Half-way party from a previous ARC Rally
The latest blog from Challenger 3 lulls you into the delights and frustrations of a tranquil day during the ARC Rally only to shake you awake with the rapid changes that can happen between watches. A great read, unfortunately we don’t yet have the pictures of Ricky at the helm, you’ll have to use your imagination…
Staying Calm All Day
Wednesday 30 November 2016: Suddenly, without warning, another day has passed on board our fine vessel Challenger 3 – and what a day it has been. Just 24 hours ago we were barely managing to make half a knot towards our destination and now I sit here, at 1030 Challenger time, struggling to stay upright as we scream upwind towards our destination at 9-10 knots with a good 30 degrees of heel to port.
We passed our halfway point several days ago, having now run 1,614Nm and with only 1,231Nm to go, but the party for such an event was saved for the ‘convenient’ flat, calm weather we knew was coming all yesterday.
With the watch system continuing as normal during the lack of wind, one person ‘helmed’ (held the wheel still to preserve every ounce of motion that may be delivered upon us), the rest of the on-watch (and most of the off-watch) sunbathed in the intense heat, with every breath of breeze welcomed for the cooling it provided, as well as the minuscule increase in boat speed that we could barely observe.
Get The Party Started
Early morning position
At 1200 CT, the party commenced, with the whole crew emerging in varying degrees of fancy dress, from a respectable representation of Dame Edna by Ralph – who has to be commended for the heavy wool jacket he bore in the midday sun – to a stereotypical representation of a pirate from our Skipper.
‘B’ watch went for team costumes, further building on Tony’s Fisher-Price knowledge of the constellations, with pieces of paper towel dotted around their bodies upon a black background, walking around claiming to be latin-sounding names that nobody was really sure existed. As for myself, I took my shirt off, put on some multi-coloured trousers and wrapped my torso in rainbow wool that is ordinarily preserved for wrapping our spinnaker. I thought I pulled it off rather well.
‘C’ watch included the obligatory pirate, resplendent with eyeliner, sword, and hook, plus a Cleopatra that only Tomasz could pull off – please don’t sit like that you are supposed to be a lady!
Music and party games commenced, but most of all we listened to Tony lamenting that he did not have the foresight to buy cigarettes for the half way party or the willpower to save any. After the precious luxury of a fizzy, refrigerated drink (this pleasure really cannot be understated in the 35C dry heat), the majority of the crew took advantage of the stillness to take a refreshing dip into the 4-kilometer deep swimming pool that persistently surrounds us.
Diving off the bow, and taking a look underneath the shallow waves to reveal nothing but blue depths all around was a truly magical moment for me. Facing away from the boat and over to the bright blue horizon led me to reflect on that fact that I may be the only human to ever be in, or swim in this spot. A blissful, existential moment on our somewhat routine crossing.
Meet the Dorados
The only wildlife to be found was a small school of three friendly Dorados (sometimes known as Mahi Mahi), a beautiful, rainbow-coloured fish that is very common to the middle Atlantic waters. They had been swimming around our boat all day, presumably feeding off whatever scraps of food was nesting on the bottom of our hull, and whatever we threw overboard (I suspect they may now have diabetes and an alcohol problem).
They were even named by Tony, and when I was in the water they swam over to me to say ‘Hello’ to what was probably the first human they had ever seen. I was most disappointed to hear that one of them was brutally murdered and eaten after I had retreated to my bunk – although the rest of the crew did not share my complaint.
To make matters worse, the one who killed John was the same as the one who decided to name him! Aha, said the Pirate it was not John but a curious Dorada taking the bait Tomazc and Tony had laid, only to be caught by Peter who was randomly pulling in the line when it happened to snag the fish, all by design of course!
Here Comes the Wind
Surprisingly close to Challenger 2 and 4
The party was wrapped up in the early hours of the afternoon, bodies counted back on board and the deck tidied. The clocks were put back for the final time to align us with the UTC-4 nature of St. Lucia, and Peter’s watch furiously held the wheel still to try and gather speed. No luck there, but over the next three watches, in the early hours of the morning, we managed to get her going 5 knots in almost the right direction, much to the joy of everyone on board.
The wind slowly filled in over the next few hours we were finally freed from our mid-Atlantic imprisonment, the joy of finally having a moving boat was perceptible even in those who are feeling a bit under the weather with a cold going round. So here we are again, 1100 Challenger time, screaming along at 9-10 knots, as I struggle to stay upright with a good 30 degrees of heel to port – spirits high and smiles all round. Soon, and suddenly – without warning – another day will pass on our fine vessel Challenger 3.
Andrew & Peter
The Sounds of Speed
From calm to speedy in a matter of moments
What a pleasant surprise to wake up on the tilt again and the sound of the sea rushing under the boat, the joys of upwind sailing and living at 40’. The wind has come round a little more and filled in very nicely filling the genoa and providing some super helming at around 9 knots in glorious sunshine. Team leader Nic took to the mother watch today with copious help from the crew, a fried egg sunny side up was a true treat for my breakfast.
Much excitement today as we all entered our time/date for our probable finish time which ranges over 3 days 6-8 Dec, although I went for the 8th I will be more than happy to be proven wrong. This was followed by a general discussion about our leaving dates for some and the anticipated island hopping for those continuing on to Antigua. My mother watch tomorrow and looking forward to discovering what the skipper has planned for the meal plan ??? I guess it will involve potatoes and apples !!!!
BTW: the leg of ham is looking good hanging in the sail locker and we really should start to carve into it.
Peter
The afternoon watch started well with champagne off-the-beam sailing with a steady force 4, sunshine, and speeds of up to 10 kts. Sadly, this steadily descended into trouble as the wind gradually died off almost completely, leaving the genoa flapping pitifully in what little breeze prevailed.
