08:55.826S 134:17.326W - Landlubber and the South Pacific
Irene IV - World Adventure
Louis Goor
Fri 1 Apr 2022 01:01
(Written by Nick Jarman, crew, sous chef and friendly face extraordinaire)
Not many things are truly a once in a lifetime opportunity but an offer to
cross 3200NM of the South Pacific under sail is one of them. This is not a
trip for the faint hearted or one to be undertaken lightly. Like climbing
Everest, this is something you need to build up to and requires a lifetime
of experience in offshore sailing and tinkering about in boats. Who better
then to make up the crew than someone whose entire nautical experience is
limited to a couple of hours in a Pedalo off the coast of Corfu when they
were 12? Thinking back, I don't think I even got my knot tying badge when I
was a cub scout.
My expectation was for an austere crossing with limited fresh food. We'd
live off Pot Noodles, Fray Bentos pies and student style tuna pasta meals.
The freshly baked bread, fruit salad and cheeseboard beg to differ.
Staggeringly, we've had 52 meals on this trip all of which have been
different and lovingly prepared using fresh ingredients and have tasted
delicious. I can honestly say that I've never eaten such consistently good
food for such a prolonged period. And I haven't even covered the cakes and
biscuits that are produced daily. It's no surprise then that Sabine is most
looking forward to a meal she hasn't cooked herself when we reach the
Marquesas Islands. For our part, the crew are enormously grateful for
Sabine's toil, and it has been a crucial element in making this voyage so
enjoyable. What is better than sharing great food with friends under the
stars in the South Pacific? Thank you, Sabine.
16 days into the voyage and things are now starting to make sense. Being a
sailor apparently requires you to use a completely alternative vocabulary.
Why would you want to continue to use commonly accepted land-based
nomenclature at sea when there are nautical alternatives available? I'm
sticking to my guns though and will be heading to my bedroom via the kitchen
once this is complete. My sailing ineptitude is matched by my incompetence
around machinery but fortunately I'm surrounded by people who know the ropes
(lines, sheets whatever) and I feel like I'm in very safe hands. The
engineers thrive when covered in sweat and oil and are happiest when
something breaks, and they get to take it apart. I'm starting to suspect
sabotage as a means of keeping themselves occupied as they start to get a
bit antsy if they're separated from a wrench for too long.
Before embarking my biggest concerns were being seasick and the mental
challenge of being confined to a small space for several weeks without being
able to stretch my legs. Fortunately, mal de mer never materialized and
spatial constraints seem irrelevant when sitting under the Milky Way with
thousands of miles of ocean in all directions. That said, I will certainly
be looking forward to going for a walk and seeing some green foliage when we
land. Confidence in both the boat and crew made being in one of the most
remote places on the planet feel like a privilege rather than a cause for
concern and will form one of many lifelong memories from this trip. With
just a few days to go before we reach Nuku Hiva, all of those on Irene IV
have passed individual time spent at sea milestones and all have a new time
spent on port tack record. That sounded vaguely nautical, perhaps this
sailing lark is contagious...