Growing muscles

Some have asked what sort of training we are required to do ahead of the race so I thought I’d provide a brief insight.

Clipper run a compulsory and intensive training programme over 4 progressive one-week sessions. For me this started in April ’14 soon after I signed up for the race. As mentioned, it is compulsory so even if you are an accomplished sailor you are required to complete. This is understandable really as it is important that everyone is familiar with the boat and operates in a similar manner approaching each task (or Evolution) in the same way every time. Sounds simple but that’s how you can be efficient and safe (perhaps better said the other way around!) every time.

Week one: this week is really about familiarisation and includes your RYA competent crew qualification. You quickly appreciate that sailing speak is a whole new language (a sheet is a rope and not bed related for example), a boat has many trip hazards (you become intimate with these pretty quickly) and using sails to climb into your bunk takes some getting used to (as does the scoring system for the dismount).

For me this was an eye opener. Sails are bloody heavy and the combination of fresh air and physical work is exhausting. I think it was soon after this week that I took up boxing to try to wake up my arms and shoulders. Until this point I had cycled and done a bit of running and having an upper body was a nuisance.

Incredibly friendships came out of level 1 which I will treasure for many years to come. You share the start of a long and enormous journey do I guess it’s only natural.

week 2: this was a bit of a shock. It started with sea survival training. Can you swim in a life jacket towing someone? Can you get in an out of a life raft (don’t underestimate just how hard this is)? And just how uncomfortable is it to get into the life raft with the crew, close the doors and wait for the sauna to heat up? Very.

After that we had our first taste of being offshore day and night without checking into dry land. No warm showers in the marina porter cabin, no solid toilet doors. A flavour of what was to come.

I did my ‘level 2’ back in February 2015. A longer gap than I had hoped after level 1 but that was care of a broken leg. Anyway, as is true to form we had 40 knot winds in the shelter of the marina and similar when we took to the Channel. In fact, we hoisted the main sail and two reefing lines instantaneously sheered. Back to the marina, playing bumper cars with the other boats, and into the chandler.

Eventually we got out and stayed out experiencing the ‘channel chop’. The English Channel is a confused mass of water which means there are no steady waves that your stomach can get used to. At one point I was called on deck in sleet and snow at midnight and wondered where everyone else was. There were meant to be 7 on my watch and 7 handing over from the last watch. There was me (my watch) and Dennis (the other watch). That’s it. I thought I may have poisened everyone as I was ‘mother’ the night before but it appears it was the Channel. At one point on the south side of the Isle of Wight with waves crashing over the bow there was a call from the very sleep deprived skipper to take down the Yankee (the forward most sail). The helm was being sick over her shoulder, I crawled to the snake pit (the home of all winches and lines) and the skipper and mate danced on the foredeck in between being fully submerged in the icy sea. Special.

Week 3: this started with some boring offshore safety classroom training (I won’t say that if I ever come to need it!). After that we took to the boats for the introduction of the spinnaker. The largest and most complex of the sails to set. In fact there are three of onboard and their use will depend on the wind strength. You will have read in this week’s skipper and crew duties that they are now aptly names after warrior legends.

I’m sorry to be graphic but this was also the week of my first proper use of the heads. It takes getting used to a flimsy piece of cloth separating you from the galley and the rest of the crew. Not only that but you’re propped up at an angle of 45 degrees. Trust me, it is a big moment as you cannot carry any inhibitions with you around the world.

I made some lovely friends on this trip, mostly now on other boats, and I can’t wait to catch up with them all in Rio and beyond.

Week 4: well this was the biggie. While all previous training is big and important, this is the culmination of all that hard work. All 12 boats were out with over 200 crew and the racing skippers sprinkled across them. This week was racing! We practiced race starts and sailed against each other to france, twice, and to the West Country.

Truth be told we were mid fleet most of the time and at one point we were becalmed in the middle of the channel. Once out of the shipping lanes we set about learning to whip and splice ropes (to stop fraying and to make useful loops/doughnuts) and service winches. Once we’d done our work our skipper allowed us to play. Pretty incredible swimming in such an expanse of water. Thankfully it was on one of our few summer’s days.

Whipping and splicing Be-calmed A Le Mans race start

All that training is now behind us and have a single refresher day when we join the boat, in my case when I get to Rio.

As for training outside of the sailing, I have been working hard and have become a pet project of Crossfit Tooting. For those who aren’t familiar it, Crossfit was set up by some ex US marines (I think) to strengthen and condition the full body. It’s hard core. Thanks to Dani, Steve and the team I’m now the proud owner of some muscles (not desperately lady-like) and some callused hands…

To give you a flavour this morning we had a workout in pairs which included a 2,500m row where every 500m you had to do 25 burpees. After that you had to transfer 800kg across the gym (40 m) by hand.

