The there were four... and a half

A year afloat: to the Caribbean and back
Sam and Alex Fortescue
Sat 20 Nov 2010 10:30
The crew has mustered, the sherry is stowed and the sails are back onboard. In other words, we're ready to be off. Will arrived on Wednesday in time to hit the main ARC party of the fortnight, dressed in what is fast becoming his trademark Hawaiian shirt. We've all been fearsomely busy stowing, figuring out last minute amendments to safety systems and trying to make things a bit more comfortable down below.
 
Will has happily taken to the stern cabin, like a grass snake to a mouse hole. He is able to arrange himself such that his toes barely protrude from the bottom of the berth. He is also probably the best insulated, tucked beneath the cockpit. Graham has taken up residence on the main saloon, in the berth over the second water tank. Being a very full but flexible tank, this bunk has been transformed into something of a water bed, wobbling about on top of 100 litres of grade A desalinated seawater.
 
Alex and I are sticking with the fo'c'sle in a move that has shocked our French neighbours. Not only do they predict grave discomfort as we pitch to and fro in the swell, but they warn that putting so much weight at the front of the boat will slow us down. If we were all to hot bed in the cockpit, we could probably shave minutes off our total crossing time.
 
The somewhat errant sailmaker has finally returned our bimini frame, which now needs fixing to the cockpit. This crucial bit of kit is designed to string canvas from, to shade the cockpit and prevent us all from overheating. We will still burn from all the reflected rays, but at least we won't all go mad after ten days with the heat beating down on our heads - Graham is particularly susceptible to this, but once scurvy sets in halfway across and we all begin losing hair, we'll all be at risk...
 
We haven't yet been told where the start line is, but it seems likely to be a melee due to forecast very light winds. It'll be 9 knots, gusting 10 knots tomorrow, falling gently away over the next week. there is little danger of a repeat of last year's very rapid ARC. I've been speculating about activities to keep us amused if we have to spend time bobbing around waiting for wind. I thought a three mile fishing line for jigging mid Atlantic could be fun - I've never tasted Angler fish. Failing that, we could ship some more matchsticks to get a serious poker circle going.
 
We had a blow out supper with Mission Control last night in the rather swanky surroundings of the Real Club Nautico - a sailing club on the harbour wall. We took the waiter's recommendation to get into the catch of the day, which turned out to be a fearsomely-toothed, but excellently flavoured local beast.
 
I suppose I should get back to the pontoon, where we should now have taken delivery of a month's worth of bananas, tomatoes and cabbages. Alex had to order from the greengrocer in Spanish, so it will be interesting to see whether her recollection of food terms from Spanish lessons 15 years ago matches up with reality.