Posts filed under 'Logistics'
In one month and three days time I will be setting sail from Hull as the start of this crazy challenge begins. Where the hell has this year gone? It seems like just the other day I was driving through a blizzard to get to the interview, and now here we are, in the final countdown.
I spent the weekend in Cowes, enjoying the tail end of Cowes Week and the start of the Fastnet race. We watched lots of boats out sailing and even more seriously yachty types strut their nautical stripes down the parade. Not to mention the fireworks and the Red Arrows who put on a spectacular display.
And I got really excited - we’re going to have the Red Arrows at our race start too. Seeing all the spectator boats heading out with the yachts as they set sail for the Fastnet race just gave me butterflies in my tummy, knowing that very soon we’ll be sailing out with just as many spectator boats following us, cheering us on and sending us on our way.
But before then, I have a little more work to do. Tomorrow I face the last of my big training weeks. Unfortunately, this one doesn’t involve being on a boat. It’s one solid week of sitting in a classroom learning about navigation and meteorology. In preparation for this ‘intensive and challenging’ week (as it’s been described) I’m supposed to have learnt all the International Collision Regulations. I haven’t. I’ve tried. I keep falling asleep.
In case you aren’t a mariner and aren’t familiar with these, its just under 40 rules (and their related appendices) that are roughly equivalent to the Highway Code (for boats). It is death by legalese.
It tells you how to not play chicken with a container ship when you’re in a small sailboat. And who has the right of way (not that you’re going to care once you’ve been mown down by a cruise liner). And it has a thoroughly scintillating section on what lights you need to display at sea, including diagrams of black background with tiny dots of colour. You need to guess what the vessel is by the lights on display.
So you can imagine how the time is going to fly…We also have to work out tides and compass bearings. You know, like those delightful sums you got in school: train A travels at 10mph from the west and train B travel 23mph from the north. At approximately what time will they arrive in Devon? (much like the questions from Dame Slap’s school in the Faraway Tree books).
I just know they’re going to ask me to figure out how to get the boat from point A to point B taking tide and winds and international shipping lanes into account. And I know I’m going to be pants-tastic. Because I don’t do maths. My brain doesn’t work that way. I am going to be the obligatory dunce in the class.
I know that I have questioned my ability to do many of the things on this race, which I have since realised I am quite capable of doing, as long as I give it a shot. I’m hoping that this will hold true for this week, but I have a sneaking suspicion that this time I’ll have met my ability match. I am almost certainly going to come away with a headache and an F on my exam. But let’s be positive. You never know, I might pass. And I might just manage to help us avoid hitting any ships while at sea. Which would be handy.
And after this week of learning, we still need to sort out the food issue. Thanks to everyone who contributed ideas for our meal planning. I think we’re getting there, although we’re still over budget. I fear an even greater number of beans might be called for to balance the books. The doldrums will be of no consequence to us given the amount of wind we as a crew will be able to generate ourselves.
Then there’s still some media training to be done as I’ve offered my services as a boat media person. I should be helping out on the boat during prep week but not sure how with kids in tow. Then the mad rush to hold a birthday party for my four year old, organise the house/business, buy all the last minute things I need before heading off to Hull for all the festivities there.
So much like the rest of the year, this last month is no quieter. I feel I might like a rest when I get home from Brazil.
I’ll report back with a swollen brain in a week’s time.
Tags: cowes, Fastnet, meteorology, navigation, Training
August 10th, 2009
So you know your normal weekly grocery shop? The one where you write a list but leave it at home accidentally and forget your bags and have the kids with you nagging for comics and it costs you double what you think because you haven’t planned meals and have fallen victim to every two-for-one offer there is? It’s not a barrell of laughs is it?
Or perhaps you are a meal planner. Perhaps you cleverly think out what you’re going to make each day and how you’ll use the leftovers in the next meal. And you save yourself a good wodge of money. But it’s still exhausting and by Friday you’ve given up and get a curry take out anyway.
Well try this.
Planning the meals for 18 people. Breakfast. Lunch. Supper. Snacks. FOR 31 DAYS.
These 18 people will be burning through roughly 5000 calories each, every day. They need energy. These meals will need to be made on a tiny camping size stove that will swing wildly as the boat it’s on crashes over waves. It’s impossible to fit more than one pot on it at a time. You also need to use a stove ring to boil water as there isn’t any hot water for washing up. The oven is too hot at the back and not hot enough at the front, making cooking anything in it an interesting juggling act.
These meals cannot include any ingredients that need to be refrigerated. So that rules out fresh meats, fresh vegetables (bar a few that have good staying power) and dairy. Because there isn’t a fridge. And it’s not like it’s cool on a fibreglass boat in the tropics, so things don’t exactly last. Which means we’re dependent on tins and long life stuff.
You need to take into account allergies, dietary preferences like vegetarianism, religious food restrictions and general fussiness.
