Are we nearly there yet Dad?

Monday morning, 07.00 getting ready for another busy day at the office. The night shift have been very productive chopping 85 nautical miles off our distance to run in the last 12 hours. Progress towards our final waypoint (vector made good to St Lucia) during the last 48 hours has been 95% of our boat speed. This is a consequence of the wind now settling in the north east allowing us to sail virtually a direct course to St Lucia.

Our current position puts us on a latitude 1 degree south of SL. We are keen to retain this distance south, so that should the wind veer more towards the east we will still be able to sail towards our destination on a broad reach rather than a dead run which will gain us valuable boat speed at this crucial stage of the “rally”.

Our current heading is 280 magnetic giving us a course over the ground of 270 true. The bearing to our destination is 275 true, so we are trading 5 degrees to maintain our southerly advantage. Our boat speed is between 8.5 and 9.5 knots in 15-20 knots of wind on a broad reach. We are experiencing a large swell from both the north and north east producing confused and choppy seas.

We have deliberated this morning about putting up our spinnaker, “big orange” as she has affectionately become known. The benefit would be a possible 1.0 to 1.5 additional knots of boat speed; the major negative would be the possibility of a broach (dramatic slew to windward). The consequences of a broach, aside from the obvious strain on the rigging, is that one spills one's tea and it seriously hacks off the chef when the gymballing stove reaches the limit of its travel with predictable results.

The challenges of handling the spinnaker in strong winds on a pitching deck also cannot be underestimated. We had some “issues” with a spinnaker retrieval yesterday during a squall, it’s rather disconcerting to see steam coming from your gloves as the sheets are running through your hands despite your best efforts to arrest their progress.

At times like this, you realise the significance of what we are doing and the serious consequences of events that would otherwise be classed as minor incidents. With 1000’s of miles distance to land in either direction, help will not be coming quickly in any event.

The Atlantic Ocean is an immense aquatic wilderness; we have had the privilege of sailing across a very small section of her and can now see by any measure, she is a colossal ocean. Her mood can change by the hour. One minute glassy smooth, deep indigo blue, gently caressing Shaya Moya’s flanks as she ghosts along. The next a boiling maelstrom of black water and hissing froth. There are obviously many facets of her personality in between these, dependant on how her mood takes her. A moment of complacency on our part, “disrespect”, will result in a clipped ear, forceful enough to make us realise what a full scale correction may feel like, something we have no wish to experience.

The Oceans love sail boats, they work in harmony with their domain and are respectful to their environment. Having spend so much time aboard Shaya Moya on this trip, you get a real sense of the synergy between the two elements, you can feel the surges and corrections through every part of her structure and only rarely will the ocean slap her for trying to take too much. As a passenger, you begin to anticipate each pitch and roll, each surge of acceleration and braking. The timing of every movement, walking across the saloon, opening doors, opening cupboards gradually becomes attuned with this rhythm.

Now we are all finally comfortable operating in our topsy turvy world, thoughts are beginning to turn to how we will cope regaining our land legs. Anyone who has spent time aboard a smaller vessel at sea will understand this phenomenon, the early days back ashore when your natural gyros are still off shore. The worst case is when you lye on the floor and still need to hold on in case you fall off!

With 815 miles to go we are speculating on our estimated time of arrival. Best guess; Friday midday. I hope our lady is happy with the respect we have shown her so far on our passage and doesn’t have anything extra special in store for us.

I have just finished writing this in time to clock on for my watch. Now we are firmly set on course, during the day, aside from fiddling with sails, the watch really only consists of “watching” Shaya Moya do her stuff, then sit back and relish every moment of this great adventure.

Thanks Fordey (and Caroline I suspect) for the fish curry recipe, Reece improvised as closely as possible last night and it was a spectacular success. Helps having fish that are caught cleaned and filleted within 3 minutes of coming out of the water, they don’t come much fresher than that.

Thanks also to Matty for the constant position updates which are far more user friendly than the ARC reports. I’d also like to give a massive thanks to all my family (especially you Lindy can’t wait to see you in St Lucia), friends and colleagues who have enabled me to do this, it is very, very much appreciated. I thought I’d practice this for the awards ceremony in St Lucia, tee hee.

All for now.

Dave …First Mate                   “Don, how far is it now?”

 Thanks for the recipe Mike