The ARC race
Persephone... Cruiser/Racer
Nigel & Karen Goodhew...
Thu 20 Dec 2012 22:21
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Hello everyone,
We apologise for the delay in getting the update
for the ARC itself posted....that is partially to do with the conditions
we encountered during the race and partly to do with settling into a St
Lucian lifestyle now that we are safely across and basking in Caribbean December
sunshine.
The racing divisions of the ARC, of which
Persephone was the smallest, left Gran Canaria as planned on Nigels birthday,
the 25th November. However, the organisers offered the cruising divisions the
option either to start on the 25th or to delay a couple of days and take part in
a second start on the Tuesday 27th November.
The backgrouund to this decision was a weather
system which promised strong headwinds for a couple of days and so a majority of
the fleet opted to delay.
We set off as planned, starting in almost no wind,
and hunting offshore for some of the forecast strong south westerly breeze which
was promised. Even the much discussed acceleration zone around the east side of
Gran Canaria delivered little in the way of extra pressure and as night
fell on the first afternoon's sailing, we were slowly edging west, in building
wind.
The conditions steadily increased until we
had 25 to 30 knots of breeze and the Atlantic seas to go with the wind strength.
At that stage our satphone was working and we were in touch with Nick Gale and
Phil Meakins from the Sigma fleet at home, discussing weather routing
decisions by email. Essentially we were waiting for the wind to veer as a
frontal system passed overhead and would take advantage from the new wind
direction to sail the direct great circle route to St Lucia. Happy
days!
However, fronts like that bring rain and gusts, and
the period before it passed over us was one in which we sailed valiantly on into
an increasingly confused sea state, with larger and larger waves. We
estimated these to build to around 6m by Monday night.
Karen was very seasick and was unable to make much
of a contribution to life on board for monday,, Tuesday and Wednesday, so the
remaining crew split into 2 watches and held 4 hourly watches round the clock to
keep us moving at maximum speed. We were wet, very wet, and were dressed in full
foul weather gear for much of the first week at sea. After the front came
through on Wednesday and we sped off along the rhumb line, we had fleeting
glimpses of the sailing conditions we had all signed up for...and it grew hotter
as we strayed south - eventually hot enough to forget the oilies and start
sailing in shorts and tee shirts.
After several days, we settled into what we thought
might be trade wind conditions, and the waves calmed down a little so we thought
we would try the autopilot. This was a boon, enabling the watch keepers to
indulge in alternative sailing pursuits rather than focus on steering the
correct course. Then the pilot let us down. The first issue arose when the "off
course" alarm sounded as we fell off aa large wave and Nigel leapt across
the boat to assume control, but not before Persephone accidentally gybed,
trapping him under the mainsheet. That mess was sorted out and he suffered a few
grazes, burns and bruises.
In another wave related incident, the boom swung
across and broke our starboard running backstay...a first chapter of a story
which would play out to a conclusion much later on in our passage.
There were rain squalls too, very wet and windy,
during which we all managed to have cockpit showers at various points along the
way. After another couple of days, the pilot started to make horrible noises,
signalling it's ultimate demise, and we and steered again from the mid point,
all the way to the finish.
So the end of the first week and much of the second
week at sea, was dominated by making progress towards an imaginary waypoint
offered to us by Phil Meakins, as a best course to follow while the weather
systems in the mid Atlantic region,, sorted themselves out. And then we
lost our comms. The satphone decided not to play at all. We tried and tried to
send and receive emails but simply could not get a signal from the darned thing.
Hours were spent, inspecting the connections, speculating on the way the machine
works, guessing what might have happened to the satellites themselves...none of
which added an ounce of speed to our boat! It was hugely disappointing and very
distracting.
Eventually, resigned to the fact that we were
carrying a piece of 21st century junk, we switched the thing off and started to
concentrate on sailing the old fashioned way, using weather forecasts self
generated from the barometer and the cloud patterns we could see.
As we approached the Meakins waypoint, Nigel
decided to save a few miles and divert a little further north, finding a new
great circle route to St Lucia. We had a half day of lighter winds before the
real trade winds kicked in again, and off we went once more. So the third and
final phase of the crossing became apparent to us. There was a distinct weather
pattern which presented itself each day;-
After a crystal clear starry night, the mornings
would dawn with a cloudy scene, and squalls would occasionally overtake us. The
afternoon would be steadily clearing with white fluffy cumulous clouds scudding
across a hot blue sky. Evenings brought angry anvils of rain in squalls, before
the whole cycle repeated itself the next day. Day after day.
By this time too, we had another dimension to take
into account. Sailing fast is about managing risks. And managing risks is a delicate art when you are outside the
reach of emergency help. Pushing the boat and the crew as hard as possible,
while avoiding breakages, and maintaining morale, gettting enough sleep and
extracting sufficient enjoyment from the whole enterprise were some of the
variables we were playing with.
Our weather routing came into the equation too, as
we did not need to find the route with the most wind, as we found we had enough
power in around 20 knots of breeze, to meet our requirements....moving at hull
speed.
As the race came to a head, and we entered the last
800 miles or so, the additional component of the moon came into play. The moon
had been big, bright and beautiful at the start of the race. We joked of
moonbathing by night, so bright was the night. however as with the natural order
of these things, each night brought a smaller moon, and as we travelled west,
the moon rose later and later until by 10th December, the little sliver of moon
was rising for us at dawn. This gave us a succession of very dark nights to
sail, so dark in fact, that we were unable to see the mountainous seas around
us, and much of the surfing down waves was acheived entirely by feel. These
conditions were exacerbated to some extent, by the reluctance of our solar
powered wind instruments to offer us any data by night, so the sailing was very
much dinghy style, with eyes darting from the limited offering at sea level, to
the mast head windex, illuminated by our mast top navigation light.
As we found the final gybe point just eastt of
Martinique, and flew the spinnaker on the Tuesday morning, the 11th December,
some of our mobile phones started to get messages and we realised that we were
very close to Selene, the Swan 44, on handicap...we all worked extra hard to get
that last ounce of pace out of Persephone. Sailing up to squalls to get the
additional pressure and dropping and re hoisting the spinnaker to keep
safe.
Our finish, at 19:49 UTC was around 15:50 local
time in St Lucia and we were greeted by a welcome party, bearing fruits and rum
punch, amid a tropical downpoor which rinsed the salt off the good ship
Persephone.
All crew are well and delighted to arrive in St
Lucia. The passage was fast and furious and far from the classic trade wind
experience we had all expected, but we are delighted with our racing result, and
to arrive as the 50th boat in Rodney Bay.
Now the cruising life starts again in
ernest....
-n
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