Mon 10 Dec 2007 10:01
Blood, well a bit on my second toe of my right foot, when the weather is
rough we put a washboard in the companionway to stop any water getting
into the cabin. This board requires that you step over it by raising your
foot about eight inches higher than if it weren’t there, despite the board
being in place for the last week, I still stump my toe at least once a
day. Tonight, as I came sleepily on watch, I did it again and have drawn
blood, not much blood, just enough to work its way around the nail; but
that’s my point, without wishing to tempt fate, we have (touch wood) been
fairing remarkably well and suffered no major accidents or breakages to
either ourselves or the boat (although my ipod has gone west! Well down
the back of one of the cupboards actually.) We must remember that all
around us many of the yachts are suffering breakages and even abandonment
or sinking. Mikes insistence that, above all else, we must arrive safe and
in good shape, has sometimes meant that we are progressing slightly more
slowly than us racers on board might instinctively want, however as more
news of boats in trouble filter through on the arc email, it seems that he
has judged this on perfectly.
A few weeks ago I was sitting on a roller coaster with my kids, two
minutes into a three minute ride and I’d had enough, I used to love them
but now they are to be endured. Now our roller coaster rides out here last
for hours if not days. Everybody who does the Atlantic will tell you that
the rolling is intolerable, because the wind is behind the boat, the sails
do not have a steadying effect and the rolling is unhindered. We are
constantly bouncing off parts of the boat as we move clumsily about and if
we drop our guard when sitting in the cockpit and forget to hang on we get
dumped on the floor or onto the seat opposite. I entered the cockpit
yesterday to see Mike sitting on Charlie’s lap, I think he’s missing
Sarah! Our washing up liquid has become air-entrained, not frothy, more
like the inside of a lime flavoured aero bar, quite a pleasant thought. I
suspect that if my stomach was see through like the washing up bottle,
then you would see a similarly air entrained contents, though less
pleasant. I’m not about to prove my theory though, don’t go logging on
tomorrow thinking ‘I wonder how Marks getting on with installing a vision
panel into his stomach?’ It’s not going to happen.
Day is breaking now, Monday, the beginning of our last week. Our ETA is a
constant topic of conversation, calculation and recalculation to the point
of tedium. Latest thoughts are Friday evening, but we are in the hands of
weather. That’s the thing about journeys; as soon as you start, you a
focused on finishing, despite all our discussions about being determined
to remember to enjoy ourselves and ‘seizing the day’ we have become
preoccupied by the finish line. I suspect the real appreciation of this
trip will gradually filter into our sub conscious days and weeks after we
are back home and benefited from a few good nights sleep. Similarly, there
is no doubt that the three of us will become better people from this
experience, but again the benefits of this will not be immediately
apparent. Not until we’ve had a good shower any way.