Still, I’m loving it and will do all it takes to get into my bunk to sleep (hence the need for pull ups) and be on the pointy end of the boat when the going gets tough.

A new sort of manicure

Have a good day!

Growing muscles

Out for a duck

In recent months all non-work, non-essential items have been deferred to the gap between work and play. I found myself doing the same today before I realised that I’m now living that gap. Bugger.

You’ve only got to look at the first page of the list to understand why my alarm is set for the usual time tomorrow morning (bugger again). Another attempt at bloody pull-ups at 7 and then onto crossing things off.

I suspect you can tell a lot about someone’s psychology from the quality (or otherwise) of their to-do list. No comments please!

Oh jesus

leg compensation – I promise I’m neither American nor claiming benefits. I’m less confident saying that I’m not scraping the financial barrel trying to get an extension on my house done while away.

baby gifts – what on earth do you buy your best friend or brother’s babies that aren’t due to arrive until I’m mid ocean a week apart? Their like London buses, just when I think nothing’s coming and turn my back, more than one arrives!

Kit list-Good old socks. Sounds simple right? Quick trip to m&s will sort? Nope. Think about it…what’s the sock plan (who knew one needed a plan for such things)? One daily rotating thin pair and one weekly rotating thick? But then what about when your feet are cold? Two thick? Then they won’t fit into boots. Maybe wool will solve the trick and yet you want something quick drying. And so it goes on. Socks will stay on the to-do list for a while. It’ll be like ordering the main course, make a decision under pressure and suffer food (or sock) envy forever more.

list for mum-Mum is balancing a degree with manning the Grimstead control room. Any kit SOSs and mum should have a list. Theory sounds great but that involves spreadsheets and organisation. Neither being a particular forte.

Wash sleeping bag-if you could see the size of this waterproof, fur lined beast you’d realise that this isn’t a 40 degree and fast spin job. I think the Tooting laundrette is about to get a shock.

Neighbour access-I don’t think I’ve had a proper winge to you about my neighbour just yet. I might spare that for a day when I’m in a bad mood so you get the full un-cut version. In short, she’s weird and is trying to scupper my plan to renovate my house while I’m away care of a frog. 16 wk build and I’m gone for 16 wks. Ignorance is bliss and in two weeks that’ll be me.

Bla bla (brush over the will because my parents read this) bla bla.

Currency for destinations- we were all asked for any skills the boat could depend on. The Clipper team were lapping up the doctors, restaurateurs, engineers. They then got to me, currency sales. Hmmm. And I cocked up sorting my own currency purchase while I was at work. Off to the post office.

This brings me onto the last point I was going to mention, the Kindle. As I mentioned yesterday, work very generously gave me a Kindle to while away a few hours. Over the next 2 weeks I need to fill the thing up with literary masterpieces. I’m a non-fiction girl and all suggestions are welcome. Recent books have mostly involved boats sinking or great escapes from prisoner of war camps (see earlier comment re psychology).

In fact now may be a fitting time to share with you a great read for anyone interested in sailing, looking to manage a team or keen to get an insight into how others think. Take a look at ‘Team Spirit’ by Brendan Hall. Read and enjoy.

Anyway, I did cross one thing off my to-do list today-this little dude. The where’s wally of this adventure. You’ll see more on him later.

If in doubt, duck

Out for a duck

Origami Squares

That moment when you open one eye and then quickly close it in disbelief. Disbelief of just how much your head hurts, disbelief that after 30-odd years you still can’t remember to have a glass of water before bed and disbelief that you asked a delivery man to arrive at 7:30am on the morning after your leaving party. Yes, well, that’s me today.

Yesterday came and went at great speed. I’m so glad I took Sajel’s ‘I think you should wear something a little nautical’ seriously. Actually, more so, I’m glad I took the conventional navy stripes meaning rather than the more accustomed thermal underwear and foulies translation. Everyone made such a huge and unexpected effort for a rather undeserving me. The inflatable shark, the map of the world, the bunting, the sea themed fairy cakes. Amazing and a real treat for the person I was asked to interview yesterday. Thank you.

[Oh good, good, the builders have just arrived next door with a hammer and cement mixer]

After a few drinks with colleagues I rather aptly caught up with some of the ‘graduate guild’. The cool name (really?) we gave to the graduate class of 2004. Class makes it sound grand. There are three of us and an honourary wife. The only crying that was done was because of laughter. Priceless.