And just when you cooking/shopping planners par excellence start rifling through your survival cook books ready to prove to me how easy it all is, let me present you with our budget:
£3.50 per person per day. Yes folks. That’s £3.50 for breakfast, lunch, dinner, drinks and snacks. I do believe that prisoners get a bigger budget than that for their daily meal intake. And they aren’t paying all their earnings for the priviledge.
I am one of three people on the victualling team. The team who decides what everyone is going to eat everyday. Meals have to be planned down to the very last ingredient because their aren’t many M&S Simply Foods in the Atlantic. Day bags need to be made up of the ingredients for every meal in a given day. Tins need to have labels removed and their contents written on in permanent marker as labels at sea just fall off.
Until now I’ve been a spectator rather than an actively involved person because I don’t have enough hours in the day. However, today I headed off to Costco (with children - joy!) to do an initial reckie on pricing and what’s available.
We’re screwed.
I’d like to say that it’s beans on toast for 31 days, only that requires bread and a toaster, neither of which we’ll have. We will have a bread oven, but we need some recipes to make bread simply. And we won’t have butter. Because obviously that requires a fridge, so no bread and butter either.
So I challenge all of you to share your best long life recipes with me. They need to fit the criteria outlined above. I’m particularly interested in:
- Desserts with tinned fruit that don’t require butter or too many eggs (as we’ll have to use powdered eggs). For example: Crumble without butter. how?
- Baked goods that don’t require butter or eggs
- Things to do with lentils. That blokes will want to eat.
- Your best bread recipes that are simple and fool-proof
- Any tinned items you’ve discovered that are the dogs hairy bollocks (rather than actual dogs hairy bollocks) which you’d like to recommend
And just for a final twist, we must be able to replicate these recipes with ingredients purchased in countries across the world where the language on the labels isn’t necessarily English.
Crack on and blind me with your brilliance please.
Tags: food, long life, shopping, victualling
August 4th, 2009
Since posting a couple of weeks back about getting assigned to our boats, things have been storming ahead. Our team pic is now finally up on the site - this is it:
I am the one at the far right of the row of people sitting, am just above the dragon’s eye with my lily white legs on display. They’ve not got our individual pics up yet. Still waiting for that excitement.
But our crew forums are now live which means we can chat to our fellow crew members and discuss important things like:
- Crew song: obviously something to buoy us up while being uber cool at the same time. We’ve chosen one. I can’t possibly tell you what it is just in case some other boats start sniffing round this blog.
- Crew attire: we were all getting worked up about what to wear but apparently our sponsors are sorting us out with something fetching. And we’re pretty keen on some Chinese style bandanas so that our hair is kept out of our faces and we look like we can karate chop the opposition. I feel the expression: ‘I’m going to Jackie Chan your ass’ might be bandied about a lot.
-Crew get together: because our weekends and lives are not quite busy enough, we’re trying to pin down a date when we can get together (not on a boat) to bond. This will involve something cheap and probably as uncomfortable as being on a boat. Logistically it’s a bit of a nightmare to organise but we do all need to find out just how annoying we are before we’re confined to a 68 foot long space for 5 weeks (10 months for around the worlders).
- Crew funds: what we need to buy for our boat that will make life a bit more luxurious. No, probably not a cocktail shaker. Sadly. But possibly a table we can eat off of. You know, the important stuff.
- Crew food: For some reason, I’ve volunteered myself for victualling. This is a job that means you have to plan what 18 people will eat, three meals a day plus snacks for 5 weeks, taking into account vegetarianism, allergies, fussiness, religious food issues and the fact that there’s no fridge. So that should be easy. 50 ways with spam. I foresee a future best selling cookery book coming out…
I’ve also booked a hotel room for my husband, mother in law and children in Hull so that they can come and see me off at the start. It’s a bit of a gamble. The kids might freak out. But hopefully with daddy and granny there to distract them with the promise of ice cream, me departing over an ocean won’t even feature. And I think it’s important for them to be part of it. Of course I’ll be wearing a stoic smile before going down below to sob.
I’m also starting to look into flights back from Rio and am so, so, so tempted to say to hell with credit card debt and living on beans for the next year, let’s just fly my husband and boys out to Rio so that they can meet me and we can all have a well deserved holiday. HOWEVER, financially this might just be impossible. In fact it’s very impossible. But it’s nice to dream.
I’ve been reading up on sail rig and tuning, you know before bed. Talk about a passion killer. I’ve asked to be in the Pit on the boat which is where all the ropes come in and you need to be Little Miss Efficient. However, if I don’t get that job, I’ve asked to be a trimmer of headsails, mainsail or spinnaker. All of which require some know how. It is brain achingly complicated involving diagrams with lots of squiggly arrows, but hopefully it will all make sense in time.
I’ve been putting plans into place so that my business not only runs smoothly while I’m gone, it runs even better than normal! Hoorah.
I’ve been confirming nannies and cover for various bits that I’m away. And I’ve been trying to get all the kit I need to buy but my man what does discounts isn’t coming back to me. I might have to hunt him down and beat him with a shitty stick.