As if this wasn’t enough, B watch was hit by a short, sharp squall. This ended as abruptly as it arrived and left newly self-appointed ‘Deputy Assistant Watch Leader’ Tony mid-shower covered in shower gel! No doubt a court-martial is pending for briefly leaving the watch leaderless at a crucial time. At least we were treated to a spectacular dolphin show and a complete rainbow off the stern. With the boat completely becalmed as the sun set we left the evening watch to pick up the pieces and hopefully get us going again!
Charlie
0050 Skipper/Mate time (UTC) (written over 30/11 – 01/12)
The last 24 hours have continued to reflect the shifting and complex winds (and lack of it!) experienced on this year’s ARC.
A drifty day set us up nicely for a half way party and at 1500 UTC in position 23’14.05N 039’56.00 most of the crew launched themselves enthusiastically but slightly hesitantly into the warm Big Blue. Over 4000m of water sucked at our toes as we took it in turns to wear Andrews’s goggles and stare down into the deepest depths. The shade of blue seen down there is beautiful, you can almost feel the vastness beneath you, all around stretching to the horizon and beyond.
Swimming away from the boat, Challenger 3 looked huge, towering above. Trying to fit her into the frame of my waterproof camera…however on removing eye from lens, our 72foot, powerful fort of a yacht and safe haven looked small in the surrounding ocean. On contemplating this I swam back towards her, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable and very insignificant.
Three glistening Dorado fish swam around our boat for a few hours glistening neon blue and green. They were fascinating to watch and it was nice to have their company.
Unfortunately one was to become supper (and so as not to waste it I tried a mouthful) but was quite sad and disappointed that something so amazing, which had added to a special few moments in the sea, had ended – on the other hand it was a skilful catch by Peter and his watch and they had enjoyed the challenge.
It’s All About Getting the Most From Your Wind…
Yesterday started with no wind and further frustrations until the boat leapt to life and we heeled over, speeding towards our finish line, close to the wind. Enjoying the change of angle and Challenger 3 doing what she does best, I darted around the boat getting photos of the deep blue sea rushing onto the deck, over the bow and invariably over me. Bouncy sight taking with the sextant proved a fun balancing act and I went for a nap, happy, sun-kissed and soggy.
Awoken a couple of hours later, my buccaneering bunk felt eerily still… sail flapped, boom banged – the dreaded stills. More hours of trying to get the boat moving and fill the sails. Ricky, myself, Peter and his watch changed sails, tacked and twisted, pulled and eased, upped and downed, pole in, pole out, up, down, round and round.
A lovely conversation with Monkey on Challenger 2, 21nm SE of us but in better winds. Amazing to match race the other boat for so long. No matter what happens, 1st, 2nd or 3rd, it’s been an amazing race so far, having company and banter from never too far away.
Ricky, enjoying the earlier fast sailing and now frustrated with the lack of progress ended up doing an all-dayer! I sent him off to bed and knuckled down to do a few more hours.
…And Then Using It When It Arrives Like A Bullet
A couple of hours later after more ups and downs, ins and outs and a few winds from black clouds, the wind picked up and the boat took off. Rushing on deck to trim and make the most of the increased wind speed we made a good course and I went below to hide from a splatter of rain.
No sooner had I settled with a smile on my face than the wind increased, the boat heeled over and torrential rain flooded down the companion way. A shout from Peter and excited noises came from the crew as they struggled with the helm, doing a fine job of controlling the helm. Jacket on, and immediately soaked, the scene played out.
Peter took the helm, Tomasz eased the main, then moved to release our mini preventer that I had seen was still attached. Unfortunately, not quite in the teeth, the mainsheet eased itself out, and instead of the dramatic flying of the boom I had expected, it instead lazily let itself all the way out – boat speed and heel decreased dramatically as Peter also began to tame the helm, “come on guys stay on your game” was my cheesy, in the moment, interjection.
Bare-Chested Skipper
Darting onto the mainsheet we sweated the long lengths of rope back in, and on glancing at the helm again, I noticed, through the deluge of rain and torchlight, an odd figure of a naked chest, holding the helm squinting into the night (and probably my torchlight!). Ricky had been biding his time and somehow stealthily glided past me at the mainsheet, surprised Peter with a shoulder barge and taken to the wheel.
Post squall, fluky light winds preceded. I had been considering waking Ricky up after his couple of hours sleep – turns out the squall had done it for me (and I smell like rotten bananas – You leave the chart table for one minute and pesky WL Andrew sabotages it J ..anyway…!). As the squall hit, Ricky sleeping soundly had been launched out of his bunk, only to be saved from hitting the floor by the wedged open door. Arms one side, chest on the door, the rest of his body dangled vertically above the floor – that’s one way to get the skipper out of his bunk.
Peter, Tomasz, John, Hilary and Bill did a fine job in the squall and fought on bravely as I took myself soggily to bed, having enjoyed the unexpected excitement and challenge.
Unsettled thoughts of dark, powerful squalls filled my dreams, only half imagined as the next watch battled several more during the night. Waking up at the back of the boat, in torrential rain, ready to help tame Challenger 3 in yet another onslaught, I reached up to realise I was safely tucked up in my bunk… and so it goes, with delirious dreams, waking up at a change in angle or motion, voices or grinding winches, half in dreams and half out.
Sunshine now and rewarded with boat speeds of 7.5 – 10 knots in the right direction. Fingers crossed it stays… I’m going on deck to enjoy it!
Love to everyone at home x
Kirstie Skipper’s Mate Challenger 3
