Day 7 - Off with the high horse, on with the donk
A year afloat: to the Caribbean and back
Sam and Alex Fortescue
Sat 27 Nov 2010 12:49
|
18:56.29N
022:44.06W
Even a millpond has ripples sometimes, and the odd
dangerous looking glint to it. But the Atlantic can rarely have felt as benign
as it feels this morning. It resembles a vast, cobalt blue sheet, unadorned with
wavecrests, other yachts or even the dolphins that have kept us such good
company thus far. The wind dropped to nothing during Will's watch and we wearily
untwisted the slack spinnaker at midnight, packed it away and, with regret,
fired up the donk for the first time during the voyage.
It was a heavy decision to make, especially in view
of our sniffy comments about the importance of 'sailing' during a sailing race.
But it's the fourth calm we've been enveloped in over just three days, and this
time, there seemed no prospect of the wind returning. Sure enough, 12 hours
later, there is still just 4 knots of true wind; too little to stop the sails
from flapping.
Before we switched on the engine and abandoned our
high horses, several more ARC boats passed us in the night, including Stealaway,
who had found out that they were not predicted to arrive before the new Year on
the main ARC website. As with most things in life, our time is not purely our
own - we have our own deadlines for arrival, to meet friends and family, not
least Jesse and little Tabitha who would otherwise be left in St Lucia,
literally waiting for their ship to come in.
There is a rising feeling that the winds may not
return before Tuesday next week, and that it would be wise to take on fuel in
the Cape Verdes before then and push on south. We'll see how we get on with that
- it would certainly be fun to pass within sight of the islands or even anchor
up for a relaxed night. It doesn't take much wind to convince us to turn off the
donk - in just 10 knots, we'll fizz along in any direction at 5 knots, the more
so now we have become spinnaker fanatics.
The calms are wearing on crew morale, and there is
much surreptitious whistling and scratching of backstays for wind. We pulled out
all the stops for a rousing breakfast - bacon, eggs and beans. Poor Will is
particularly motivated, having his ear right next to the engine in his stern
cabin lair - the only spot he would fit. To make matters worse he possesses just
a single earplug...
In other news, we had the chance for a swim in
4000m deep waters, with dolphins. A pod of 20 or so were darting about the bow,
when we bore up into the wind to stop, stuck out a line astern and took it in
turns to leap in for a swim. Will and the skipper were first in, while the
others stood watch. But in a similar style to our first dolphin swim, the beasts
scattered as soon as Willi 'the Whale' Bax hit the water. Not overly interested
in inter-species contact, these dolphins, unless the contact is on a predatory
basis.
Talking of predators, we polished off our second
helping of tuna fillet yesterday. It made excellent carpaccio again and some
glorious steaks for supper. The fish hunting instinct is building again, and for
the second day running, we got into a big beast with the pink squid lure. This
time, though, Graham managed to manoeuvre it to the stern - about a metre of
mahi mahi shining iridescent blue with yellow forked tail and fins. I lunged at
it with the gaff, caught it a glancing blow and dislodged it back into the
depths. Zut.
I'll leave you with some philosophy, this time from
Bosun Billy: "You don't hear much of Mauritania on the world stage," he intoned
a moment ago. Discuss... |