And lastly, I’ve been trying desperately to organise my final fund raising event - a tea party with auction. However, due to low numbers of attendees and a clashing school fund raiser, I’ve now binned the idea. Instead I will hopefully very soon be unveiling an online auction of the prizes from this very blog. So when I do, please spread the word and tell friends to place bids.
So not much on then. Will be back soon. For now, I need to start reading up on meteorology…
Tags: Clipper, fund-raising, planning, Qingdao
June 17th, 2009
So apparently fund raising is hard work. Who knew? Well I suppose those good folk who stand outside shops shaking tins for needy causes knew.
My sale wasn’t an unmitigated disaster. We had a hall full of lovely stuff. We had a full staff complement of mums desperate to sell their loot. We had me live on local radio espousing the virtues of our wares. We just didn’t get any punters through the doors.
A hall full of stuff to be sold
Lots of lovely toys
That’s not strictly true. We had some. We made a bit of money. But only just enough for me to just cover my costs. It was soul destoying. Which is why it’s taken me all week to write this post. That and the fact that I’ve had so much work to do this week I wanted to weep.
But with mountains of beautifully ironed, sorted and labelled kids stuff, we are not going to sit idly by. No, we have already arranged SALE TAKE 2 for next Saturday (23 May in case you’re looking for a bargain). We’re holding it in a busier traffic area where there are likely to be far more people who might value the bargains to be had.
The lovely mummies helping me with the sale have been shiny stars and have all been helping out hugely with publicising this sale as I’ve simply not had the time to drive around sticking up posters again.
Some of the lovely mums helping me out
However, this weekend I will get to paint an enormous sheet which we can hang up out the sale to attract passers-by. Here’s hoping we have queues of people fighting over babygros because if not, I will resign myself to the fact that I shall have baby stuff forever and might even be forced to have a third child just to get my money’s worth. Or not. Almost definitely not.
This has meant that I’ve had to push my Ladies Tea Party fundraiser back by two weeks and am currently trying to figure out some complicated technology that will allow me to sell tickets automatically from this blog. But I fear this is a bridge to far for my overcrowded brain.
Meanwhile, almost daily there seem to be emails from the Clipper team advertising new and exciting courses I can take like sea survival (how to pray hard when your boat sinks and you’re forced into a life raft), first aid (how to create a leg split from a spinnaker pole and a piece of rope) and VHF communications (so that in future when I’m talking to someone on the phone I can sign off by saying things like Oscar Bravo Charlie Over).
I want to do these courses. I don’t know why. I don’t have the time to fit them in. And they cost more money. And I’m only doing one leg. Sure it might be the leg when someone suffers concussion, we all sink and must call for help before we do so. But I’m hoping not. It just feels that if I’m doing this, I might as well push the boat out (excuse the pun) and do it all. If I get all these certificates it goes a good way to allowing me to commandeer a cruiseliner and head for the Caribbean when I can spend the rest of my days drinking daiquiries. A new career so to speak.
Speaking of careers, I’d better get back to my current one. I will report back hopefully soon with tales of pockets full of gold.
Tags: baby stuff, courses, fund-raising, sale
May 15th, 2009
‘My bags are packed and I’m ready to go….’ Actually they’re not and I’m nowhere near ready to head off on training part B on Sunday afternoon. Between now and then I have to:
- pack in a huge amount of client work (like a month’s worth)
- prep freelancers to man the decks while I’m away
- drive around to village halls, nurseries and doctors rooms handing out posters for my nearly new fund raising sale (which takes place the weekend after I get back)
- buy a range of things needed for my nearly new sale and distribute lables and posters to other sellers
- book an ad in the local paper for the sale
- sort, iron and label all the stuff I have to sell for the sale
- buy enough groceries to keep the family in food for a week while I’m gone
- buy all the bits and pieces I need for another week at sea (including many, many seasick tablets)
- finish typing up the telephone directory sized list of instructions for my sister in law who is looking after the boys while I’m away
- practice tying bowlines
- spend time with the boys including squeezing in a football lesson over the weekend
Why is it that whenever I go on these training courses I arrive absolutely shattered, rather than well rested and ready to face a week of gruelling physical activity?
What’s more, during training, you don’t get to eat a massive amount of fresh fruit or vegetables, which when combined with having to just about poo in public, doesn’t help one’s er… regularity. So this week I should really have been doubling my five-a-day quota. But I’ve had no time to buy food, so it’s been a case of ready-steady-cook in our house using random tinned and frozen ingredients to see what culinary delights I could create. I’ve been giving the boys any fresh veg we’ve had left but I feel that scurvy might already be setting in for me.
Must go make some breakfast and start ticking off some on these things before I run out of time entirely. I’ll report back again after training week is over. Here’s hoping my fingers (still not fully recovered from last time) survive, that I get my sea legs and don’t feel quite as sick and that I’ve mastered a bowline under pressure by the time I return. Wish me luck!
Tags: nearly new sale, sailing, scurvy, sea sick, Training
April 23rd, 2009
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