The poor restaurant had to deal with us being completely childish. Remember as a kid making an origami toy out of a square of paper where you pick a number and then a colour, lift up a paper flap and it tells you ‘you’re my best friend’ or ‘kiss the person next to you’? Some bright spark (I think it was me) decided to give that game an outing after 20 years. We each submitted a couple of undisclosed challenges/dares and began to play the adult, Russian roulette, tequila shot version. Desperately immature now I type in the cold light of day but beyond funny at the time.

I still have plenty of work to do to square things off but that’s it folks. After 11 years at work the umbilical cord has been cut, albeit temporarily, and the challenge really begins. A lady of leisure without the comfort of a salary (bed, shower, decent sleep) and with the experience of a lifetime just around the corner.

The countdown has just been reset from leaving work to leaving for Rio. 18 days.

Origami Squares

Prunes

It’s fair to say that I’m an emotional wreck about my last day in the office tomorrow. I would consider myself a strong person but in the last two weeks I’ve cried twice and I think I’m heading for a hatrick.

I checked my phone just as I was walking into a client meeting today. BAD IDEA.

‘I think you’re awesome. Lots of love and see you on the other side. Big bro’

How am I expected to talk about managing currency risk when he’s just dropped an emotional bombshell?!

Anyway, a quick crossfit blast this evening and another attempt at a bloody pull-up has been sufficiently distracting.

That is until I get a message from Sarah. ‘Good luck tomorrow!’ Without this lady my adventure would look very different, probably a weekend dinghy regatta in Canary Wharf! Lovely to hear from her and I’m touched by her wishes.

Just as I go to close my eyes I have one last glimpse at the tracker. If I dont I know Hugo will be more up to date than me. WTF. Excuse my French. We’re pointing to Africa. We’re meant to be going to South America. They know that right? I revert true to form and resume back seat sailing. The news however infers disaster has struck.

Our water maker, one of the few critical items for survival, literally, has packed up. The crew are turning to prunes and more importantly the boat is turning around. We’re heading for Telemed at the back of the fleet to collect a spare part and make amends.

It will actually be quite fun to do a boat to boat transfer. You can’t just throw, you have to rig up a pully system to protect the precious cargo. We’re well drilled in such things but it will be different doing it for real AND doing it with Diane (the skipper of Telemed). That’ll make it even more exciting. I’m wondering if her crew fitted bumpers to her boat during prep week because she’s got an unfortunate habit of putting holes in it! Extra long transfer lines please!

We’re hoping for a timing correction from the race officials but this is nothing short of a demoralising disaster heading back into the light airs that we’ve battled so hard to escape. Still, we’ll be a boat for Ichorcoal to chase and that’ll be a fitting distraction for all.

One more alarm!

Prunes

Turn slowly back to the weather

I am writing this message with a saddened heart
I guess it’s been a measured risk right from the start.
We’ve been put through our paces over and over
To face oceans after that right turn at Dover.
The Elements reign above any syllabus
No man can stand up to what nature throws at us.
Yes, it’s dangerous but that’s part of the appeal,
If it were a simple trip then how would we feel?
Today’s update is not about me or Mission.
Who cares what today has done to our position.
Andrew Ashman of the clipper family passed,
Our sails proverbially lowered to half mast.
I am overwhelmed with shock and awash with woe,
How Ichorcoal are coping I just do not know.
The bond built on a boat is like nothing before
After a week at sea it feels like many more.
In Andrew’s honour the voyage must continue
With care and caution engrained in every sinew.
When you’re ready, turn slowly back to the weather
We’ll be strong and celebrate his life together.

Andrew Ashman

Turn slowly back to the weather

An early call for fresh pants

Clipper fever has hit hard. The race tracker ‘sperms’ (as Jez calls them) keep popping up all over the place. If I’m out to a client meeting there’s always race brief on my blackberry or at the desk on my return. A professional sailor is ready to break out of Stu! Without realising it the team are making me incredibly excited.

HUGE progress today in just about every way. We’re in 6th, have good speed, have just said goodbye to Europe and I’ve almost mastered my first pull-up in the gym. Even better, the Warriors describe champagne sailing while those at the front are reporting an exhausting time. Team morale is kicking in and the Warriors have that in spades.

Changing a sail is no mean feat. It’s hard to comprehend just how big and heavy these things are. Each boat has 16,500 sq ft of sail on board…a tennis court is 2,800sq ft! Now think how hard it is to fold a fitted sheet. Add to that the fact you’re at 45 degrees, wet and there’s 30kts of breeze. I love it but many don’t.

