Posts filed under 'Race'
It’s official. I’m back. Actually I got back on Monday but have been dealing with groundrush ever since. Stepping off a plane and into the arms of one long suffering husband and two small boys very happy to have their mummy back, I can honestly say that it was lovely to get home (the welcome home poster complete with pictures of flying fish was the icing on the cake). Since then it’s been straight back to situation normal. Day 1 at home saw me:
- cook three meals
- do four loads of laundry
- pack the dishwasher twice
- pick up three bags full of fallen walnuts
- winterise the swimming pool
- fix a broken toilet (with the help of a DIY guide on the internet)
- play about 15 games of snakes and ladders
- play a hotly contested game of football
- go to the park and push swings for ages
- play hide and seek
- delete over 1000 emails
- sift through mail to find most pressing bills
- handle a new business request
- book in some builders
- and chat to some family and friends
But despite really needing a week off to sort out my life AND a week just being with the boys, I feel as though I’ve got plenty of energy to tackle it all. The household chores that used to depress me (and no doubt will again soon) for now feel like a breeze in contrast to scrubbing out bilges and being on watch every night.
The boys have managed without me better than I could have expected and my husband hasn’t turned into a raging alcoholic. So all is well. When I asked my children what they liked best about me being home, they said: “Getting real kisses and cuddles” (rather than the kisses I blew them from the sea). The perfect homecoming present.
And when I asked them if I should ever go sailing again - expecting a loud NO from them - I got instead the considered response of: “Yes, as long as you take us. Maybe we could all sail around the world together!” I’m very pleased that the spirit of adventure has been well and truly seeded in their young minds.
So where to start on the mad sailing adventure? Firstly, thanks to everyone who commented on my blog while I was away. I sent short snippets home via email to my husband who passed them onto Rachel, the lovely lady helping me with admin in my absence and she posted them. But I had no way of checking comments.
I don’t have time now to write a full account of everything that went on - and I’m on a time ration as the boys are currently glued to the telly that will be going off shortly. But I will write follow up posts about how it all went.
Suffice to say that it was brilliant. Not the scary, challenging sailing as advertised on the brochure, but that was largely due to us having incredibly fair weather all the way. It was extraordinarily hot and all the little things that we take for granted in life were a lot more difficult. Like going to the loo, having a shower, washing clothes, washing dishes, cooking, climbing into bed, getting changed, standing upright…I could go on. But all that work and the extreme heat (i.e. excessive sweating) has seen me lose a stone in weight. Hooray! And it has made the household chores seem truly easy peasy.
There were many moments during the trip where I wondered why I was doing it, but there were even more moments where I was in tears at the sheer magnificence of it all. I cannot (in my current sleep deprived state) hope to describe the wonder of the night sky, the sheer awesomeness of an orange setting sun melting into the sea or the grace of enormous whales as they crash out of the ocean and back into it.
The crew on board were fantastic. Many a night was spent solving the world’s problems, discussing deep and personal things that seldom get an airing, laughing hard and being silly.
I kept waiting for the bolt of insight lightening that was going to give me the direction or profound understanding that I thought I might have, being so far removed from my normal life. But it never arrived. As we approached Sugar Loaf Mountain in Rio, I realised that the lesson learned from the whole experience was simple: that life is there to be lived. I know that life with all it’s day to day humdrum and work craziness will go on. But I have resolved to quite simply have more fun. And if that’s as basic as cranking the radio up louder while folding the laundry, so be it.
I’ll be back with more details of the trip once the dust has settled.
Tags: home, life, rio
October 28th, 2009
Yesterday, with much excitement, I drove to Portsmouth’s historic dockyard for the long awaited Crew Allocation Day - the day we find out which boat we’re on.
The vast majority of the people taking part in the race came along (those who live in Australia probably didn’t make it as it’s a bit of a commute for a day). And it was fab to see all the people that we’d gotten to know during part A and part B training.
It started out with individual crew pictures being taken, before being issued with our branded jackets (now I look a real pro) and then milling about in nervous anticipation while we waited for the presentations to start.
