughout my two night watches last night (8-12 and 4-8) and after the
mothers had finished in the galley I set about Vin’s surprise birthday cake.
Apple and Walnut. As supplies are running very low I have had to squirrel away the ingredients over the last week.  The boat only victualled for 24 days thinking we’d be done in 21, today was day 24.  From tomorrow we are on the emergency food bags and should we need it (god forbid) the storm bags after that.  Anyway, the cake came together perfectly including my stencil for a birthday message on top.  A welcome distraction from the desperate conditions.

No wind.  Not a breath. And when there is anything we have to go in the wrong direction.  Further, Ichorcoal and others charging us down.  It is beyond frustrating when you know that a few very simple acts/decisions could have changed the result unrecognisably. Still, I’m too tired to care especially.  That probably says a lot because those who know me will know that I’m a competitive animal with little effort.

Anyway, the cake was very well received as all 19 crew sang to her after sunrise.  The good thing about the watch system is that it always feels like morning/afternoon/evening and therefore you can justify cake at any time. Today it was 7:45am!

Life aboard is getting a little edgy as tempers are fraying and many crew
members are quite simply desperate to get ashore.  I am one of them.  The
tiredness is unbelievable and the poor diet is taking its toll (you’ve only
heard the good bits).  I have started getting headaches and feel weak/sick. As the lack of wind still challenges us and our likely arrival window slips
(25ppm/26am) I am starting to wonder how I will ever get back on the boat to continue.  There is no room for grumbles as everyone is feeling similar. An hour ago we heard that Ichorcoal have now overtaken us after playing cat and mouse on the horizon.  Greg is putting on a brave face but must be feeling terrible. I’m sure all anyone needs is a single amazing sleep but for now that’s just a dream.  The wind is now gradually building so I’m hoping we’ll make good, calm and steady headway to Albany.

Enough drivel.  There is a HUGE piece of news.  One that you simply won’t
guess.  Odeon is leaving in Albany.  After his third or fourth attempt to
circumnavigate (I forget how many) he’s decided it is just not for him.  I
actually do feel a bit sorry for him as I don’t like to see anyone fall short
of their dreams.  Still, it is clearly a weight off my shoulders and most
others.

Mother watch has dragged out a bit and I’m currently waiting for the bread to rise before baking (Its not rising so I’m a bit stuck as to what to do)
whilst surrounded by spinnaker woolers and the kite itself.  Sleep is next on the list.

Rumours have also started flying about who is one what watch for the next leg.   I think I may have Mike Moore as my watch leader, a lovely american guy who is shit hot at sailing.  Rumour also has it that I may be ‘Bow 1’ which currently fills me with horror.  Bow 1 runs the foredeck and everything forward of the mast.  It is a reflection of the lack of experience on the next leg. In fact, the next leg presents all sorts of worries as we are short on numbers; Odeon leaving, Sally still signed off by the doc, Mel also signed off by the doc….that leaves 17 of which 5 or 6 are new joiners (we had 23 on leg 1).  More Southern Ocean, the small matter of the Sydney Hobart…its going to be TOUGH.

I had best go.  Sorry to hear that it is cold in the UK.  Thanks for your help
mum.  I will keep going and will remain as upbeat as possible.

Love to all xxx

The next few days will be interesting.  There is thought amongst the crew (not outwardly from the skipper) that Clipper may be considering shortening the race and getting boats to motor to Albany.  We have covered 11 nautical miles in the last three hours.  For those at the back of the fleet with 1200 miles to go even with the motor they are a week away from port.  I know that in the last race one boat arrived in the early hours and was turned around to race start midday that day but we can’t help think that unlikely as so many boats are impacted and it is a crew changeover port.  If that is the case we may get in on the 25th after all.  Fingers crossed.  Still, on a positive we are seeing some of the most beautiful sunrises, sunsets (this evening’s reminded me of
one of Karen’s paintings), night skies and glassy seas. Today we also got to
see a huge shoal of tuna leaping high out of the water but sadly no predator. Those sorts of things keep spirits high when the chocolate and Haribo is running low.

We managed to cross off a number of jobs from the to-do list today easing the work load as best we can in port.  I was on my hands and knees scrubbing a month’s worth of debris (M&Ms, biltong, apple, cigarette ash…) off the deck. Most satisfying and right to do something ‘active’ after a few dormant days.

I’m walking around a little sheepishly on this watch because I apparently
spent our last off watch wimpering and talking in my sleep.  The mothers whose luxury it is to have a full night’s sleep were apparently awake all night and the on watch took it in turns to see the animal in the zoo.  Not ideal and perhaps reflective of my current quality of sleep at times.

Tomorrow I have a covert operation in the 8-midnight watch to bake Vin a
birthday cake.  A couple of days ago I had to squirrel away some ingredients as supplies are getting low.  Amused to read in her crew diary today that she is half expecting one.

Have just been cleaning the diesel out of the engine bilges.  Beautiful.

Lucy xxx

To ensure that Mission Performance and the rest of the Clipper Race fleet can embrace whatever weather conditions are thrown at us we carry a compliment of 11 sails:

– The main sail which itself can be ‘reefed’ to increase or decrease the sail area depending on wind strength

– The staysail, a smaller sail on the inner forestay to bridge the wind flow between the forward-most Yankee sails and the main

– Three Yankees. Our mid-sized Yankee took extensive damage in the Cape Town storm so is sadly out of action until it is repaired in Australia

– The windseeker. As it names suggests this is for upwind sailing in light airs. A sail that you don’t want to see very often and one we certainly weren’t expecting to use in the Southern Ocean. Guess what’s up on deck right now?