The Warriors are whistling away to themselves as they work and Missi is purring. It’s such a buoyant day on board that Greg has called for an early change of pants (skipper’s perks, I’m only taking three pairs for a month).

LMAX the monkey

Meanwhile team GB are cursing. One ripped sail and ‘a splayed mess of metal’ replaced with a tack block jury rig (read: bodge job). Thats what happens when you push too hard, we all probably see that in office-life too. Let’s see how this unravels. Maybe, just maybe, slowly slowly catchy monkey is going to pay dividends. Be nice doldrums.

Anyway, a pleasant distraction from my mad neighbour and 2 month build delay.

An early call for fresh pants

It’s the thought that counts


News in from the boat…Mike Moore, one of the watch leaders:

‘We’ve really demonstrated how things can change in an ocean race, having held every position from 3rd to 11. We seem to be about 5th or 6th at the moment, but it changes every watch. I’m on sattelite commnications now, so entries will be brief. The crew has really come together – doing an awesome job of sailing the boat, cooking for a small army, and keeping the boat working.’

Another great quote from Gavin about 6 hours ago taken from an email to his dad.

‘About to go on watch. We’ve lost the wind hence the frustrating pause. We’re happy and a quick boat when things are going for us. We have our sights firmly on the chase. Morale excellent’

One consistent theme…happy and hungry.

You’ll come to get to know all the crew in time. Gavin is exceptional. He is hearing impaired and has a permanent need to wear two hearing aids. With the help of lip reading he can get by day-to-day.

Imagine nightfall when there’s a bit of a breeze. You or I can’t hear, let alone Gavin, and you certainly can’t see. No hand signals and no lip-reading. Colin (will explain his story another time because that too is incredible) came up with an idea that’s ingenius. It puts any corporate diversity and inclusion policy to shame.

Every crew member now has glow in the dark lip balm and glow in the dark gloves. Exceptional.

I don’t yet know if they work in real life but this is really a case of ‘it’s the thought that counts’.

I clearly remember Gavin raising a concern at the crew bonding weekend in the Brecon beacons. He understandably didn’t want to feel out of the banter. I hope this is a reflection of just how much we care about each and every one on board Missi.

By now they’ll be settled into the watch system and will be adapting to their sea legs. A calm Channel and Bay of Biscay may have just saved a few stomachs and kept crew strength in reserve.

Come on the warriors!

3.5 days in

It’s the thought that counts

Back seat sailing

We’re nearly 36 hours in and I cant decide if it’s more of an emotional roller coaster on the boat or the sofa.

To quote my brother I’m ‘the most competitive person’ he’s ever known-perhaps a little excessive but I get his point! In a race I’ve always thought that to be a good thing but trust me, when your watching from afar and have absolutely no input other than moral support then it’s bloody difficult. That’s irrespective of how loud I talk to my iPhone!

Sailing past Dover

Navionics and vessel finder are never far away. As is a second opinion in the form of my brother. I feel like I know the tides and traffic separation schemes in the Channel intimately. Seeing us slip from third to sixth in real time yesterday and to wake up in last place is disappointing.

I keep telling myself that we’re just a few hundred miles in to a 5,000+ mile race. Things change.

Two important learnings:

  1. You only get one piece of the jigsaw when sitting in the backseat.
  2. Regardless of what I said at the top, it must be so much harder on board. Crap sleep, food out of a dog bowl, heartbreak from saying goodbye, trying so hard that you physically hurt, your first glimpse at not being able to get dry and that moment when you realise that trying everything in your power is just not quite enough on the day.

Taking a flyerTides that tease

Keep going warriors. Enjoy the chase. Well done LMAX for an incredible claw back.

Back seat sailing

And they’re off!

The 31st of August 2015 has been etched in my brain for the last 20 months.

20 months ago I signed up to join the ‘adventure of a lifetime’. One of those tag lines that I feared over promised. How wrong was I!

There have been so many adventures already, some set to test, but initially as an individual and now as a crew, the experience has and continues to be mind blowing. More on those to follow.

Not only have I learnt to sail but I’ve learnt to set up a blog too (I think!). Bear with me as I get into the swing of things.

For now, all you need to know is that the race to Rio started a couple of hours ago and The Warriors are in third (out of 12). With 5,990 miles to go it’s early days but we’ll take every psychological advantage we can get.

Proud to be in the race, proud with what I have achieved so far and proud to be a Warrior. No longer is this an ‘I’ thing but a ‘we’ thing!Parade of Sail image The leg 1 crew Current Standings

Follow us on:

https://www.clipperroundtheworld.com/race/standings

or look for CV31 on vessel finder.

Good luck Mission Performance.

And they’re off!