Raylah
Jeremy Elsom
Sun 30 Nov 2014 15:35
Massive orders for food are being placed with Cortes Englese ,the big supermarket in town and already deliveries to the pontoons are evident in the form of large pyramids of water and beer at the back of the boats. Cardboard is being stripped off to avoid cockroaches being brought on board and fruit is being washed in a bleach solution to be hung in nets from the cabin roof.
In the big chanderlers like Roll Nautique a current of money is flowing across the counters driven by the paranoia of first time skippers wanting to have all the right equipment. Customers take there ticket from the dispenser and wait in the line (except certain nations) , a man holds an engine part, another a wind generator, and a third needs a new liferaft as he has failed a safety check . Diesel cans are being bought by the hundred to be lashed on deck just in case the wind dies. This mass purchasing goes on right up to the Sunday lunch start and Boat electricians, mechanics and riggers are like gold dust and can name there price.
The first time crews are enjoying themselves buying ARC tee shirts ,going to the sponsors parties and the ARC lectures at the faded grander of The St Catalina Hotel .But for the Skippers and the old timers their focus is on the weather ,what Fronts are building,will the winds be better on the southern or northern routes, will there be many squalls . But as the start day approaches the weather starts going down hill. The wind starts driving in to the sea front, torrential rain is falling, boats surge up and down on there moorings and the boat next to us breaks free and its all up on deck at 3am with ropes in hand and wet to the skin.
Finally the start day arrives, it has been howling in the rigging all night and nobody has slept well and everybody is wondering what it will be like out in the Atlantic. A rumour goes round that gusts of 70 KPH have been recorded out at the airport. Then the morning ARC broadcast announces a 24 Hour delay for the start and even above the howl of the wind I am sure I can hear the collective sigh of relief from the boats.
On Monday morning the wind has moderated ,three bands are playing, the flags are flying and a big crowd has gathered on the front and out on the break water. The boats leave there births and pirouette in the harbour waiting to join the much photographed procession leaving for the start line. The count down over the radio begins and suddenly we are off. By this time tomorrow all the boats in the fleet will have disappeared and it will just be us alone on the ocean with three weeks to cross the vast Atlantic to St Lucia in the Caribbean.
TBC