– The storm sails. Again sails that you perhaps don’t want to have to use in anger. Bright orange in colour (more visible if you need help!) and a bit like two napkins in size.

– Last but not least our three spinnakers for downwind conditions varying in both fabric weight and size.

Why am I telling you this? Well, I think it is fair to say that when we departed African shores we had all expected a fast and furious downwind sleigh ride to Albany relying on our heavyweight spinnaker. However, this journey has been far from regular and today we hoisted the eleventh sail type on the leg, Bodeccia, our lightweight spinnaker.

This sail hasn’t flown since we left the shores of Rio when it took extensive damage. After hours of work by crew, supporters and professionals in Cape Town she flies again. Sadly however this means one thing, little wind.

After breaking the 1,000-mile mark last night our progress has ground to a halt. Boats behind us are catching and those ahead are tantilisingly close to Australia. It’s frustrating to say the least. Even the albatross aren’t flying because they don’t have wind to assist. We want to get there to see friends and family and to rest and recuperate before the next leg. I for one want to celebrate my dad’s birthday (Happy Birthday Dad!).

Meanwhile we are sat on deck twiddling our thumbs whiling away the hours admiring the sunrises and sunsets playing childing games in between. It’s amazing what constitutes as fun after 20 days at sea. Guess the country is a favourite with clues such as ‘wait patiently, stand in line’ (Kuwait) or ‘big bird from the Far East’ (Croatia).

Hopefully the wind will return and we’ll pick up speed and spirits.

P.s. Mark says hi to friends and family.

Once again the ‘Big Storm’ that caused some disturbance further back in the fleet (60-70kts) failed to appear. We have had a day of rain and the
temperatures have dropped again but all ok. It is still fairly mild in
comparison with recent days.  Currently wearing: sports bra, woolly pants, 2x socks (one borrowed water proof pair), a pair of plastic bags (also on my
feet), thick wool base layer trousers and top, down jacket and down
salopettes, foul weather smock and salopettes, merino beanie, additional beanie, boots and life jacket…oh the joys of getting dressed and undressed.

Its funny, as we are about to embark on day 20 my emotions are beginning to turn.  For days 9-13 ish I felt a bit low, I was not yet immune to the smell and dirt, progress was slow, we’d had the woolly socks beaten out of us, it was freezing and we were slipping down the rankings.  Since, life has been far more buoyant, increasingly so as every storm dissipated and Australia edged closer.  Now I’m a bit mixed.  Partly ecstatic, after-all I have almost crossed the Southern Ocean and I am going to be greeted by family when I get there.  Further, Australia means drinks with friends, the white sand of the Whitsundays, the Sydney Hobart race and CHRISTMAS! That’s a big deal.  But then there’s the fact that my race, this two year adventure, is that bit closer to the end.  Let’s not think about that yet, too much fun (?) still to have.

We’ve had a hard couple of watches as the ocean sprint drew to a close.  Sadly 4th at last count.  In the skipper’s words we have worked harder for this than any other but there were two factors out of our control; the integrity (or lack of) of our kit and the fact that other boats will inevitably face differing, potentially more favourable weather conditions.

It is back to high pressure now (I am on log duty and am watching the
barometer rise) and that is expected to continue to 200 miles off the coast.
Fully expect a 5:30am suncream application tomorrow!!

Thanks for the emails and please please wish my Dad and Georgie a happy
birthday.

Hope the weather is being kind back home.  Not only will that make
November slightly more enjoable for all but it will hopefully mean good
progress on the house renovation (ignorance is bliss!).

Love to all.  xxx

First and foremost, HAPPY BIRTHDAY GEORGIE!!

Oh no, oh no, oh no!….Like pass the parcel, you know it is going to stop
at some point but the odds are against it being you.  Thankfully it wasn’t
me when the mid-heads decided to block.  No dyno-rod out here.  Time to get up the floor boards, flex the rubber gloves and stink the boat out with poo.   A team set about bailing the toilet, cleaning the pipes and then anti-
bacing and bleaching every surface.  Living in such close confinement to
that and having 19 people use one loo is a new level of unpleasant.  All
because of one wet wipe. Still, worse things happen at sea….errrr.

A stunning sunrise greeted our 4-8am watch this morning.  It was however a little over zealous to apply sun cream at 5:30 am.  You could describe that watch as perfect.  A steady 12 knots over the water in precisely the direction of Albany, nice calm seas and a freshly stocked snack cupboard. Just as the smell of toast was wafting up the companion way the bloody kite wrapped.  All hands, wake the skipper, get it down on deck (toast getting cold), mark the tear, hoist the yankee, prep the replacement kite (porridge now stodgy) and then hand over the chaos to the new watch.  Ooops.

With just over a week to go there is a certain buoyant feel again.  Everyone
is counting down in their own way using units of measurement that make the time feel that bit less.  No one is wishing time away but everyone is
longing for sleep etc.

Anyway there are two things between us and the finish (as things stand). 1) the ocean sprint 2) a big storm.  I think that both are due to start at similar times and we are going to fly by the seat of our pants with the spinnaker in the likely wild seas.  Brace, brace.  It will put those leigh clothes to the test (bed seat belts) and no doubt I’ll wake with net imprint on my face and my finger clinging to my cubby hole.

It has now got to the point that I can’t wait to have a pixie cut because my
scalp is on fire and the birds are now nesting.  Amazing what not having a
mirror does.  And then I get flashes to my fist day back in the office where
pixie cuts are perhaps not the norm….jeeez.

Enjoying life at sea (apart from Odeon).  I will miss the simplicity when
its all over.  Still, I have 4 amazing land stops to go.  Wahoo.  Enjoy your
Tuesday morning!

xxx