We had a number of the sponsors, organisers and partners talking to us, with the highlight being a talk by Sir Robin Knox-Johnston. He reinforced why doing this race is such an incredible thing to do. (Do you know that more people have climbed Everest than have circumnavigated the globe?). He ended it by saying that there were two things he wanted to hear from us when we completed our trip: 1) “That was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life” and 2) “So far…”. I’m certain that I will be saying those things.
We then got to see all the places that the boats are going - including confirmation that we’ll be stopping in Rio, right at the heart of it and it looks amazing. Yay! Looking at all of the places the boats visit and the incredible welcomes you get at all the stopovers made me long to do the whole thing.
It was all just so inspiring and the combination of nerves and excitement just about had me peeing in my pants (partly due to having had too much coffee and no toilet break).
They finally got to the part we were all waiting for - crew allocation. Each of the skippers read out the names of their crew members. I had asked to be with Chris Stanmore-Major as he’d been my skipper on Part A & B. Mine was the last name he called out. I had almost passed out in anticipation by then. So it’s official - I’ll be sailing on the Qingdao boat. Hip hip hooray! You can see our official Qingdao website here. Click on the crew profiles and you’ll see my name listed. Soon it will also have our photographs and info about us. On the subject of websites, they confirmed that when the race is on, there will be live updates where you can track the boats and where they are. So if you’re interested, you can see how I’m doing. According to my 5 year old we have to win. So hopefully we’ll be the boat in the front.
After chatting as a group for a few hours, making plans about the months ahead, we got to go down to the pontoon at Gunwharf Quays and officially name our boat which had just been delivered with its gorgeous dragon painted on the side. Naming a Chinese boat involves painting a red dot on the front of the boat to ‘open the dragon’s eye’ which apparently helps the dragon see where it’s going and will get us there safely.
The Chinese dignitaries were there to share champagne with us and they were incredibly friendly and fun - despite the need for translators. They gave a good indication of how brilliant they’d be as hosts in Qingdao itself.
We felt like mini celebs with all the passers-by on the quay watching as we had countless pictures taken, all while drinking too much champagne in the sun.
After a massive group picture of all the crew (300-odd), we headed off to Tiger Tiger for a night of extensive wine drinking in the name of team bonding.
All in all, it was fab. Fab, fab, fab.
BUT… and there had to be a but…I now so desperately want to sail leg 4 - the one that goes from Australia, via Singapore to China - that I can think of little else.
I’m not even sure if there’s still a space left on the leg, but even if there is, I’d need to find another £4600 for the leg plus another £2500 for the nanny and I’d have to pay for two more flights and there’s the small issue of work. It all seems impossible. But then again, this whole race seemed impossible in January.
So why the need to do leg 4? The first part is terrific sailing up to Singapore around places like Bali and the Indonesian islands. How gorgeous would that be? The reception at Singapore is meant to be awesome with spectacular displays. Then it’s some very, very tough sailing up to China in what is described as the bumpiest seas on the race (this bit doesn’t fill me with massive excitement) but then we - the home boat - arrive in Qingdao (where the Beijing olympics sailing events were held).
The reception for all the boats in China is HUGE. But for the Qingdao boat it is even more incredible. They have 100s of thousands of people turning out to see the boats and the skippers and crew are treated like celebrities. The shows they put on look mind boggling and the hospitality second to none. And to sail into the city on a boat bearing that city’s name would I think be one of the most moving experiences of all.
I was so envious of the people doing this leg and in particular, the round the worlders. As a mother, I am used to having my freedom curtailed. I know that you don’t leave the house with just your keys - you’re always carrying several bags containing clothes changes, snacks and toys. You can’t just pop off to the pub when you fancy it or have a lie in on Sundays or enjoy the evening sunset because it clashes with bath and bedtime.
I’m used to all these restrictions on my freedom. But I’ve never felt my lack of freedom quite so acutely as I do now.
There are many people doing the whole race who can do it because they have no husbands, wives or children. They have no mortgage or can rent out their property. They’ve been granted sabbaticals from work, have been made redundant, are quitting or retired. They’ve got the money from friends, family, work, savings or redundancy pay outs. They are entirely free to hop on a boat and just live the experience.
I am trying to do this within the confines of my life. And while I wouldn’t for a moment not want to have my husband and children and life, the other sailors’ freedom to roam makes me want to weep.
I should simply be grateful that I’m getting to do part of it, but if there was a magic wand I could wave to allow me to do leg 4, I’d wave it. I think I might need to see if I can find a local Chinese company who’d like to sponsor me. Perhaps the local Chinese restaurant in Newbury? We buy enough crispy duck pancakes from them to justify it….
Tags: crew allocation, gunwharf quays, historic dockyard, portsmouth, Qingdao
May 31st, 2009
Tomorrow it is exactly six months until I’ll be doing this:
Now see why I want to do it?
Tags: sailing
March 12th, 2009
It came in today’s post with a satisfying thunk through the door. It contained a letter saying that my application was successful and that I’ve been offered a berth on the race. It also had a long contract outlining just how much it’s going to cost me, my commitments and many other scary things. So I promptly signed it, enclosed a cheque for £500 and posted it before I could change my mind.
The deed is done. GULP. There is no going back now.
I now wait to hear back from the training officer to tell me dates when I can go freeze my bits off in the seas surrounding the UK and the marketing team to give me guidelines about sponsorship and raising funds. This is why my new race dedicated blog is not yet created - I don’t want make something only to find out I’ve violated ten different rules.
But there you go. It has taken just 20 days for me to see an ad in the paper to being a fully signed up crew member. I feel just a leeetle bit ill when I think about all the ramifications, workload, emotional turmoil this is going to cause. But you know what, 2009 just got very interesting.
And this afternoon was a case in point about why working my butt off on a boat for five weeks can sound appealing. I had to go into town to:
a) deposit cheques
b) see a bank manager
c) buy envelopes
d) put two letters into the envelopes and post them
e) return library books and get new ones
How hard could this be? Apparently, very. Both boys left school hating the world and me in particular. Going to town was boring, boring, boring. They didn’t want to go, despite me promising hot chocolate at Costa Coffee. (To be honest, I didn’t want them to go either but I didn’t have too much choice in the matter.) They whinged all the way there. Then they wailed and shouted and stropped and stamped their way to the bank, so much so that people either stopped and stared at us or gave us a very wide berth.
Once in the bank, they proceeded to let everyone know just how much they hated stupid banks and quite how boring they are. They wailed their way across the street to WH Smiths, until they saw the sweets and crisps inside. They then switched to full volume nag culminating in son1 standing with his hands on his hips yelling: “UNLESS YOU GET ME THESE CRISPS I’M NOT LEAVING THE SHOP”.
You could see everyone looking to see what I was going to do. Was I going to give in to this tantrum and prove just how spoilt these little beasts were OR was I going to do what the WH Smith staff certainly wanted which was to buy the crisps and get our noisy selves the hell out of their shop. I opted for the latter just to buy me mileage to get to the post office. We finally got to Costa Coffee and the boys got their hot chocolate. They sat their happily crunching their quavers until they noticed that there were no marshmallows with their hot chocolate. Cue the next outburst. Son1 then said that he really was still hungry - which is normally true as school apparently burns a billion calories a day.
So I went and bought a bag of mini muffins in my bid to encourage healthy eating. Son 1 ate three in quick succession. Son 2 finally tried one, spat it out and yelled: “This is disgusting! I WANT SOMETHING ELSE!” I said no. Our difference of opinion ended with me trying to carry a small beast dripping hot chocolate, kicking and screaming all the way out.
We finally got to the library and every book I chose was “stupid”. I gave up the fight, let them choose an assortment of crappy books and left. Supper has been ignored despite wails that they were so starving they might die within minutes. And I am having to type this to the background strains of Wall.E, another demand in the libary that I was too tired to fight (tantrums in WH Smith are one thing, in a library with everyone saying Sssh is quite another stress level). I can’t possibly go to my study as the film is too scary, but they won’t let me turn it off.
So this is why facing gales and high seas seems a breeze in comparison to my normal life.
Tags: application
February 15th, 2009
